“We need everyone’s help,” Yarrow clarified.
“But my help, specifically. Me, your sister.” The edge in her voice was so sharp that it made Terlu wince. “You remember that, right? That I’m your sister?”
Terlu met Ambrel’s eyes. She could tell Rowan’s wife felt the same way she did: yes, they should talk; no, it shouldn’t be now. She was certain Yarrow was on the verge of bolting and only the fact that they were close to being able to save the greenhouse prevented him.
Ambrel laid a hand on her wife’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, but Rowan shifted her glare to her. “I have a lot of unsaid words that need to be said, and I’m going to say them.”
Sighing, Ambrel lowered her hand.
Wind whistled through the pine trees, knocking snow from the branches. It thumped down, startling a bird into the sky.We don’t have time for this. And he’s not ready.Terlu stepped forward. “Now isn’t—”
Yarrow spoke, “I missed you, Rowan.”
Rowan faltered before her rant even began. “Well.” She stopped and started again. “It’s unfair to jump right to that.” She poked his shoulder, her finger sinking deep into his coat. “You never showed it.”
“I know,” he said. “And I’m sorry.”
Again, she was speechless.
Terlu wondered if she should step away. This felt like an important moment, and it wasn’t one that she belonged in, but she’d promised Yarrow she’d speak for him—did he still want her to? Standing behind her wife, Ambrel looked almost amused, and Terlu wondered if she’d seen Rowan speechless often.Probably not.
Rowan gaped at him. “That’s it? You’re not going to make excuses?”
He didn’t. Not a word.
“Not going to twist it to blame me? Or Dad? Or Laiken?”
“I should have written you back,” he said.
She looked unbalanced, like she’d wanted to flap her arms, shout, and stomp, but now… “Huh. Yes, you should have. I was not much more than a child. It wasn’t my choice to leave, or if it was, I didn’t understand that I had a choice. Besides, I thought you’d come too, as soon as you could. I didn’t understand it was goodbye.”
Yarrow said, “I’m glad you came back.”
Rowan narrowed her eyes as she studied him. “You’re lying.”
“A little,” he said. “It was quieter before.”
“But you missed me?” Rowan said.
“Yes.”
“Well.” She stopped again and puffed out air. Her breath hung in a cloud before it dissipated. Over the sea, a gull cawed. “That’s something, I guess. Now, what’s this about spell ingredients? Since when are you a sorcerer? Wait, the old fool didn’t take you on as his apprentice, did he?”
Yarrow shook his head. “He rarely spoke to me. Or anyone.”
“And we aren’t going to cast a spell,” Terlu jumped in. “We’re going to break one.”
Rowan raised her eyebrows.
Gravely, Yarrow said, “We might be able to stop any more greenhouses from dying.”
His sister let out a whistle. “Okay, I’m listening.”
Terlu showed them the list of shells. “We need to find where Laiken put the ingredients for his final spell. He would have put them somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed, but there had to be enough of a quantity to affect all of the greenhouses. So, we’re looking for a significant number of shells.”
“Could he have buried them?” Ambrel asked.
Terlu had worried about that at first, but she didn’t think it was likely. “You bury ingredients if you want to limit the effects to a particular target.” If he’d buried them, the spell wouldn’t have beenable to affect so many greenhouses, especially ones that were far apart. “He’d have wanted them as effective as possible, which means keeping them open to the air. So I think they’ll be visible. Hidden, but visible.” After all her experiments, she could say that with some degree of confidence.
