– Now Dougal rarely spends the night with me, and occupies another room. But he likes to sit here, thinking about the next difficult problem. He says this nostalgic atmosphere inspires him.
– Book child? – I asked.
– Oh, what are you talking about! Since childhood, he believed that all the most useful and interesting things are stored in the head, and not on paper. Some kind of inexplicable hostility to letters. I hardly even read textbooks, I said why, if there is a teacher who has speaking skills? The compulsory program was too easy for him – he was bored, and since he was bored, that meant he was trying to find something more interesting to do. In just six months of elementary school, I seem to have mastered all the healing spells that can be used on children. And she could create a portal to the principal’s office or to the school infirmary without thinking for a second.
I smiled involuntarily.
– And what activities did he consider interesting?
“For example, find out what will happen if you apply an eternal growth spell with a speed component to the royal turnips, and cast an endless doubling spell on the humates in the compost, so that the poor growing organism has enough food. Or how fast the regeneration of mandrake roots will be when cemetery soil is added to the nutrient mixture. Turnips broke through the roof of the school greenhouse and covered the entire school stadium, along with the players and spectator stands, with leaves, and three magicians from the environmental control department had to tear it out of the ground at once. Fortunately, the “poor growing organism” did not have time to produce seeds. Although ecologists convinced me that the seeds would have retained the original characteristics of the plant, but… they didn’t know my son!
I laughed out loud. I would never have believed that the stern Dr. Norwood, with his “pick up your hair”, “close the doors” and “don’t loom” could destroy the school greenhouse with an experiment (you can immediately see the future genius!) and in general, it seems, was a headache for the teachers and the director. “Poor growing organism”, that’s what you should call a banal root vegetable! Although… it’s far from banal!
– And the mandrake? I hope she didn't kill anyone?
– The experiment ended before it began. Dougal was caught in the cemetery. According to the caretaker, the boy was trying to raise a zombie. He himself claimed that this was not a ritual circle, but just a platform for disinfecting the land, because he did not want to introduce pests into the greenhouse! But Dougal was expelled in disgrace and forbidden to poke his nose into the cemetery territory. One way or another, he had no luck with the cemetery land.
Sabella stopped short, and I unexpectedly took her hand.
– Let's hope that the ban is still in force and he won't be unlucky again.
– Yes. Hope! – She, as if waking up, shook her head and gently squeezed my fingers. – I can show you photographs. Want to?
– Certainly! I like to look at photographs – by the way, the honest truth, especially if the pictures were taken unexpectedly, and not in a studio for retouching. – They can be very… honest, perhaps.
There were no photo albums in this world. We came into a small room, where opposite the already familiar screen wall and the “rubber” platform in front of it stood a cozy sofa and a small table. Probably to drink tea in front of the TV without descending into arguments with the announcer. A short smooth gesture and the screen lit up.
“Dougal,” Sabella said briefly. And she asked when a scattering of tiny pictures appeared on the screen. – Is it very difficult for you, Sally? In our world? If not for this monstrous ritual, would you have become interested or at least gotten used to it? After all, for a person who has never mastered magic, everything here probably looks very strange,” she nodded at the screen. – Portals, spells, tea and puddings out of nowhere?
“It’s hard to find yourself… out of your mind,” I joked sadly. – Lose everything you're used to. Work… my favorite job, yes. It’s probably really for the best that the person you love suddenly wasn’t there. ? here – here it’s interesting.
– ? your parents? – Sabella asked carefully, as if she was afraid to touch on a sore subject.
– Seven years ago. Car accident.
“I’m very sorry,” it sounded much more sincere than all the “sorry” for the ghost of Charlotte. “My father died when I was nine, but I still remember him, young, cheerful, as if he was always there. Well,” she added after a pause. – If we want you to work tomorrow and not fall asleep in piles of correspondence, then we need to hurry up. Of course, I can give you an elixir of vigor, but it has side effects that Dougal will not be able to ignore.
She waved her hand again, and instead of small pictures, one large one appeared on the screen. It's not even a TV. This is some kind of multifunctional TV-computer! Unless you have to click the mouse.
– Here you go, Sir Bradlington, the one who has the skills of oral speech. Teacher of natural history and natural magic. Well, his mantle belongs to Dougal. They got along great.
A thin gentleman in a cap, with a brushed mustache and a square chin, sported a striped suit and a bamboo cane. He stood, apparently, at the entrance to the school, and behind him a flock of kids about five or six years old was stomping around; one of the boys actually dressed up in a black robe that evoked memories of Oxford graduates. Well, as soon as I dressed up, I drowned in it – that would be more accurate! The robe fell in beautiful folds, spread along the wide steps like a royal train, and a curly, uncut crown stuck out from above and dark eyes sparkled provocatively.
– And that’s later. High school. Dougal with Rosa Aleus. Next to him is his friend, Chester Fully. Now he is one of the leading healers in Britain.
Rosa Leus was not a girl at all, as I thought for a moment, but… probably something like that same royal turnip. I mean, a victim, that is, a product of another experiment. An unidentifiable (by me, at least) plant that looks like… nothing like anything! A little from rose hips, a little from cabbage, something almost imperceptible from an orchid…
– This Rose was their project. You see – twelve rhizomes. And usually – seven, in rare cases – any odd number up to eleven. Nobody believed that they would succeed.
– Lord, what is this?! Is it… moving?! Or it seemed to me? – I didn’t see any rhizomes at all, except that they were the same moving tentacles, one of which was gently stroked by the round-cheeked, freckled Chester Fully. Dougal did not show any tenderness towards Rose, but she affectionately wrapped three tentacles around his wrist at once. And she even, it seems, tried to press a juicy curly leaf to her cheek.
– Yes, this is straight up… some kind of love triangle! – I exclaimed.
Sabella laughed.
–You're almost right. Rosa lived with us for another ten years, can you imagine? This is an amazing plant, difficult to care for, very rare and, one might say, intelligent. True, Dougal was never particularly interested in botany. He always liked chemistry better. ? Chester adored Rose, he read sonnets to her when he came to visit. Shakespeare. “What does the name mean? “oza smells like a rose”… Roses Aleus are partial to poetry and music.
I probably looked completely stunned. Intelligent plants, partial to sonnets! And Shakespeare too! Did our William Shakespeare really travel around the world? Or is this world almost a reflection of ours?
Or maybe, on the contrary, the reflection is ours?
“You are tired,” Sabella said softly. – Maybe we can see the rest tomorrow?
“Let’s do it tomorrow,” I agreed with relief. – That is, thank you, Sabella, I would be happy to. I just seem to have an overabundance of information – my head is swelling.