Chapter 24: The Greenhouse at Rooke Hall

It was dusk when we reached Rooke Hall, and snow was starting.

Alaric didn't take me to the house.

He walked me across the yard in the falling flakes, past the guard at the north door, who suddenly found the sky very interesting.

He opened the greenhouse door and stood back.

"Go on," he said.

I stepped inside.

The air was warm and wet and green.

Thyme, sage and the long bed of lemon balm filled the first rows.

Then I saw the potting bench, and I stopped.

Down its whole length stood clay pots, a dozen of them, in a neat row.

Every pot was full of basil.

The leaves were bright, tender and thick, as high as my hand.

I put my fingers on the nearest plant, and the smell rose up warm and sweet.

"His mother's seed," I said.

"I found the tin in her desk the night you called this bench a good bench," Alaric said. "She'd written the year on the lid."

"I didn't know if they would still grow. They were nine years old."

"I planted them while you slept. I told nobody. The housekeeper has watered them every morning since."

"You planted basil," I said. My voice shook. "You did that before the Mirror. Before any of it."

"I didn't know if I'd lose you."

"I thought if I did, there would at least be something growing."

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