But Nathaniel wasn’t so optimistic. “It doesn’t solve our problem.”
“I know.” Violet frowned at the rock goblins, and the rot hidden beneath them. “Whatwasthat stuff?”
Their eyes met. “And what do we do if there’s more?”
Not My Anything
The rock goblin was waiting for him outside the greenhouse when Nathaniel awoke the next day.
“Get out of here,” Nathaniel told him, shooing with his hands. The gemstone in the little goblin’s chest caught the light as he cocked his head at Nathaniel, but he—Violet was calling him Peri—did not move. “Shouldn’t you be with the rest of your slide?”
He’d woken twice in the night to check on the blighted spot in the Green, and both times, he’d found the slide of rock goblins still at their post, no sign of the rot outside their tight wall. He’d gone back to bed both times with a frown as he clocked the troubled sounds of his neighbor, clearly in the throes of nightmares, on the other side of the wall. How did the woman manage to look so bright-eyed each morning if she was up half the night tossing and turning?
Nathaniel, on the other hand, had been bereft of any dreams of his own lately. He was less thankful for that fact than he’d wish.
He narrowed his eyes and warned the goblin, “If you turn any of my belongings to stone, I’ll…”
He didn’t know what. No one knew how to harm a rock goblin. They were simply pests to be lived with.
“Stay out here,” he told the goblin finally, feeling strangely defeated by the one-sided exchange. He opened the door to the greenhouse and slipped inside like Peri was a cat that would steal past his feet, but the goblin made only a croaking sound and stared at him, motionless.
Inside the greenhouse, he stepped up to the large glass box he’d erected on his desk and plucked a leaf from his mint plant, chewing it thoughtfully as he put on a pair of thick gloves.
He opened the two arm-sized holes in the side of the box and slipped his hands through to where a small cauldron simmered above a vibrant pink alchemical flame. Nathaniel wrinkled his nose as the smell reached him—no doubt he’d be hearing about it from Violet, but such was the nature of his science. He tied a handkerchief around his nose and mouth, then got to work.
Nathaniel had already tested the substance for organic properties and found it entirely changed. Although it had undoubtedly begun life as a patch of grass in the Green, it no longer had any chemical resemblance to plant matter. He knew of several alchemical processes that could do this—turning a flower to glass or gold was a staple of the industry, after all, and people paid good money for it, frivolous as it was—and a few others that worked in the opposite direction, but none of his experiments last night had made the spot of black goo so much as jiggle. He’d hoped the morning would bring some speck of inspiration, but he stood now, scratching his head, and wishing desperately for a pot of tea.
“Knock, knock,” said a familiar voice. Pru slipped into the greenhouse, a steaming ceramic mug in her hand.
“That was perfect timing,” he told her. “I was just about to go inside and put the kettle on.”
“Call it twin intuition,” she said with a wink.
Twintuition, he mused but did not say, though the sparkle of her smirk told him she guessed at his thoughts anyway. Pru set down the mug and jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the door. “You know that rock goblin is outside your workroom, yes?”
“I can’t get him to leave,” said Nathaniel, removing his gloves so he could touch the tea with clean hands. “But seeing as the rest of his slide is currently doing us a favor, I’m inclined to look the other way.”
Pru leaned against the edge of his desk, eyeing the glass box with curiosity. “That’s probably wise. Maybe they’ll get attached toyouand leave me alone.”
Nathaniel scoffed, his eyes still on his experiment. “I wouldn’t want to take that away from you.”
“How very kind,” she responded dryly. Pru followed his gaze. “Any luck reversing it?”
“Not even a little.” Nathaniel shook his head.
“Why don’t you ask Violet?”
“What on earth could she do? She’s not trained in alchemy.”
“Right, but she’s your—”
Something akin to panic jarred him. “She’s notmyanything.”
“We’lldefinitelyreturn to discuss that tone in your voice,” said Pru, her eyes bright with laughter. “What I was trying to say is she’syour best resourcewhen it comes to plant magic. Perhaps the solution is somewhere between your two areas of expertise.”
Heat crept up his neck. “Ah.”
“But since she’snot your anything, I suppose—”
