by Ksenia Anske
There was a crack, and a howl, and a hideous hiss.
Rose Bloom’s head detached itself from the mass, expanding and turning into a thing that looked ancient and faceless. It hung over Alfred and boomed at him in a thousand voices, “You broke the rules.”
Lilith stiffened from terror.
“What rules?” croaked Alfred. “Who said there were rules? You wanted an heir, you got an heir.”
“Do not defy me,” thundered the thing, its voice rousing swirls of torn leaves.
“What did I do? What did I do wrong? I spent my life serving you. And you pay me back by taking my family? By taking my love, my Eugenia? You said you’d spare her.” Alfred cowered, shielding his face.
“Grandfather?” Lilith took a tentative step.
“You take care of me,” boomed the thing, sinking lower. “You give me blood. You die when you can’t give me blood. You kept me hungry for too long. You’re too old. Your time is over. You die tonight, not the girl. She is young and strong. She will take care of me now.” It grew bigger, folding down on Alfred in a slithering, hissing mass.
“Please, let me live. Please. I don’t want to die,” he said, convulsing in silent crying.
“Opa...” Lilith heard herself let out a shuddering exhale, without realizing she was holding her breath this entire time. “No, let him live, please,” she said to the thing.
It barely regarded her, focusing on its caretaker. “Do your duty.” Its voice rolled over the clearing, ruffling it.
Alfred shook like a leaf in the wind. “My dear girl,” he said meekly, his posture broken, his eyes dull. “I hope one day you will forgive your grandfather. Give my regards...to your dad.”
“Of course I’ll forgive you. I’ve already forgiven you,” said Lilith hastily. “But Opa—”
“Farewell,” he said and faced the deity. “I, Alfred Bloom, rightful heir to the Bloom property, acknowledge the end of my service to you and give myself up, as is my duty. I declare my granddaughter, Lilith Bloom, as the new heir. May she serve you well.”
“At last,” said the thing.
“Liebe Eugenia. Ich komme.” Alfred closed his eyes.
“Wait! Opa, no!” Lilith bolted, only to be thrown off her feet by a slithering mass of stems that seemed to have sprouted from everywhere, obscuring her grandfather from view, weaving him into a cocoon, and burrowing him with a soft whoosh underground in a matter of seconds.
The smell of freshly dug earth enveloped Lilith. For a moment she stood, stunned, then she lost control, ran up to the tangle of brambles that quickly disappeared into the ground, and tugged at them, tearing and kicking blindly.
“Why did you do it, you monster, why?” she screamed. “Stop it! I want you to stop it! You can’t kill people anymore, you hear me! Stop! I COMMAND YOU! I COMMAND YOU TO STOP THIS NOW!” Her voice cracked, but she continued yelling her plea until her strength deserted her and she collapsed onto the ground, sobbing.
Chapter 34
The Dazzling End
Rosehead, her rosebushes, and the mansion heads all merged into one coiling and uncoiling mass of canes, shanks, and stems, interrupted here and there by a flash of red. The rotunda vanished, and Lilith found herself in the middle of a flower sea that throbbed and thrummed, speaking at once and from everywhere.
“I was waiting for this,” it said. “Waiting for you to say it.” Its voice rustled, echoing under the night sky. Its leaves brushed her face, played with her hair. The whole garden became fluid, as restless as an ocean before a storm. It shifted and changed, as if it didn’t have roots but danced across the earth any way it liked.
Lilith sprung to her feet.
“Who are you?” she asked, bewildered.
“I’m the rose garden. Isn’t it obvious?” said the garden, lapping gently. It smelled overwhelmingly sweet, like too much of a good thing. Lilith wanted to bury her face in its fragrance forever.
“I don’t understand,” she said cautiously. “Please excuse me, but...you were waiting for what, exactly?”
“Waiting for an heir to stop me.”
“To stop you?”
“That’s right.” The garden swished.
Lilith glanced about. “Where is Rosehead? Where are the bushes and the phantoms? Are they part of you now?”
“Everything is part of me. Always,” said the garden.
“Thank you. That’s very self-explanatory,” scoffed Lilith, despite her wretched state. “What did you do to my grandfather?”
“What I do to every Bloom heir, when they prove useless to me.” The garden smacked its gigantic lips.
“You ate him?”
“Wish I didn’t. Not very tasty, the old fellow. Sinewy and bony. I prefer soft juicy caretakers, haven’t tasted one in a while.” It lapped around Lilith, ruffling her hair.
Lilith swallowed, her heart hammering. “Dear rose garden. Did I hear you correctly—you said I stopped you? Does that mean you will stop eating people from now on?”
“Here, I will,” said the garden slyly.
“But you might continue elsewhere?”
“I might.”
Lilith shifted uneasily. It was very disconcerting to stand up to your neck in a moving, living, talking mass of twigs that changed shape and behaved as if it could gobble you up if it so desired. “May I clarify something? I asked Rosehead to stop,” said Lilith, “but it didn’t work. Why not?”
“Only the heir can command me. You weren’t the heir then. You are now.” It rustled around her.
“But grandfather said—”
“You become the new heir when the old heir dies.” There was an irritated edge to its voice.
“I see,” said Lilith.
“I’m tired of being trapped here,” said the garden, licking the fence. “I want to roam the fields. I want to run through the woods. And when I’m done running, I want to find a new resting place.” Rising and falling, the thing congregated around Lilith, as if looking directly at her. “I tried to make them say it. I turned greedy. I demanded more blood. They simply obliged. Cowards. Not one of them told me to stop. Until you.” Its landscape stretched into a strange semblance of a smile. “You asked me to stop. For that, I thank you. I have fulfilled my last obligation to the last Bloom heir. Seven hundred years is a very long time. I’m bored of this place. Let me go. Set me free,” it said, as petals brushed Lilith’s face, “and I might spare you.”
Lilith bit her lip, feeling the rise of panic. “But you said you’re not going to—”
“A deal is a deal,” said the garden sweetly. “Once spoken, it can’t be broken.”
Lilith went rigid. She cleared her throat, stretching out the conversation as long as she could, to try and wiggle her way out. “Excuse me, dear garden, please correct me if I’m wrong, but are you implying that after you’re done here, you will simply run away?” She shuddered, imagining a carnivorous garden on the move, crawling across fields, towns, and cities, consuming everything living in its wake.
“In a way. In a way I will.” The garden paused, as if it gazed beyond the darkness of the forest.
Something wet nudged Lilith’s leg. She nearly shrieked, catching herself at the last moment.
“You don’t need to pretend,” said the garden. “I know your talking dog is visiting you. I’m only allowing it to live out of fascination. It makes my dwelling here less boring. For that, I thank you as well. Haven’t had much entertainment of late, not with that old fellow.” It scowled at Panther. “I despise dogs. They poison my flowers with their excretions.”
Panther curled his upper lip in an unpleasant way.
Lilith sighed. “I’m very sorry about that, but he’s a dog. It’s what dogs do.” She squatted under the mass of leaves. “Panther! Oh, Panther, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!” She kissed him and sniffed his fur, filling up on puppy smell.
“Neither did I,” he growled.
“Where’s mom and dad? Where’s Ed? Are they okay?”
&n
bsp; “One question at a time, please. You’re making my doggy head spin. Yes, they are okay, and no, unfortunately—”
Lilith gasped. “What happened?”
“Please, kindly let me finish my sentence. Unfortunately, humans are not as swift as whippets. Therefore, your parents and your friend are about ten minutes behind me.”
“Where?”
“Behind me.”
“Oh. Good. I was worried. How’s everyone else? Anyone injured?”
“Everyone is just fine. Thanks to you, I must say. No casualties except for that poor elephant. The circus people departed already.”
Lilith let out a shuddering exhale.
“I see you’re engaged in a rather curious conversation with a rather curious piece of talking shrubbery,” growled Panther.
“I’m letting this comment pass only out of gratitude to your owner,” said the garden coldly.
Panther ignored it. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”
“You? Interrupting? Never,” said Lilith. “Panther. Listen to this. You’ll never guess what happened. The mansion heads, the bushes, and Rosehead—”
“All merged into an oversized backyard that thinks it has the intelligence of a thousand peacocks. Ed and I have been observing from the tree house.”
The garden rustled angrily.
“You have?”
“The only bit we missed—one minute your lovely elderly relative of a creep was there, another he vanished?”
“He was swallowed underground. Where Rose Bloom is buried,” said Lilith.
“As is every heir’s destiny,” said the garden. “Ludwig was the first. Nice fellow. He fed me his wife. Not very tasty, I must say; already dead but fresh enough. Her blood woke me up. I let him live a bit longer out of gratitude.”
“Oh, how thoroughly revolting,” whispered Lilith.
Panther growled conspiratorially. “Astounding. Your friend Ed was correct after all. I think it’s only appropriate we finish our job here, dear Holmes. That’s precisely why I brought you something. Something you dropped? Also, I suggest you don’t mention its name, nor the word of the thing it produces, you know? The orange thing? For obvious safety reasons.” Panther energetically rolled his eyes as if pointing.
Lilith gazed at him, puzzled.
Panther sulked into the greenery and came back with a torch and a lighter clumped in his teeth. He placed them at Lilith’s feet, tail wagging.
“Excellent, my dear Watson,” whispered Lilith, her eyes ablaze with mischief. “Simply excellent.” She weighed the torch in her hand.
“What is this?” asked the garden suspiciously.
Lilith thought it probably never saw a torch before, not until last night, unless some of her ancestors had tried to set it on fire. She hoped it wouldn’t make a connection between a rod wrapped in white sponge and the black burning poles from the circus performance. “It’s a...it’s a...” She racked her brain.
“A stick for chasing squirrels,” supplied Panther.
“Yeah. Squirrels. It’s Panther’s toy,” echoed Lilith.
“There are no—” began the garden.
“Shhhh!” whispered Lilith. “Don’t say it. You see, Panther doesn’t know. It would make him very upset if—”
“I don’t care about your dog!” bristled the garden. Its voice grew into a booming chorus. “You let me go,” it roared. “You send me away, and you stay alive.” It rushed at Lilith. She raised her arms high, desperately trying to ignite the sponge. Panther yapped at the wriggling mass, to no effect. It circled both of them, tightening. Flowers covered Lilith’s face. Petals pried her mouth open, sliding in. Stems circled her neck. Choking, she tried to flick the lighter one more time. The torch sputtered, sizzled, and caught fire.
A hideous cry shook the air. The garden jerked, dousing Lilith in a cloud of sweetness and lessening its hold. She coughed, regaining her breath, and triumphantly poked it with the torch.
“Hot! Hot!” hollered the garden. “Take it away from me! Put it out! Put it out!” Its voice multiplied, screeching. It heaved and slammed down on Lilith, knocking her off her feet and sending Panther flying.
Lilith fell, stubbornly slashing the torch left and right. “Burn!” she screamed, spitting out petals. “Burn, you evil thing! I want you to burn!”
And just like that, as if awaiting her command, the garden caught on fire.
“Panther,” croaked Lilith. “Panther?” Soot covered her, smoke filling her nostrils. Engulfed in flames, the garden retreated with a deafening noise, shrieking and squealing. Lilith pulled herself upright. Her eyes watered. She blinked, trying to make out her surroundings.
Behind a veil of smoke, the gloomy shape of the mansion stood out like a white ghost. Lilith stumbled in its direction. “Panther!” she called. “Where are you?”
“Right under your feet. I’d appreciate it if you stepped off my tail, thank you,” came from below.
“You’re alive!” Lilith bent to pet the whippet.
“No, I’m dead. But I’ll live,” he purred.
The scent of scorched flesh unspooled around them. “What’s that smell?” Lilith coughed.
“I’d be more preoccupied with getting out of here, if I were you,” yapped Panther. “This way, if you please.”
“This is not how burning rosebushes are supposed to smell,” said Lilith, dashing after her pet between two walls of blazing inferno. Sweltering heat engulfed her.
The garden fought. It stretched its tentacles at the girl. She beat them with the torch until they crumbled to ash. Her hair flapped around her, threatening to catch fire. She barely noticed, encouraged by Panther’s barks and her own wild beating heart. She was alive. She was more than alive; she felt reborn, as if a part of her childhood left her, letting her grow into someone else, into a new Lilith. She let out a cheer of triumph.
They ran and ran, dodging flames, aiming for the mansion. Panther made it first, barking loudly. Lilith, a hand over her eyes, burst after him into the cool air, and bumped into someone. A pair of hands lifted her off the ground. Daniel hugged his daughter, carrying her to the safety of the back porch. “Pup. You’re okay. You’re alive. You’re alive,” he kept muttering into her hair.
“Daughter delivered, sir. Safe and sound.” Panther wagged his tail, a doggy grin on his muzzle.
“Dad!” Lilith cried. Then her mind processed what she just heard. “Panther?” She looked from one to the other. “You talked?”
“It just so happened that your parents heard me shouting at Rosehead, and, well, you can imagine what happened after. So I thought, since I promised anyway...” He pawed at the ground.
“You’re the noblest, most honorable, most virtuous pet I’ve ever had. I love you,” said Lilith.
“What, only three sophisticated words? I thought I deserved more. And you still owe me steak,” Panther grumbled.
“What did I tell you?” said Lilith to her dad.
He gently pried the torch out of her clenched hand. “You were right. I’m sorry, pup, so sorry I didn’t believe you.”
“It’s okay. It’s fine. Where’s mom? Where’s Ed?”
“Your mom and Ed are inside. I told them to wait for me,” said Daniel. Then, as if suddenly remembering his presence, he leaned toward Panther. “Thank you, buddy. Sorry, it still feels a bit strange to me talking to you.”
“No offense taken. It’s all perfectly fine,” professed Panther, beaming. “I understand.”
“Where is everyone else?” asked Lilith.
“In the dinner hall. Still shaken by what happened.”
They gazed at the garden. It stopped making noises. Fire consumed it, spreading from the middle outward. An orange glow illuminated the sky, both from the flames and from the first sunrays spilling over the treetops.
Daniel looked at his daughter. “Where is your grandfather?”
She held her breath. Their eyes met. She simply couldn’t bring herself to say what happened. A dark shadow passed over Dan
iel’s face. “He’s gone, isn’t he?” He gently let her out of his hold. “Get inside. I’ll be right there.” The torch held high, he lurched down the steps to the edge of the silent green mass and slashed at it.
“Burn.” he said, his voice thick with grief. “I want you gone. I want all of this gone.” He switched to German, muttering and poking without a real aim.
“Dad,” called Lilith. “You don’t need to do this. It’ll burn on its own. Let’s get out of here.”
“I concur with what your daughter suggests, if my doggy opinion matters, of course,” added Panther.
Daniel didn’t hear them, concentrated on his rage, stabbing and slashing. Fire leapt up around him. Lilith had never seen her father in this state.
“Dad!” she called, alarmed. “You need to get out of there! Panther, help me!”
They scurried down. Lilith covered her face, coughing from the smoke. She snatched her father’s arm and pulled. Panther yapped. Daniel stubbornly thrust the torch a few more times, and then threw it deeply into the garden. He grabbed Lilith’s hand and they rushed to the mansion, Panther ahead of them.
Lilith barely reached the steps when a single bloodcurdling cry tore across the property. She turned to look. Daniel tugged at her, but she couldn’t move, enthralled. The flames leaped up and spread from fence to fence like a fiery red flower, issuing clouds of acrid smoke. Everything but the mansion was now aflame.
Suddenly her legs gave out. The emotional aftermath of her tribulations finally caught up with her. Her ears buzzed. She felt her father drag her up the stairs, burst through the doors, and carry her into the dinner hall. He sat her on a chair by the window. She pressed her face to the glass, staring, dimly aware of the people who surrounded her.
“Where did you find her? What happened? Daniel!”
“Pup, you okay?”
“Lilith?”
She didn’t get a chance to answer.
One last horrible wail pierced through the turmoil. A colossal smoky rose grew from the middle of the garden. Within seconds, it bloomed and withered. Its petals flew off, dissolving into nothing, until the entire thing was gone. The fire died. Stillness rolled over the property, punctured by the distant cawing of the crows.