“On your feet,” she ordered, gripping his elbows and trying to haul him to his feet. She didn’t possess strength enough for the job, but she managed to lock her knees so that he could use her to pull himself up. Luna hastily gathered up the invisibility robe, then ducked against his side, his arm around her shoulder. They stood there for a full minute in the lamplight, simply trying to balance. Her limbs felt oddly numb and kind of disconnected from each other. The after-effects of that spell she’d been under, no doubt. But of the two of them, she seemed to be the stronger at the moment. What had happened to Mr. Grimm while she wasunconscious? And how did he get them out of the warehouse without his magic?
“All right,” Luna said at last. “We’ve got to move now. One foot at a time, Mr. Grimm. Right foot. Good. Now your left. Now right again.”
They got into a sort of shambling gate. If this were a three-legged race back home on fete days, they would come in absolute dead last and be the laughingstock of Greater Snoring. As it was, they made their way up the sidewalk, and soon the yellow sign of The Arcane Bouquet appeared through the gloom.
Luna wanted to ask after Tobias.
She wanted to ask . . . a lot of things.
“It was then that I saw him. On his knees. His face buried—”
Luna gritted her teeth and hastened on until they stood under the awning. All was dark through the windows; Mr. Grimm must have locked up everything before coming after her. And what about Mrs. Goddard? Had he sent her home, telling her to wait for news of her boy?
Luna leaned her burden against the front window. “Your key, Mr. Grimm?” she said.
“P—pocket,” he managed, his voice muffled behind the handkerchief.
She slipped her hand into his trouser pocket. It was an oddly intimate sort of act, but she tried not to think too closely about what she did. Locating the little key ring, she pulled it out, and slipped the correct key into the lock. The door swung open, emitting a welcoming cloud of perfume as hundreds of little flower faces turned to greet them.
Pulling her employer’s arm over her shoulder once more, Luna got him inside and shut the door behind them. She turned the lock then supported him down the center aisle. The double-delight flared out her blossoms in concern, and tiger liliesgrowled in the shadows. “I know!” Luna muttered. “I’m doing the best I can!”
Halfway down the aisle, Mr. Grimm’s knees started to buckle. Luna gripped him by the front of his shirt, struggling to keep him upright. “No, no, no!” she growled. “We’ve got to at least get you to the nook! I can’t deal with you sprawled out on the floor.”
Mr. Grimm rallied, and she managed to get him behind the counter. When at last he sank into the cane chair, Luna’s own strength faded, and she sank to her knees in front of him. Heaving out a ragged gasp, she let her forehead come to rest on his knee. There she remained for some moments, unable to do more than breathe. At some point, his hand came down to rest on the back of her head, a reassuring weight.
Sucking in a fortifying breath, Luna pulled herself upright again. His hand slipped away, falling limply over the arm of the chair. His eyes stared down at her, but they were blank. Not unconscious, simply blank. A frown knotting her brow, Luna reached out and pulled the handkerchief away from his face.
“Oh!” she gasped and clapped her other hand to her mouth.
An ugly red mark extended across the whole left side of his face, radiating from his jaw. It was beginning to darken into an ugly bruise. But there was more. A weird, purplish substance dribbled from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth, staining his skin and making him look like some nightmarish fiend.
“Mr. Grimm!” Luna sprang to her feet, her limbs suddenly galvanized with horror. “Mr. Grimm, what is this? What did he do to you?”
He moved his head vaguely, trying to shake it. “N-n-not Mortimer,” he managed, pushing the words through swollen, stained lips. “Severmist gas.”
Luna stared down at him, uncomprehending. Then she remembered: severmist.She’d heard of it before. It was an anti-sorcery agent, intended to burn all traces of Dire fromthe atmosphere. A scourge on regular sorcerers, but deemed generally ineffective against Dark Sorcerers, who had too much Dire in their systems for it to make much difference.
But to a sorcerer who didn’t currently have access to his own magic? It might prove deadly.
Chewing her lip, Luna stood some moments in shock, not even realizing that her brain was hard at work. Then suddenly, she heard herself speaking out loud, “Starfire Phlox. And Pink Coronations. Nasty stuff, and you’re not going to thank me, but . . .”
Not waiting to finish, she left him behind the counter and rushed to the storage room to fetch the key from the polka-dot pot. Moments later, she was pushing open the boiler room door and stepping into Garden. A night-swept breeze blew in her face, carrying with it an entire world’s worth of delicious aromas. For a few breaths, Luna stopped in her tracks. She’d never seen Garden at night before, its sky studded with stars, and all its night-blooming flowers on display beneath the moonlight. It was so peaceful. She hated to ruin it. But she also didn’t have any time.
“Garden!” she shouted, her voice breaking with desperation. “Garden, I need Starfire Phlox and Pink Coronations.Now!”A sob bubbled up in her throat, and suddenly overcome by the enormity of the situation, she dropped to her knees. “Please!” she begged.
A bluster of wind raced through trees and shrubberies, stirring up a wild bouquet of perfumes. Luna bowed her head, fighting back more sobs. She couldn’t give in to these feelings. Not now, not while Mr. Grimm was back there in the nook possibly . . . possibly dying. She couldn’t think about other things . . .anything . . . until she’d saved him.
Suddenly a bunch of star-shaped blossoms appeared directly in front of her knees, sprouting up from the soil in profusion.Their color was so vivid, she could see the scarlet hues even by moonlight. The next instant, a many-frilled Pink Coronation sprang up from its single stem, followed swiftly by two more.
“Thank you, Garden!” Luna gasped. She pulled up the blossoms, careful to take the roots as well, and scampered back inside.
First locking the boiler room door carefully behind her and swiftly dropping the key back in its pot, she rushed to the kitchen. For a mere second, she saw the unprimed teapot where it sat on the counter, just as they’d left it. Forgotten. When he’d pulled her into his arms and made her forget absolutelyeverythingfor the most glorious three minutes of her entire existence.
Luna bit down hard on her lip. Then, first removing her coat and casting it over the back of a kitchen chair, she sprang to the stove and ignited the burner under the kettle. Grabbing her cutting board, she set to work chopping and grinding the flowers and roots of her small harvest. The tea wouldn’t be as effective without the slow-drying process, but she would have to make do.
Once she’d got the tea steeping in the pot, she grabbed a cup and the last remaining head of Pink Coronation, and hurried back to the counter nook. Just as she emerged from the back passage, a bundle of feathers and croaking irritability flew down from the stairwell and landed on the counter.“Never mind?”Debbie demanded, peering at her master where he sat.
“I know!” Luna pushed up the hinged portion of the counter and stepped back into the nook. “I’m trying to help!”
