Page 61 of Evergreen Academy (Society of Magical Botanists #1)

Chapter Fifty-Nine

C allan returned to classes the following week, and no one—aside from my friends, Nevah, Eli, and a few of Callan’s closest tree affinity friends—knew what had really happened.

I was impressed with the ability of our small group to keep a secret but decided maybe it was inherent in our DNA.

Plants were natural secret keepers. Maybe that meant magical botanists were more inclined to be too.

As April rolled into May and we approached the end of the school year, I tried not to be disheartened at how much my progress had slowed.

Callan and I sat in the library one night—he not being medically cleared to go back to the tree houses yet—and I expressed my frustration.

Candles flickered in their sconces on the walls, and a pleasant, jasmine-smelling breeze drifted through the space.

We had the place to ourselves, most students choosing to study outside on such a brilliant spring evening.

“I know I did this to myself, but things are so much harder without access to my affinity studies on campus. I don’t get to train with Nevah anymore, and the sessions I’ve been doing on my own on the Wildflower Trail at SCC have been pitiful at best. At least my painting skills have improved a ton this quarter, since I don’t have much else to focus on. ”

Callan’s eyebrows pinched together, and he reached across the table to flip through my notebook. “You have gotten really good. Even better than you were with the painting you submitted at the Floral Fete, and that was pretty incredible.”

“Um, thanks,” I said, shifting uncomfortably under the praise but smiling nonetheless. I was used to Callan pushing me to do better, not reflecting on how far I’d come. “But I’m not sure how much good that will do me in the magical botany world.”

He skimmed the early pages of my botanist’s notebook and paused on one of my sketches. “Where did you get the idea for this plant sketch?”

I leaned over to see which sketch he was pointing at and scanned my memory through the early days of the school year, before my powers had been activated.

I’d picked that sketch to mimic because of how unusual its markings were.

It almost looked like tiny fairies were drawn on the inner side of the petals.

“I saw it in a book here in the library.”

“It looks like a genie violet.” Callan’s face scrunched up in concentration. “Those went extinct shortly after the Renaissance period. They were so rare that non-magical botanists still don’t have a record that they ever existed. What book did you see it in?”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but I let my mind sift through the memories of that time, trying to place what my days had been like then.

I sat up a little, remembering something.

“I’m pretty sure I copied that one from a botanical art book.

There’s a collection of really old ones.

I remember them because I was trying to be delicate with the pages. ”

“Show me.”

I nodded, and we wound our way along the circular walls of the library atrium.

I led us to the tucked-away table inside the tree where I’d spent most of my first quarter when I didn’t have any affinity studies.

Some of the books I’d been studying were still stored in a drawer underneath it.

I pulled them out and slid them across the table to Callan.

“Here they are. These books inspired the painting I did for the Floral Fete, actually.”

Callan bit his lip, face screwed up in concentration.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just a feeling.”

I waited, hoping he’d say more. I was utterly confused about why we were even standing here, looking at these ancient botanical books that I hadn’t touched in months, but I trusted Callan’s instincts.

“Let me go get Professor East. Wait here.”

A few minutes later, Callan returned with Professor East and Professor Tenella. He indicated the heavy, weathered books on the table. “Briar was studying botanical art books and journals this fall. These are the ones she was referencing just before the winter solstice.”

“And you think this has something to do with her powers?” Professor East asked. I could tell he was having trouble making whatever leap Callan had made, just as I was.

But then Professor Tenella slid one of the books toward herself and opened it.

She looked at me curiously, her head tilting slightly to the side.

Finally, she spoke. “We haven’t heard of this for centuries.

But maybe…” Her words were directed at Professor East, who waited patiently for her to continue.

She glanced toward the library door and whispered.

A ribbon of nearby viny flowered plants slid across it, and it softly closed.

“There are stories of magical botanists who had the ability to store their affinity powers in the pages of their botanical drawings. The rumor was that powerful botanical artists of the Renaissance period weaved a bit of their affinity magic into the pages when they created their books. The abilities to extract the magic from the books ran through a few family lines for some generations then disappeared. The theory was that the magic stored in the books had dried out. But maybe…” She turned toward me then.

“Maybe the family lines just went missing for a while.”

I struggled to comprehend everything she had said. “You think that, by reading these books, I drew magic out of them?”

“Less drawing the magic out, I think, than activating the magic that was locked in you. An epigenetic change, perhaps, though they wouldn’t have known that back then. But these lines have been little more than myth for centuries. The details have been lost to time.”

“Fascinating,” Professor East murmured, running his hand along the pages as if searching for power he hadn’t known was there.

“If that kind of affinity only ran in family lines, that means she’d be a descendant of one of the great botanical artists, correct?

” He eyed some of the portraits that clung to the library’s walls.

Professor Tenella nodded. “That’s my understanding. Some of the most powerful magical botanists of the Renaissance period dabbled in art. Many of them became obsessed with botanical drawing.”

“And Ms. Whelan would be a descendant of whoever’s book activated her powers?”

I sucked in a breath as Professor Tenella nodded almost imperceptibly.

Professor East gently turned to the first inside page of each book—pages I’d always skipped right over—and I held my breath.

“These two books”—he turned them toward me and lifted his eyes to meet mine—“were authored by Leonardo da Vinci.”