The Verdant Engine

London, 1889. In the Ashworth Conservatory, orchids bloom on copper stems and ferns exhale sweet-scented steam. Here, plants aren't grown—they're engineered. And they've begun to evolve.

Botanical illustrator Maren Ashwell notices what the engineers miss: brass-winged seeds coating her windowsill, pollinator drones straying beyond greenhouse walls, growth patterns that shift between generations. Something is spreading through London's smog-choked air, riding factory smoke, nesting in chimney soot.

A secret society believes the city's industry has poisoned the earth beyond repair. Their remedy: let nature reclaim it. They've already released the seeds. London's own breath is carrying them everywhere. When spring warmth triggers germination, the city will be consumed—not by fire, but by root and vine.

Maren has weeks to stop an overgrowth she's not sure should be stopped—and plants that have stopped listening to anyone.

A steampunk ecological thriller where technology grows wild and salvation might look like surrender.