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Chapter Eighteen

W hen I entered the teahouse a few days later, there was fevered conversation happening among the second-years. I made myself a coffee then joined my friends at our usual table.

“What’s all the excitement about?” I asked.

“The first field studies envelope was found this morning by an aquatic affinity. Conway went out for an early morning swim and found an envelope made of seaweed waiting on the shore when he surfaced,” Aurielle explained.

“His assignment is something to do with developing aquatic plant-based antibiotics,” Coral added.

“Well, that assignment doesn’t sound too different from before, right?” I asked.

“A sample size of one isn’t very big, but you’re right, that isn’t a major departure from previous years,” Yasmin said.

“Am I the only one who’s a bit nervous? What if I get an assignment I don’t want?” Aurielle asked.

“Professor East said you can turn it down. Just leave the envelope where it is,” I said.

“But what if I don’t find another one?” Aurielle frowned.

“Is that possible? Don’t all second-years do field studies?” I asked.

“I can only speak for how it’s been done in previous years. If you passed on too many, they might stick you on a weed removal project or something,” Yasmin said.

We all groaned at that idea, and I vowed not to pass on the first decent assignment I found. I was up for a lot of things, but an academic year of weed removal was not one of them.

After breakfast, we split to get ready for class in our rooms then met up outside.

Aside from the fact that I couldn’t tap into my magic, I loved our Advanced Ecological Studies class.

We were learning research techniques that would likely be useful once we started our field studies, and I enjoyed spending the time outside while it wasn’t too cold yet.

Today, we were conducting population studies with Professor Sato. I made detailed sketches and notes in my Anno Duo notebook as we examined a bed of seaside succulents on a makeshift coastline by the pond.

My eyes flicked to Callan a couple of times during class. He was working a few yards away in the forest with the other tree affinities, studying a different population. Every time I looked over, he was working at full speed, barely glancing away from his notebook.

I couldn’t help replaying what he had said in the treehouse.

There was something between us even if we couldn’t act on it right now.

I wasn’t sure how long the warring emotions of elation and disappointment those confirmations brought on could exist in me, but I was going to do my best to act natural in front of our classmates.

Still, I couldn’t help it if an inquiring question or two slipped out. “Is it just me, or is Callan extra focused this morning?”

“Extra sexy, maybe,” Coral said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes .

“I’d be throwing myself into my work, too, if my mom was interfering at my college,” Yasmin said sympathetically. “I get that she’s on the Board of Regents, but still.”

I didn’t say what I was thinking, which was that Callan was facing more than interference with the school. His mom was pressuring him to go into politics when anyone who even slightly knew Callan could see that that path wouldn’t make him happy.

At the end of the class period, I strolled over to him.

“Have a second?” I asked.

He shrugged his book bag across his body. “I always have time for my tutee.” There was a playful edge in his voice, and I grinned as I fell into step alongside him.

“Want a quick tree walk? I need to collect some cellulose fibers from the silk-cotton tree for Plant Adaptations, and you can get to it more easily than me.” It was a blatant excuse to spend a few more minutes with him, but it wasn’t false.

A lazy smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Always tempting me with a good time. Let’s do it.”

We scaled a nearby tree, and Callan led the way while I stayed close on his heels. The trees dipped their branches together to form a solid path for him as we approached, and I matched his pace to catch the tail end of it.

“I heard one of the aquatic affinities found an assignment today,” I began.

“Right. That was Conway.”

“And it seems to be a medicine-related project,” I prompted.

“Yeah, I’m happy for him. I think it will be a good fit.”

“Maybe you can join him sometimes?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. But I’ll make do with what I have.”

“Wait a minute. Do you know your assignment already?”

He gave a little shrug, still putting one foot in front of the other. “I found the envelope last night when I left the treehouse.”

Memory of that conversation had my cheeks burning, but thankfully, Callan was walking in front and couldn’t see me.

Given that his assignment had arrived last night, he’d likely been the first one to receive an assignment, not Conway.

But it fit. He wasn’t one to tell tales about himself.

The news would spread like wildfire on its own, eventually, since he was a founder’s descendant.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” I didn’t want to press too hard, given what his mom had said about the plans for his future, but I was dying to know.

“It came in a pine-needle envelope when I was walking back to campus, right at the edge of the forest. It was floating past me in a rush of leaves.”

My heart rate sped up, but I kept quiet and let him continue.

“I’ll be working at one of the local field offices.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I offered tentatively. The local field offices weren’t known to be overly political.

When Callan spoke again, his tone was calm, almost disassociated. “It comes with a requirement that I report our findings directly to our connections in Sacramento.”

Aw. Now, I understood, and my heart sank.

Was that why he’d been quiet during class?

I tried to put a positive spin on it. “Maybe you’ll have an opportunity to share some of your medical findings with the botanists in Sacramento.

I’m sure once they see how much you excel at it, your advisor will have no choice but to support you in that goal. ”

“I don’t know if that opportunity will arise. But maybe… Maybe you’re right,” he said after a moment.

I didn’t say the rest of what I was thinking.

That life was short. Sometimes cruelly short.

I closed my eyes momentarily, thinking of my mother, gone at age thirty-two.

A woman so full of hopes and dreams that she could have conquered the entire world if she’d never been in that car accident.

But I had never shared any of that with Callan.

I cleared my throat and stumbled forward as I missed a step. Immediately, I felt a gust of wind press along my back. Once I was stable, I noted Callan hadn’t even looked back at the disturbance.

Of course . He had made a wind cocoon for me like he had done for Aurielle and me during Orchard Lantern Tag. I hadn’t felt it this time, which meant he’d been intentionally subtle.

“All I’m saying is don’t hold yourself back because of other’s intentions. Take your opportunities—or challenges—and make them your own. That’s what you’ve taught me to do.”

Callan turned around then, and I almost ran into him. He touched my arms gently, steadying me. “That’s good advice. Thank you. I’ll try.”

I startled, not expecting him to agree with me that easily. Maybe the emotion behind my words had come through despite my efforts to hide it.

Callan removed his hands from my arms and turned back around. “The silk-cotton tree is coming up on our left. Do you want me to grab the fibers for you? How much do you need?”

I walked him through my instructions but couldn’t stop noticing the ghost of the feeling of his hands on my arms. I was a candle, and Callan was the wick whose light lingered on me with the briefest touch of flame.

When I got back to the academy, I went straight for the library, hoping to read, sketch and clear my head.

I settled onto a cushioned seat in the window and opened one of the da Vinci journals.

There was a lot to distract me from learning more about my ancestry, but I wanted to at least skim through the journal that was available to me every few weeks.

I noticed new details to da Vinci’s sketches with each subsequent viewing of a page.

After about thirty minutes of copying some of da Vinci’s sketches into my own notebook, a soft tapping sounded on the window behind my seat in the library, and I turned.

Leaves were swirling outside. With a glance in either direction to make sure that I was alone, I opened the lower window, let the leaves in, then sealed it closed again.

I found the note mixed in with the leaves .

As my eyes scanned the paper, my excitement morphed to a sharp curiosity. The only person who had sent me notes this way was Callan, and this was not his handwriting. The note wasn’t handwritten at all but instead contained raised typeface text, as if created by a typewriter.

Follow the lights at midnight. Come alone.