I stood at the window, waiting for sunset. In the fading light, the garden looked wild and mysterious, nothing like the carefully curated scene it presented in the daytime. Finally, the last light vanished and the night garden blossomed. Slowly, first with the star lilies on the pond, little lights flickered to life. Moon violets glowed along the pathways, and the most recent addition, three fire trees at the far edge of the garden.
“They look good,” said the sorceress approvingly. “Like floating lanterns, but safer.”
I grinned. The reddish flowers on the trees were the only night flowers that glowed red instead of white, and they really did look like fire, even though the flowers were merely warm to the touch once they lighted up and couldn’t burn anything. We’d had to get special permission from the fire marshal to put them, for even though the trees weren’t a fire hazard, they could sometimes cause a panic among neighbors.
“I think it’s my favorite part of the garden,” I said.
The sorceress laughed and rolled her eyes, “Iris, every plant is your favorite.”
“True.” We looked back at the garden and I sighed in contentment. Working on the sorceress’s garden was the first time I’d ever used night plants, and it had been intimidating at first, but it had been so worth it. The lights twinkled and danced in the garden and I wanted to look at them all night. We finally had to turn away from the window, but as we did, something grabbed at my magic.
I paused and turned back frowning. Usually plants only tried to communicate with me when I was near them. The sorceress didn’t have any plants inside the house - she said she’d never remember to water them - and the garden plants might try to reach me if there was a fire or something, but otherwise, they didn’t really care what I did when I was inside.
“What is it?” asked the sorceress.
“I don’t know,” I said. Whatever it was, it kept pulling at me. The feeling was faint, but it was there. “Something’s wrong, I need to check it out.”
“By yourself, in the dark?” the sorceress exclaimed. “Can’t it wait until morning?”
“No,” I said heading for the door. “Don’t worry, go ahead and lock up. I’ll just go straight to my car when I’m done.”
With my hand on the door handle, I couldn’t see her roll her eyes, but I could practically feel it. She sighed, “I’d better come with you.”
So we went out into the garden. Even in the dark, I knew every single plant, even without the glow from the moon violets that lit the paths. The violets brushed gently against my magic, but didn’t react otherwise. They weren’t the problem. The feeling was stronger outside, but not by much. It was just really persistent, or I might not have noticed it at all. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and leaned into my magic, stretching it out, trying to locate the source of the pull. I could feel the bursting energy of the moon violets, the murmurs of the sleeping roses, the muted excitement of the golden apples, everything around us resting and not paying attention to two humans. Further out where the apples of youth, and the vegetable patch with carriage pumpkins and donkey cabbages and mattress peas. (We’d almost planted some giant beanstalks, but there’s a city ordinance against it.) None of these plants were calling out to me. I stretched out more, searching.
“It’s the fire trees,” I said at last and we started down the path.
The pull got stronger as we walked. Even before we were within sight of the trees, I broke into a run, the sorceress right behind me. When we reached the trees, we finally saw the problem. In the yellow light of the fiery flowers we saw a boy, maybe ten or so, curled up in the roots of the trees. One of his legs was twisted in a funny angle, and I winced. He’d probably jumped from the wall on a dare. The local kids thought sneaking into a witch’s garden was a rite of passage. We’d been doing our best to discourage it, but hadn’t been very successful. The moment he saw us, he tried to crawl back, but cried out in pain instead.
“Hold still, that leg’s broken,” the sorceress commanded and started digging through her pockets “Where’s that amulet?” She muttered.
“Can you fix it?” I asked in surprise. I had seen her do some impressive magic; most people would consider her the more powerful magician between the two of us. She could do just about any magic she chose to study. My magic only worked with plants.
“I’m no healer. I can ease the pain, but we’ll need to call an ambulance once we get back to the house. Stop moving, you’ll make it worse,” held the amulet out and began chanting. The boy had a wild look in his eyes and I thought he’d tried to bolt again. But he stayed still and suddenly relaxed.
“Thank you,” he said in a small voice.
“Hold onto to that for now,” said the sorceress handing him the amulet. “Now we just have to move him… If I had my flying ointment…”
“There’s witch feathers growing around the bend. I’ll get them.” It didn’t take me long to find the flight granting plants. Their leaves looked blue in the night, and were nearly identical to feathers. Their yellow flowers were closed for the night and they hardly stirred as I harvested a few.
The sorceress had coaxed the boy into talking by the time I returned, though he clammed up again when I appeared. It occurred to me that he probably thought I was as powerful as the sorceress and not just a landscape designer who could talk to plants. The sorceress took the with feathers and started chanting again. The boy yelped in surprise as he rose up into the air, but a moment later I think he was enjoying himself. As we walked back, the fire trees finally stopped tugging at me and the garden was calm.
