Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“You should visit Kiela and Caz’s Jam Shop,” Bryn said. “Caz would love to meet your chlorophyll-filled friend. Also, the jam is excellent, and I’m not just saying that because Kiela’s my best friend.” She gave them directions before going through the back door to help with the ovens.
Finishing off the cinnamon roll, Marin licked her fingers. So far, two people had told them to go to this jam shop. She didn’t see any reason why not to.
Dax shrugged. “I like jam.”
Marin climbed the picturesque stairs on the side of a cliff.
At the top, the cliff was edged with beach roses, all past their peak.
Their branches were dusted with snow, but red rose hips still clung to them like little jewels.
She stood looking out at the sea while Dax and Ree climbed up after her.
She realized she was looking for a certain sea serpent and made herself turn away. He made his choice, and I’m happy for him. She was going to keep repeating that until she believed it.
The path led to a forest of firs and … birches? Other trees? Whatever. Marin wasn’t an expert on the names of trees, but it seemed like a very nice forest. She glimpsed an apple-red bird with a tail of white flower blossoms flying between the trees.
Eventually, they emerged in front of the most picturesque cottage that Marin had ever seen. It was absurdly cute, nestled beneath the pines. She could hear the ocean crashing, even though she couldn’t see it, and guessed that there was water access nearby.
There was also a chicken running out the front door, which was surprising.
It was chased by a small round cactus that rolled after it.
“Meep!” the cactus shouted.
All three of them stopped and stared as the chicken darted into the forest, and the cactus raced after it.
“Not from Belde,” Ree reported. “At least, I don’t know them.”
They proceeded toward the jam shop. Like the bakery, it had a window with a counter, but the window was closed. Marin knocked on the door. “Hello? Are you open?”
“One minute!” a voice called from inside.
She heard muffled voices, and then the same voice—a woman—said, “Larran, when you said you alphabetized … you didn’t treat ‘The’ as the first word, did you?”
A man’s voice said something back.
“It’s fine. Fine. You don’t have to redo it.” Then: “I mean, yes, someone has to redo it, but it doesn’t have to be you. You can check on Sian and the other mares.”
A third voice piped up, “I’ll get the door.”
A few seconds later, the door swung open, and Marin saw no one.
“Welcome to Kiela and Caz’s Jam Shop!” the third voice said. “How can I help you? Oh hey, hi, you’re a wax myrtle. Great to meet you! I’m Caz.”
Marin looked down to see a large spider plant, roughly the size of a dog, squatting in the doorway. He’d extended a tendril toward Ree as if to shake greenery.
“I’m Ree!” Ree said. He tapped the tendril with one of his leafier branches. “I’m a sailor and a wax myrtle. This is my captain and my conductor. Do you sing?”
“Nope,” Caz said. “I make jam. And magic.”
From inside the cottage, the woman’s voice called, “Remedies!”
Ignoring her, the spider plant said to Ree, “Apologies for the personal question, but do you know whether, if we’re divided, our babies will be sentient?”
“Um…” Ree said.
“Purely a theoretical inquiry at this point,” Caz said, “but my tendrils are becoming unruly, and I could re-pot them, but would that mean fatherhood? Because I’m not sure I’m ready for fatherhood.
Meep and I have been discussing it, but to bring children into a world in flux …
It’s just a lot to worry about, you know? ”
Before poor Ree could figure out what to reply, a woman with blue skin and dark blue hair came around the corner of a set of shelves holding jars of jam. “Hello, I’m Kiela. Are you here for jam or remedies?” She addressed this to Ree, rather than the two humans.
“The law changed,” Caz reminded Kiela. “You can call them what they are.”
“Old habits,” Kiela said, unrepentant. “Most of our remedies help with plants. Accelerate growth and such.”
“Ooh, Yarrow would love that,” Ree said.
He would. And so would Terlu. “We know people who care for a lot of plants,” Marin explained.
“My family,” Ree put in.
“A lot of sentient plants?” the spider plant asked.
“I’m from the Greenhouse of Belde,” Ree said proudly. “The sorcerer Laiken made many of us, before he died.”
“Oh, I’ve read about him,” Kiela said, interested.
“It was never confirmed that he’d created sentient plants, but it was whispered.
You said he died? Of course, he must have.
He’d be ancient by now, though I have read that some sorcerers do find ways to extend their lives…
” She looked down at Caz. “Do you think they’d like…
” She trailed off and raised her eyebrows.
“I think they absolutely would like,” Caz said.
“I was thinking of adding a few more entries,” Kiela said.
“There’s nothing that says we can’t do multiple editions,” Caz said. “If you keep fiddling with it, you’ll never release it, and I think a plant from Belde would know exactly what to do with it.”
Marin looked from the spider plant to the blue woman and back again. “What are we talking about?”
“Knowledge is meant to be shared,” Kiela said. “Books were never meant to be locked up. Hoarding them, keeping knowledge from people, is the same as hoarding magic. It’s wrong.”
“You sound like a revolutionary,” Dax commented.
Kiela shot him a look.
He held up his hands. “Which is great. They weren’t wrong. It’s true for music too—it’s not meant to be limited to concert halls only attended by the wealthy. It should be spread and shared.”
“Exactly,” Kiela said, mollified. “Larran, can you bring…”
A man poked his head around the corner, smiled at them, and handed Kiela a book. “Are there any other words that shouldn’t be included when I alphabetize?”
“Skip ‘A’ and ‘An’ also.”
“What about ‘Of’?”
“Just ‘A,’ ‘An,’ and ‘The.’ ‘Of’ is considered a significant enough word. You don’t have to—”
He smiled at her adoringly. “I want to.” He then disappeared back behind the jam shelves into the heart of the cottage. Wow, that man is smitten, Marin thought.
Kiela held the book out to Marin. “It’s designed for use by ordinary people, with an emphasis on remedies—spells, if we’re speaking plainly—that help with gardening.
This is an early sample. As soon as we can figure out how to efficiently create multiple copies, we’re planning to circulate them to as many islands as possible, to help counter the damage that’s been done over the years by the empire. ”
Marin studied it. This would be perfect for Terlu Perna. It would convince her like nothing else would that the law had truly changed, and she was safe from punishment. She dug into her pocket and pulled out several coins. “How much?”
“Also, a jar of raspberry jam,” Dax added.
“Good choice,” Caz said. To Ree, he said conspiratorially, “You probably won’t like it. It’s sticky. But humans seem to love it.”
“Humans are weird,” Ree agreed. “But I like mine.” Affectionately, he patted Marin’s ankle with a branch.
“Same,” Caz said.
The two plants chatted more as Marin completed her transaction with the jam-maker. They exchanged pleasantries, and Marin let her know about the chicken and the cactus. Kiela said it was nothing to worry about—they liked to play together.
With their purchases, Marin, Dax, and Ree headed back through the forest. Marin thought she heard the squawk of a chicken, but she wasn’t certain.
She also thought she saw a wisp of cloud between the trees, but she was certain that was just her imagination.
She’d heard of “cloud bears,” or forest spirits, but they were said to live near the flying islands, way to the west beyond where she’d ever sailed.
Marin held the spellbook in one hand and the railing with the other as she descended the cliff down to the beach.
Dax and Ree followed her, and she heard the light plop of branches as Ree hopped from step to step.
Offshore, she saw a herd of merhorses playing at the end of a stone jetty.
She tried not to think too hard about the fact that they were merhorses, not a certain special sea serpent.
The spellbook was a nice find. She just hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be a consolation gift for failing to find Rijes Velk.
It wasn’t worth the cost of the ruby. Still, she thought that Terlu would appreciate it.
Hopefully, she’d be able to deliver both news of the head librarian and the spellbook to Belde.
As soon as the sail is mended, we’ll be on our way.
Marin tried to focus on that. It should make her happy—they were nearly to Alyssium. This was their final stop. Once the sail was fixed, they’d be able to make the last leg in just a couple days, if the weather cooperated.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the tiny town, until it was time to check with the tailor on his progress with the sails. As they were heading for the shop, they heard shouting from the harbor. Marin glanced up as all the winged cats took off from their perches and flew toward the harbor.
“What’s going on?” Dax asked a villager who was hurrying past them.
“Most amazing thing,” the man said. “There’s a sea serpent in the harbor. And it’s tossing fish to the winged cats.”