Page 3

The wall seemed to go on and on, as the snow thickened at her feet.

Her toes were beginning to feel numb, as well as her fingertips.

She wondered if she had frostbite. She’d never been this cold before.

She’d grown up on a sun-drenched island called Eano, where you were in far more danger of sunburn than frostbite.

She used to walk barefoot through the sand and feel it tickle her toes on her way to her cousins’ house, and she’d swim every sunset in the sun-warmed water before her parents called her in for dinner.

At the height of summer, you could cook mussels and clams by leaving them out on the rocks, and you had to drink fruit juice to stay hydrated or you’d risk the wrath of the cluster of grandfathers who’d hand out pitchers of guava and watery sweet-berry juice at every street corner.

Remembering, Terlu could almost taste the hint of sweet-berry.

It was the flavor of the summer solstice, when the whole island would be decked out in flowers and smell like chocolate and cinnamon and citrus as every baker and aspiring baker would compete to create the most delectable pastries for the Summer Feast…

At last she reached the corner of the greenhouse and turned—to see more glass.

I have to break it. If I stay outside any longer, I’ll be an ice statue instead of wood. She didn’t know if that would be ironic or just pathetic. She laughed, slightly hysterically.

Terlu scouted the ground for a rock or a sturdy branch.

Everything was coated in snow, but she spotted a medium-size branch that had fallen off one of the pine trees.

She picked it up, and sap stuck to her palms. Carrying it back to the wall of windows, she eyed the glass.

If she hit it in the center, it should be the weakest there.

“Sorry,” she said to her unknown host. “Very, very sorry. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

She swung the branch at the glass.

It hit solidly. She felt the impact shake through her arms, but the glass didn’t break. Dipping the branch down to rest for a second, she caught her breath. It felt like her muscles hadn’t been used in months, which was accurate. Hefting up the branch, Terlu tried again.

Not a dent. Not a scratch.

She whacked it again and again. After the fifth try, she stopped, panting.

Either she wasn’t strong enough or the glass wasn’t really glass.

Or it could be spelled to be unbreakable.

She knew the windows in the palace had such spells on them.

When the emperor visited the lower canals in the poorer parts of the city, he was said to travel in a carriage made entirely of glass enchanted to be unbreakable.

It was possible this greenhouse bore the same spell. In which case… This will never work.

She dropped the branch and sagged against the glass wall. Her only option was to find a door. For that, she had to keep moving. Maybe after a brief rest…

No. Keep moving.

She didn’t feel quite as cold anymore. Perhaps because so much of her felt numb. Forcing herself forward, she trudged along the glass. She leaned her hand against it for support… which was the only reason she noticed the door.

It was halfway down the wall of windows. Her fingers brushed against the latch before her eyes recognized it. She stopped and stared.

At last her brain caught up with her fingers and eyes.

A door!

An actual door!

“Please don’t be locked,” she pleaded with it as she twisted the handle.

It pushed open easily, and Terlu stumbled inside.

All she saw was green as she was hit with a whoosh of warmth.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

Suddenly warm, her fingers and toes began to tingle and then burn.

She sank down onto the warm gravel as the winter wind swirled behind her outside, and she blew on her fingers and rubbed them until the pain subsided.

As she nursed her fingertips, she gawked at the summery green before her.

“Wow,” she breathed.

The greenhouse smelled of fresh dirt and a thousand flowers, the perfume of the perfect summer night when the cicadas sing tenor to the bullfrog’s bass and the moon is heavy with the promise of a fall harvest. Except there was no moon out, and the only sound was the swoosh, swoosh of snow on the glass ceiling high above, so that made it a somewhat inaccurate analogy.

She thought it smelled wonderful regardless.

Terlu peeled herself off the floor. Bits of gravel clung to her wet hem and stuck to her wet skin.

She brushed them off and then examined her hands again.

Her lavender flesh had pinkened from the cold, but there were no splotches of white.

The pain had nearly completely subsided.

She wiggled her toes experimentally, and they felt much better. I didn’t freeze. Yay!

“Hello? Is anyone here?” she called.

Her voice was swallowed by the greenery.

She walked forward on a gravel path between the plants.

She’d never seen such an overabundance of vegetation before: Vines climbed the pillars up to the roof of the greenhouse, thick bushes with enormous elephant-ear-size leaves lined the path, and trees with spindly trunks and a crown of fernlike leaves stretched high above them.

In between, she caught glimpses of flowers: shiny red cups with brilliant yellow stamens, clusters of tiny white petals, and yellow-and-orange striped lilies.

It was all crowded so tightly together that Terlu quickly lost sight of the walls of windows.

The only view of the outside world was directly above her, through the windows of the cupola, where it looked merely white, either from the snow or the sky—she couldn’t tell which.

The only sound was the crunch of her shoes on the gravel and the squish of the melted snow between her toes. She was still shivering where her wet tunic touched her skin, but it was vastly warmer inside. She expected her clothes would dry quick enough.

As she drew closer to the heart of the greenhouse, it became even hotter, and she soon saw why: a white porcelain stove in the shape of a spiral shell.

It radiated heat, causing the air to waver near it.

A bench with blue tile encircled it, and she dusted off a few stray leaves that had fallen on it and sat.

Sighing in joy, Terlu cozied up to the stove.

She couldn’t see any hatch for inserting wood, and she didn’t smell smoke. A magical stove. Unusual, but not impossible. Well, clearly not impossible, since here it was.

Oh, wow, she could curl up and sleep here.

Granted, the bench could use a few pillows, and it needed to be cleaned.

She doubted anyone had sat here in ages, given the thickness of the dust and the number of stray leaves on and around it.

As she looked at the plants that filled the vast room, she wondered if anyone had been in this greenhouse in years.

She began to feel a bit uneasy.

She couldn’t be alone in this vast place, could she?

Terlu was no expert, but even she could see that the plants had been allowed to grow wild. They wound around each other in tight braids and tangles, filling every bit of available space. What if there’s no one here? What if I’m alone?

She felt panic bubble in her throat. Her heart began to race, and she gulped in air. After so much time unable to speak, unable to have a simple conversation, unable to touch anyone or be touched… I can’t be alone here. Maybe this greenhouse was abandoned, but someone nearby had cast—

“Rrr-eow?”

A winged cat walked around the stove on the blue-tile bench. He had gray fur, amber eyes, and brilliant emerald wings that lay crossed on his back. When he reached Terlu, he paused and looked at her.

“Hello!” Terlu said. “Aren’t you a beauty.”

Almost certainly agreeing with her, the winged cat proceeded toward her and climbed onto her lap. He kneaded her thighs through her tunic with his claws, turned around once, and then settled onto her. His emerald-green feathers ruffled as he shrugged his shoulders into a more comfortable position.

“Um, okay, welcome,” Terlu said, enchanted by such unexpected feline friendliness.

Gently, she stroked between his ears. The fluttery fear in her throat receded as she petted the winged cat.

Slowly, her heart calmed, and she could breathe without feeling like she was about to shatter.

His fur was as soft as velvet. She smiled as he tilted his head so she’d pet his cheeks and neck.

“So happy to meet you. I was beginning to think I was all alone here.”

He purred.