it! She’s coming!’ I screamed. He was almost up to my perch. Castor tugged at his shoulder and produced Godmother’s bloodied knife, the one she’d stabbed into him in her moment of triumph.
‘Cut your hair. Quickly. It will keep growing down the tower if you will it so.’
It was a good thing the knife was sharp because my hair was thick and I had to hack at it. But I managed and as I did so the severed strands wavered like the tendrils of a vine and twined and suckered onto the marble. I tucked the knife into my sleeve and swung myself out and under the rim, grabbing hold of what had once been attached to my head. A booming noise reverberated down the tunnel.
‘Give me the knife.’ Castor was beside me now. ‘Keep watching your hands but go as fast as you can.’
I moved down the vines, praying that they would keep growing to the bottom. A shriek split the air. I looked up and saw Godmother’s white face, her black lipped mouth screaming in rage. Castor was hacking at the vines above us, ripping them down and destroying her chance to follow.
It was a long way down and we were shaking with exhaustion by the time we got to the bottom. I lay on my back and looked up at the tower. There was a dark spot where the shaft opened out but it was too far above us to see if Godmother still stood there, pale and furious. I had never seen the glasshouse from outside before but it shone like a green jewel and I felt a pang for the plants left behind.
I turned my gaze back to earth. We were surrounded by a wasteland of dry rubble and black dust. It smelt sour and thin and the chemical tang burnt my nostrils. I tried to keep my feelings from my face but I knew Castor could read them. He pulled the knife from his waistband.
‘Cut yourself.’
‘I never want to see a knife again,’ I said.
‘Trust me,’ Castor said. ‘Just a little cut, on your finger.’
I took the knife and felt the weight and sharpness of it. It was coated with congealing blood and sap. I could survive a little cut. It was nothing compared to what I’d witnessed in the lab. I nicked my fingertip and a drop of green blood welled up, swelled and fell to the ground. I raised my eyebrows at Castor. He smiled and looked down.
A tiny seedling poked out of the cracked earth and two little leaves unfolded from the stem. The plant stretched up towards the grey sky, unfurled further and began to grow.
‘No wonder she wanted you all to herself,’ Castor said. ‘There’s nothing like scarcity to make a thing precious.’
‘She was wrong’ I said. ‘An abundance of green things would make the whole world a lot more precious.’
We leant against the base of the tower and looked at the wasteland and the crumbling buildings decaying into the dead earth.
‘I’m sorry about your wings,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry you’ll never fly again.’
‘I will fly with our children,’ Castor said, ‘for I will give them wings. But you Anabella, will give our children and all the children of the world something far more valuable.’
‘What’s that?’
He kissed me softly. ‘A future,’ he said.
***
Why I wrote this story:
Once upon a time, farmers swapped seeds and collected them for the next season. This practice is dying out as agribusiness expands and small farmers are drawn to buying seeds from patented, privatised genetic material. Green Girl is a fantasy but it is based on experimenting with present-day truths.
You can find out more at my website https://www.penclements.com/
If you’d like something longer, then check out my YA fantasy novel, Oceanheart, via my author page:
OCEANHEART
‘An oceanic world where the stars are going out. Saltwater people and a shark that stalks in dreams. A girl with a nightmare, a mischievous guardian and a boy with a secret.
Meet Wynn. She thinks she’s a misfit and hates showing weakness. Only one person really touches her heart and that’s her little sister, Stella. But Stella is in a coma and it’s all Wynn’s fault.
As Wynn creates a journal of might-have-been memories for her sister, she finds herself pulled into a tropical island world. There she meets Soran, a boy who reads nature like a book and can survive anything on land and in the sea. What Wynn doesn’t know is that Soran’s secret could destroy her.
The island could destroy her too. It’s no paradise. Paradise doesn’t have poison masters called the Teeth. It doesn’t have Sorrowmaker patrolling the reefs. And in paradise, you don’t have to face your greatest fear to fix your biggest mistake.’
Winner of an Australian Society of Authors Mentorship Award.
Winner of Olvar Wood Writers Fellowship Award
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends