Instead, I pointed to a small scratch on his arm. “I see the roses were in a bad mood this morning. Who knew gardening was such a dangerous vocation?”
He blinked at me and then a small smile grew as he glanced down, rubbing the scratch. “I suppose it has its risks. But the roses are my favorite. Daisies are cheerful, but they don’t need me. Roses flourish under patient care. A true gardener knows how to listen for their unique language, their way of asking for what they need.”
“The flowers…talk to you?” It really wasn’t any stranger than any other aspect of this world, but I still glanced around, wondering if the other plants were listening as we spoke.
“Not in words.” He flexed his calloused hands, as though anxious to be back at work. “But if you know them well enough,you can sense what a yellowing leaf or drooping stem means.” He cast me a questioning, almost shy look. “I’d enjoy showing you some of them later, if you have time. I think you’d like the damask roses; they have the sweetest fragrance.”
“Will they scratch me if I try to smell them?” I teased.
He smiled. “I’ll make sure they don’t. I’ll even pick a bouquet for you to take when you leave…if you promise not to tell anyone.”
I laughed. “I won’t breathe a word to the daisies, the tulips, or even the ivy on the wall.”
As we took a left into a corridor lined with a riot of dahlias, I thought back to the rose that had somehow returned with me a previous visit, wondering if he really could send flowers back with me.
“Why do you tend the garden when there is no one awake to enjoy them?” I asked.
He paused to consider, as though he had never wondered such a thing. “It’s…what I’m meant to do,” he finally responded, though his voice sounded uncertain.”The gardens need me, and I need to care for them.”
“Did your father also care for the gardens?”
The pause this time was even longer. “I’m not sure,” he murmured. “This has been my life as long as I can remember…though sometimes I feel like it’s a calling I gave myself rather than the one I was born to fulfill.”
“Does it ever feel—“ I hesitated, trying to think how to word my question. “—like something is missing?” I searched his face.
He met my gaze. “It feels…right for me to be here. While at the same time, it often feels as though I’ve lost something…some memories that could answer all of your questions.” He tipped his head. “Do you ever feel like you’re missing something?”
I stiffened, reticent to consider the question, even as I didn’t want to repay his openness by ending the conversation; I enjoyed talking with him.
I chose my words carefully. “I spent much of my life convinced I could gain anything I wanted for myself. Lately, though, things have shifted, perhaps due to some of my failures. My memories are blurred, but I have a sense of searching for something…or maybe someone.” Yet somehow, that feeling had been lessening the longer I spent in the dream.
He looked at me thoughtfully but didn’t press me to continue. We continued our walk, the resulting silence feeling like an extension of our conversation.
The twisting path soon looped, opening up to a familiar landscape shrouded in the mist that obscured the horizon. Spires and turrets rose above the fog, identical to the castle that imprisoned me during my waking hours, save for the sharp brambles that ensnared its stone edifice.
I slowed, gaping up at the looming structure. “The palace…the very place I fell asleep.”
My companion froze, then spun around. “You fell asleephere?No one ever awakens from the palace.”
My brow furrowed. “You mean there are others in this world? I thought you said you were alone.”
“I am, for the sleeping curse has claimed the others.”
My heart pounded. A sleeping curse…for some reason the phrase sent a throb of unease through me. “Could you please explain more about this curse?”
He spoke in a rush, as if he’d been desperate to find someone to confide the details with for quite some time. “It came out of nowhere and descended suddenly, engulfing the entire kingdom and causing everyone to fall into a deep slumber,” he explained. “They haven’t woken up since, kept alive all of these yearsthrough whatever magic caused them to fall asleep in the first place.”
Intriguing. It seemed the very sort of surreal situation I’d find in a dream…including one obvious contradiction. “The entire kingdom is asleep, yet you’re somehow still awake?”
I wasn’t sure why I was seeking logistical clarifications for a situation that wasn’t even real, but I felt an unusual connection to his story. Perhaps whatever sleeping curse afflicted me was what allowed me to enter this imagined world caught in an eternal sleep, allowing me to hope that perhaps a clue was hidden here somewhere, just waiting to be found.
He hesitated. “There are…reasons why I haven’t succumbed in the same way.” His voice hitched and he averted his eyes, making me suspect he hadn’t revealed the entire truth. “It has become very lonely.”
Sympathy twinged my heart before I could guard it. I well understood that isolating feeling. Though I wasn’t the only one awake in a slumbering kingdom, close relationships were one commodity a thief couldn’t steal. For all the thrill of my heists and the interesting secrets I gathered, nothing could fill that void.
The moment I noticed this subtle thread binding us, I wanted to sever it. Connections were dangerous, especially for a thief who never remained in the same place.
“In the meantime,” my companion continued, “I’m doing my best to tend the grounds while searching for a way to break the curse. So far I’ve been unsuccessful, but I keep trying. That’s all I can do.”
