Page 23 of Spellbound and Gagged

"I don't know, Leaf," Thaddeus was saying, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain. "What if I've been going about this all wrong?"

Juno peered around the doorframe, curiosity overriding her manners. Thaddeus stood with his back to her, apparently addressing a potted plant on his workbench. As she watched, the plant's leaves drooped sympathetically.

"I mean, look at Juno," Thaddeus continued, running a hand through his hair. "Her methods may be different, but they're effective. What if I've been too rigid in my approach? Too defensive?"

Was Thaddeus Shadowspire, Mr. "Defensive Herbology is the Only Way," actually expressing doubts about his methods? And to a plant, no less?

As if in response to Thaddeus's words, the plants around his laboratory began to move. A vine curled itself into a question mark. A flower hung its head, petals drooping. A cactus somehow managed to look skeptical.

"And then there's Juno herself," Thaddeus said, his voice taking on a tone Juno had never heard before. "We used to work so well together. Before I left for my dream job in the rainforest, which turned out to be more of a nightmare. I should have never left here. Left her."

A tendril from a nearby plant reached out and patted him on the shoulder.

Juno felt her heart constrict. She'd never seen Thaddeus like this, so vulnerable and open. It made her want to rush in and... what? Comfort him? Argue with him? Kiss him senseless?

Before she could decide, her traitorous mouth opened of its own accord. "Oh Thaddeus, my rival so dear, your doubts and your fears I chance to overhear."

Thaddeus whirled around, eyes wide with shock. "Juno? What are you—why are you rhyming?"

Juno stepped into the lab, her face burning with embarrassment. "A potion gone wrong, a side effect strange, has caused all my speech to rearrange."

Thaddeus stared at her for a moment. "Only you could turn a magical mishap into poetry."

"It's not funny. This rhyming's a curse. I came here for help, but you're making it worse."

Thaddeus wiped the smirk off his face. "I'm sorry. You're right, of course. Let me take a look at that potion of yours. Maybe together we can figure out how to reverse the effects."

As Thaddeus examined the vial of potion, Juno watched him closely. The furrow of concentration between his brows, the way he bit his lower lip as he tested drop after drop of the potion against other herbs and plants—it all brought back memories of late nights studying together, of shared dreams and stolen kisses. They had been so much in love. Did love like that really go away after harsh words and long absences?

It hadn't for her.

Maybe it hadn't for him either.

"So," she said, breaking the silence, "do you often confide in your plants and share all your doubt? It looked rather thoughtful, I must point out."

Thaddeus set down the vial, meeting Juno's eyes. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to plants than people. They don't judge. They don't have expectations. They just listen."

"I could be a sympathetic ear." She held out a hand to him. "But you would have to keep me near." She wanted to turn back time. Maybe she could have gone with him. Maybe they could have had a long-distance relationship. But she couldn't affect time any more than she could stop rhyming.

He took her hand, kissed it. "I'd like that."

"Roses are red. Violets are blue. Sugar is sweet and..."I love you. But she didn't want to rhyme it. "So are you."

"That's the best you can do?" Thaddeus's eyes crinkled with amusement, but there was something else there too—a tenderness that made Juno's breath catch in her throat. He was still holding her hand, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin.

"You're not falling into rhyme too? I didn't think it was catching! Ah-choo."

"It's not," he said. "I almost have the antidote."

A deafening explosion shook the entire laboratory. Juno and Thaddeus stumbled, instinctively clutching at each other for balance.

"What was that?" Thaddeus exclaimed.

"The greenhouse, I fear, is the source of that sound," Juno said, already moving towards the door. "We must hurry there, before chaos abounds."

They raced through the corridors, the smell of smoke and magical discharge growing stronger as they approached the greenhouse. When they burst through the doors, they were met with a scene of utter chaos.

Plants of all sizes and varieties were running amok, freed from their pots by the force of the explosion. Vines whipped through the air, flowers spewed colorful pollen, and what looked like a very angry shrub was attempting to break down the far wall.

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