Page 19 of Evergreen Academy (Society of Magical Botanists #1)

Chapter Eighteen

T he herb affinity test took place in the kitchen, where baskets and canisters of fresh herbs lined an entire wall and those still living overflowed out of planters along the counters under the wall of windows.

Professor Mendoza greeted me when I entered the kitchen. His wheelchair was covered with delicate vines, and a butterfly rested on his shoulder.

“Call me Sage. They’re way too formal around here. We’re all magical botanists. I’m not sure how much our non-magical PhDs should mean here.”

“Okay,” I said, still not wanting to refer to an instructor by their first name.

“Well, let’s get right to it. Most herb affinities can be identified through cooking or through healing. We will test both today.”

Sage clapped once then swiveled to the counter, where cooking utensils were neatly organized in labeled bins both on and underneath the countertop. “You can cook any recipe you want from this cookbook.” He hefted a large book onto the counter and opened it.

“Feel free to freelance and fudge the quantities. Cooking is an art, not a science.”

I’d heard that phrase before, and though I was an artist, that ability had never transferred into food preparation.

I’d mastered the most popular recipes at Vera’s Café and was good at baking and decorating our desserts, but my cooking skills were limited.

I peered at the giant cookbook and began to flip through the pages, seeking something simple.

When I landed on a description of lentil soup that claimed to be a one-pot recipe, I got to work dicing onions and chopping carrots.

As I prepped, I noticed that Professor Mendoza—Sage—had placed a tiny bowl on the countertop near my cutting board, and I was surprised to realize that my eyes weren’t watering while I diced the onions.

“What is that?” I asked, nodding toward the petite ceramic bowl.

“It’s a ground-up mixture of parsley, celery, coffee beans, cardamom, and cloves.

It counteracts the sulfuric acid, along with our practice of keeping our onions chilled.

I’m not sure if the mixture works for the layperson, but I amplify the herbs’ ability to combat the acid with my affinity powers. Pretty neat, right?”

“Very. The school should bottle that and sell it.”

Sage was about to respond when the lights in the kitchen flickered once, and I felt a subtle tug on the finger that housed my emerald ring. Sage rolled out of the room, and I hesitated, wondering if I should continue making the recipe .

Ultimately, I finished preparing the soup and left it on the stove to simmer. The spices quickly turned fragrant, much stronger than the herbs in the little spice jars in our kitchen at home.

I heard soft voices in the hallway outside the kitchen and moved near the door, bending my ear toward the sound.

“I thought the shield was charged at midsummer?” a voice I couldn’t place asked.

“It was. It seems to be… weakening.”

I stilled, recognizing Professor East’s voice. What was this shield they were talking about? I glanced at my ring, realizing it must be related to how they kept people off the campus.

“We’ve known it’s been losing strength, but to flicker like that? Should we be concerned?” That voice sounded like Sage.

“We’re exploring our options. Let’s just be glad it came back on immediately,” Professor East said.

“And what about?—”

The voices faded out as the speakers seemed to move farther away. I hurried back toward the stove and gave the soup a little stir. A few moments later, Sage rolled back into the room. He seemed surprised to see me, as if he’d forgotten what I was doing there.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“I think so,” Sage said. “How’s that soup coming along? Let’s let it sit while you do the healing portion of the test.”

I followed Sage into a neighboring room.

Like the kitchen, it was littered with herbs, but many of these were unfamiliar.

The counters were stocked with heavy mortar and pestles, tiny vials, and copper glassware.

It reminded me of an apothecary out of old movies but with some more advanced equipment scattered throughout. I spotted a centrifuge in the corner.

“This is the apothecary,” Sage said, confirming my thoughts. But he didn’t launch into further explanation, seemingly distracted by the conversation that had occurred outside the kitchen.

He whisked me through whipping up a batch of elderberry syrup. Once I’d produced a large jar of the dark, thick syrup, Sage picked it up, scooped out a bit of the syrup, and spooned a small quantity into his mouth.

I waited with bated breath, unsure what he was testing for.

“I don’t feel the spike of an immune reaction, which tells me this is an ordinary recipe.”

When I looked confused, he added, “If you have the affinity for medicinal herbs, this recipe will cause an immune spike that would heal someone from a common ailment instantly. If you don’t, it will still help speed the healing but not as dramatically.

Our elderberries are stronger than most. As you can imagine, botanists don’t stay sick for long around here.

” He grinned, and I smiled tentatively, though I was pretty sure I’d just failed another test.

“Your soup should be done now,” he said, and we returned to the kitchen.

Sage opened the pot and scooped us each a small ladleful into bowls. “This is the fun part. If you have the affinity for cooking herbs, this is going to be one of the most flavorful bowls of soup you’ve ever eaten.”

We both took a spoonful, and I thought it tasted rather delicious.

The herbs had lived up to their potent smell, adding a spike of flavor that hit my tongue just right.

But Sage took another bite and shook his head.

“Just normal flavor. I’ll have the students pack it up for you to take home. You live off campus, right?”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry to say you won’t be joining our group of herbal affinity students. It was nice meeting you, Briar. I look forward to having you for your Kitchen Botany rotation. We’ll make a chef out of you yet.”

I smiled and thanked him then left the kitchen, my shoulders turning inward as I realized I’d failed yet another affinity test.

And I only had one more day of testing to go. A few botanists had multiple affinities, but I’d already struck out on most. Originally, I’d been hoping to have a cool combination of affinities, but now, I’d be grateful to test positive for just one.

I watched the butterfly float away from Sage’s shoulder and out the window, then I left Evergreen Academy for the night.