Descendant (Secrets of the Makai) (33 page)

Dorian entered the first greenhouse and stopped at the entryway, clearly taken in by the magnitude. Tristan waved his hand through the molecules drifting around him, amazed by the visual difference between the inside and outside air. The thought of how much he had to learn, seeing things like they really were, overwhelmed him.

"It's fabulous!" Dorian gushed, seeming to forget her captive status. "I've never even seen some of these varieties." She let the cloak fall behind her and left the brick walkway to be in the dirt, touching each of the plants as she explored.

Tynan's white skin paled even more, if possible. He stooped to retrieve the cloak and cleared his throat. When that failed to get her attention, he said, "Miss Dorian, it isn't proper—" He stopped short of saying anything that might offend her. "If you would stay on the path!"

Tristan returned to the outdoors to get a better feel for the land, confident Dorian could handle Tynan if she had to.

The building they'd come from stood like a simple castle, as if it was the last of its kind to defend the land, proud and operational. Tristan reminded himself they weren't tourists and kept his mind strategic. Especially if he could relay the information to someone later.

The castle was built with rectangular, tan-colored slabs of boulders. Window openings matched the arched design of the front entrance, but had been sealed up with additional rock. At the top of a single tower, he could see three guards paying special attention to the greenhouses.

A gentle sea of green grass lay between the castle and forest line. He wondered if someone had to mow to keep it so short and tidy. What did Dorian think of lawn mowers? Upon closer inspection, it wasn't grass at all, but some sort of tiny-leafed groundcover.

At the edge of the cliff, high above the crashing waves, he scanned the rocks for a way down. An extremely narrow ledge led halfway, but certainly no farther. He went back to the greenhouse to check on Dorian.

She was kneeling on the ground, pressing dirt around a fresh transplant, when a round little stubby man slammed through a back door. "What are you messing with? How dare you disrupt my plants! No one gave you permission." He shook a dirt-covered fist at Dorian, then Tynan. "No one is allowed in here, not to mention
touch
anything. If you needed something—"

"Dr. Morley," Tynan bowed his head, looking shamed, still clutching Dorian's cloak. "This is the legendary Dorian we have been discussing of late."

"I don't care who she is. This is
my
space,
my
plants! No one is allowed!"

Tristan dreaded how much larger her ego would get by being addressed as legendary.

"Everything is clearly very happy to be here with you." Dorian sounded completely sweet and innocent, totally unlike the Dorian he knew. Tristan gave her some credit. So did Tynan. Dang she was good. "I wondered if you could show me how such a magnificent environment operates?"

Dr. Morley stepped into the dirt to inspect her work. A flicker of admiration twitched in his red cheeks. Tristan cocked an eyebrow. How hard could it be to stick a plant in the ground? It probably took her two seconds. Dr. Morley held out his hand, dirt and all, and led her through the paths, talking excitedly about temperatures and moisture controls.

By the middle of the second building, bored out of his mind, Tristan decided he'd never find an escape route in a greenhouse.

37

-
D
R.
M
ORLEY'S
M
ENAGERIE
-

DORIAN GLANCED OVER HER SHOULDER, searching for signs of Tristan. Could he really leave his body? The plants didn't seem to sense him, though she thought she might have felt the warmth of him near her face before they left the building.

She followed Dr. Morley into the third greenhouse, closest to the ocean, and wondered how Tristan could speak to her mentally, when Gram and Oliver couldn't. The thought was both threatening and thrilling. Was she becoming as stupidly infatuated as the plants were?

"Feast your eyes upon the best of the best." Dr. Morley clapped his pudgy hands and shut the door behind her. "Life isn't always about traditional botany, there's science and chemistry." He glowed with excitement and patted the pocket of his shirt.

"You did this?" Dorian reached into one of the cubicles, sympathizing with a seedling's despair. It didn't know whether to grow up or down. Rows of tables lined the entire greenhouse, plants in pots instead of community soil, segregated further by concrete dividers.

"I wouldn't touch anything without safety gear." Dr. Morley smiled proud. "Everything you see is specially bred. 'Engineered' you might say." He whipped out the tool he'd been patting, then shoved it back into his pocket before she could get a good glimpse. Maybe a marble poker, white with a wooden handle. Black tape seemed to hold the pieces together. "The most unlikeliest combinations you can think of."

He handed her a pair of gloves and goggles, then a stiff floor-length leather lab coat from a second cabinet. She accepted for the sake of politeness, but couldn't get herself to put any of it on. "Suit yourself," he said.

She waited while he put on the ridiculous amount of protective gear, leaving the goggles with a full-face mask strapped high on his forehead.

"What happened to the forest outside?"

"Ah, well...not quite as successful as what I'm doing now. You are astute, aren't you?"

Dorian glared, unwilling to drop the subject without a real answer.

"Yes. But, when have you last seen trees on the cliffs of I-" He stopped short. "Reforestation! There used to be trees…. I thought maybe—"

"You transplanted adult trees?"

"Native trees. But they…well." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You should have known they would never survive."

"Adult trees would've had a better chance at breaking ground, making way for new trees. Now, they make shade, block the sea spray, and take the brunt of the wind. In another fifty years, living trees will outnumber the transplants."

Dorian studied the dead forest through the glass and wondered if the trees knew what would happen, or if they died willingly in the cause. The view made her sick, like a collection of dead bodies made to look pretty. "Why are they still green?"

"The green is a permanent feature." Dr. Morley continued when she said nothing. "Well? How would you like staring at a dead forest all day? I haven't given up on reforestation and the seedlings still need protection from the elements."

"You think the seedlings can't tell the difference?" Dorian asked, her eyes welling up with tears.

"It's for the greater good."

The plants had been silent while Dr. Morley told his tale, or she'd tuned them out. Now, their miserable songs made her heart ache.

"As you've been told," said Dr. Morley, "the plants are not behaving like they should. Nevertheless, I think you'll be all right if you keep a good distance."

"Distance?" Dorian asked, doing her best to play along.

"It's rather simple in the end. What you see here has been crossed with all sorts of different species to create an entirely new list of very unique potion-making ingredients. Aren't you getting tired of working with the same ol' list?" Dr. Morley walked quickly to the end of the greenhouse. "Maybe not, you're still young."

Dorian could not find her voice. She walked along the line of cubicles, pausing at each one, recognizing some of the combinations while others remained a mystery. She knelt beside a small seedling, overcome by grief.

"This is my most spectacular pride and joy." Dr. Morley rushed back, coaxing her to hurry along. "Come and see!"

The corner of the greenhouse stood empty, but for a single plant about three feet tall. Roots lay limp on the ground, spilling over a clay pot. Its thick branches drooped, dangerously close to snapping. Dorian inhaled sharply as the plant swayed to face them.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Dr. Morley rocked on his heels like any proud parent.

Dorian gulped. The tips of remaining leaves had shriveled to brown crisps. Three decayed flower stocks looked like they might have been beautiful at some point in the past. Old blooms withered in forgotten shades of red, streaked with purple and green. She guessed he might have crossed in some snapdragon genes and took a step forward, intent on soothing the poor thing.

Dr. Morley's arm shot out to stop her.

"This is definitely one you shouldn't get close to. It's a combination of four carnivorous species, along with certain genetic codes of reptilian hunters. A vine-like tongue can strike with lightning speed, capturing its own food. You need to watch out for its feelers too. Let's see if it'll eat today."

Dorian put her hand to her thumping chest. Where was Tristan? Dr. Morley pulled a handful of pellets from his pocket and tossed them to the mulch in front of the plant. From a metal cage, half-hidden in the shadows, he lifted a white bunny by the tuft of fur at the back of its neck.

"They aren't just for fertilizer, you know." Completely jovial, he tossed the rabbit toward the pile of pellets. It hopped a few times, twitching its pink nose, then hobbled toward the food.

"See?" Dr. Morley sighed, crossing his arms. "Ordinarily, it would have taken two seconds to capture and gobble the rabbit whole. It hasn't eaten for months now."

"It's an animal?"

"Yes! I'm calling them planimals!" Dr. Morley beamed, apparently pleased she'd caught on so quickly. "Digestive juices have already been extracted and used for a great deal of things. Though, I'm still working on a reversal. I think there's wondrous benefits for the world." Dr. Morley tossed a few more pellets toward the plant to keep the rabbit in range. "It feeds not only on flesh and blood, but the bones too. The acid produced is completely organic. In a pure form, it dissolves clothing, plastics, and most metals. Our Earth's garbage and pollution problems could be solved immediately, leaving no trace of toxic waste in the air, water, or land."

Something spooked the rabbit and it scampered under the long table of cubicles. Dr. Morley allowed it to flee, continuing in his excitement. "The acid works for a solid twenty minutes before the active enzymes begin dying off. Containing the acid is difficult, but one tablespoon can obliterate an entire cubic yard of your average household trash. This discovery will save billions of dollars. If I can duplicate the process." He gazed at the withering specimen, losing his gusto. "I don't think this one will produce any offspring before it dies."

The plant shuddered, shedding a few leaves in the process.

"I'm not sure what's making it sick…." Dr. Morley took a step back from the plant as it continued quivering, pulling Dorian back with him. "I'd estimated a thirty-year life span, but right now, it's less than two. Maybe it's hungry after all?"

The cheerful hope in his voice made Dorian's stomach crawl. The plant was nowhere near hungry. Her eyes widened at the hint of warning. The plant leaned back, then catapulted forward, sending a thin stream of yellowish liquid from one of its wilted flowers. The substance landed on Dr. Morley's left shoulder and the protective leather sputtered with instant blisters.

They ran for the door with Dr. Morley flinging his gloves away, working at the zipper to get his coat off before the acid could eat through.

Tynan held the door open, then slammed it shut. A series of locks clicked into place.

"Hard to believe the thing's still evolving," Dr. Morley announced to Tynan's look of alarm. "No matter!" He tossed the facemask to the ground and watched the glass melt. "I think that's enough tour for one day." He wiped sweat from his brow. "It's been a pleasure to finally meet you, Dorian. Keep this door locked," he directed at Tynan. "And maybe post additional guards 'til the beast calms down, we can't have it escaping like the last time. I still think someone ought to try chaining the pot again."

38

-
D
EATH
D
EVOURS -

"I SHALL RETURN FOR YOU this evening," Tynan cooed, bowing his head slightly. Tristan snarled at the man, betting he could wrap one hand around his boney neck.

"I look forward to it," Dorian replied genuinely. At least it seemed that way.

The metal door shut gently, followed by the clicking lock.

"Well?" Tristan crawled out from under the bed, fighting the cumbersome cloak. "Sounds like you enjoyed yourself."

"Nice to see you, too." She opened the armoire and examined each dress.

"You're going to dinner with him?" Why did she have to look so happy? "Have you forgotten what's going on here?"

"I wonder why Dr. Morley works with Sabbatini? He has a good side. Can you reach that for me?" She pointed to the top shelf in the armoire, where a clear container held an assortment of smaller boxes.

"Get it yourself! I can't believe you." Tristan went to the window in search of anyone he might recognize from the island.

"If you care, there's a robe in the bathroom."

"Now you tell me?"

"It's not like I knew. I asked for a robe and a towel if they expect me to dress up for the occasion, and they said both were available in the bathroom. Look through the drawers or something. And," she announced, dragging the red velvet chair to the armoire, "we're in Ireland."