Page 12 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Chapter Eight

The ride back to the university passed quietly, Ollas sitting across from Eunny in the small carriage as she stared out the window.

Ollas looked down at his lap, at his hands curled into useless fists.

He was desperate to break the silence, but unsure of what to say.

How to address the discomfort of what had happened? Or was it better to pretend, ignore?

“Your mother seems…” He paused, fumbling for a word.

Eunny faced him, a wry smile tugging at her lips.

“Cold,” he said.

She let out a bark of laughter. “As a fish. She’s a coldhearted bitch, Nev, and she’s the first to admit it.”

“Did she even answer any of your questions about the Coalition?”

“She doesn’t answer anything she doesn’t want to. She’s an expert at that,” Eunny muttered.

“I’m sorry things are so…I don’t know. I’m just sorry, I guess.”

“Don’t be. Besides, damn, Nev! You lied.” Eunny leaned across the carriage to poke him in his good shoulder. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He ducked his head to hide his grin. “Hard to believe she and Yerina are sisters.”

“I feel bad for my aunt. I walked away a long time ago, but she still tries to have us be her idea of a family.” Eunny sobered, weariness stealing across her face.

“The Mighty Leaf was supposed to be a joint venture or something, but Bioon didn’t care.

She hates the Valley, and a teashop didn’t exactly fit her power-hungry lifestyle.

But I can’t convince my auntie that Bioon is a lost cause. ”

Ollas shook his head. His ma didn’t see her older brother much now that he’d moved down to Graelynd, but they corresponded with regularity. The coldness Eunny spoke of—and to someone as welcoming as Yerina—baffled him.

“I don’t trust her,” Eunny said quietly.

“My mother. I don’t know enough about the Restorers to judge, but I’m suspicious of the Coalition just on principle.

If my mother’s here repping them, and especially with how quick she was to volunteer to come up, to the Valley, in person? They’re up to something.”

“The school won’t let them meddle. They won’t,” Ollas insisted at her dubious look. “The school doesn’t bow to Graelynd’s whims, and I don’t think even the Coalition will want to fight with the Order. And they will get involved if anyone tries to exert influence that’s against the school’s values.”

The Order of Sylveren, the ruling council for the entire valley, ensured that the region’s stance as a neutral zone—open to all regardless of nationality, provided they came with good-will—was respected.

Rarely did they need to enforce such matters with violence, but the region’s history was marked with such events.

When the Order acted, they did so swiftly, thoroughly, and even countries further abroad than Graelynd remembered.

Not even the warlords of Eylle had tried to take on the Valley after their first attempt centuries ago was slapped down.

If a kingdom as volatile as Eylle didn’t dare to mess with the Valley, Ollas didn’t think Graelynd’s governing body of trade would, either.

Eunny hummed in consideration. “That’d be something.” She shrugged, her expression still grim. “Wouldn’t put it past them to still try, though, at least until they get caught. The Coalition cares about money more than anything else. A cure for the poison could be worth a lot.”

“Rhell’s not rolling in gold after the war and six years of their land being wrecked by the corruption.”

“Maybe I should’ve said value. Rhell has a wellspring, Graelynd doesn’t.

I mean, it does fine with the way the ley lines run, since it gets to be the Valley Junior, but the Coalition is always looking for more.

More, I don’t know… Just, more.” Eunny was looking out the window again, but she seemed lost in memory.

“That’s what the delegation was, I’m almost certain of it. ”

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head, gaze still unfocused, looking deep into her past. “A trade delegation, between Eylle and the Coalition? They don’t care about each other or mending fences.

That’s politicking for the Councils. I mean, I believe that the Coalition wanted assurances in place for smooth trading, but I always figured that the Coalition was really just looking to get Graelynd officially into the war. ”

Ollas nodded along; it made sense, seeing as Graelynd boasted an impressive navy. Once deployed, Eylle couldn’t match it, especially so far from the empire’s waters.

Eunny shrugged. “But when I was there, before they kidnapped us in place and didn’t let anyone leave, it felt like the Eyllics were there to deal, but something changed.”

“A different deal than trade?”

“Maybe. Or different trading than I was led to believe, but then again, Mother Dearest didn’t actually inform me of much.

I expected there to be a lot more paper-shuffling, though.

They wanted…” Eunny broke off, hiding a grimace with a shake of her head.

“I can’t really remember. Those were shit times.

All I’ll say is that the Coalition doesn’t care about good or right for the world , just for themselves.

If others benefit, that’s nice and all, but they’re looking out for themselves first.”

Ollas didn’t know what to say. It was the most he’d ever heard Eunny say of her time with the delegation.

It felt like a chance to do some explaining of his own, despite the bitter sort of finality with which she’d spoken—the window of opportunity, if he was going to take it, already beginning to close.

They were in a carriage, no interruptions present.

The school was still a few minutes away.

Nothing but silence and dwindling opportunities between them.

Hadn’t he come back to Sylveren to try and make amends, start something new?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “About what happened to the delegation. I’m sorry for my part in it.”

Eunny swung around to face him, confusion on her face. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s my fault.” Ollas looked down at his hands clasped atop his knee.

He steeled himself, forced a steadying breath.

This had gone on far too long. “I found signs in the woods, thought it was poachers. I’m the one who insisted to my group that we follow them.

We found this cache, and I was digging through it when the fight started.

I broke protocol—I just ran out there after the noise.

If I hadn’t done that, if I hadn’t gotten hurt, or at least stopped you from?—”

“Hold on.” Eunny raised a hand to stop him. “You’re apologizing because your actions led to me and a bunch of others being rescued ? From Eyllic kidnappers ?” Her voice rose with each word.

“I— Yes?” Ollas said, wary. “That’s kind of simplifying it a?—”

“If you hadn’t, we’d still be kidnapped, you dolt.” Her hands shook as she gestured emphatically, nearly hitting him in the close quarters of the carriage.

“Yes, well, no, but I mean, it’s my fault because I didn’t stop you! I-I screwed up your magic,” Ollas protested. “I knew you were tired, but when you tried to heal me, I just… And then your magic?—”

“Ollas, you didn’t make that happen. It— It got away from me. That’s not your fault.” Eunny reached out and pressed her hand against his mouth when he tried to speak. “Listen to me. It’s. Not. Your. Fault. No one blames you, least of all me.”

“You should,” he whispered, and steeled himself to admit the rest. How he’d wanted to feel her magic, to know that side of Eunny Song. His once-in-a-lifetime chance, or so he’d thought. “Do you re?—”

She pressed her finger against his lips. “If anything, you should hate me . I’m the Healer Who Hurts, remember?” Though her tone was light, the smile she gave him was sad.

“Never,” Ollas said. “I’ve never hated you. Never blamed you, either. I just… I don’t know what to say. Whenever that day gets mentioned, you’re pretty quick to shut it down. Understandably,” he added.

Her lips twitched, more grimace than smile.

“I can talk about it, in general. But no, I don’t love being asked to recount how it felt to have my magic go rogue.

I’m not lying when I say I don’t remember much of that day.

When I try, it’s… unpleasant.” Her gaze went unfocused again, as if she was looking into the past and not at the carriage wall.

“Doesn’t put me in a rush to try and get it back.

It was the worst day of my life, Nev, but none of that’s on you. ”

“Even though?—”

She took one of his hands between hers, leaning closer to meet his eyes. “I am grateful that you still want to be friends. More than you can ever know. I don’t know that I deserve it, but can we just go on from that?”

Ollas wanted to refute her points, convince her that she deserved everything. Happiness. Peace. Desperation and despair spiraled through him at her gentle, relieved affirmation of friendship. All he could muster was a soft, “Okay.”

“Good.” Eunny sat up, her manner morphing from solemn to light and brisk once more. “Glad that’s settled.”

“Do you ever miss it?” he asked, hesitant but curious. “Graelynd. Your life there?”

“Not really. Living in Central is…” Eunny wrinkled her nose in thought, then shrugged.

“It takes a certain kind of personality. I made better friends during my summers up here anyway, Dae excluded, but she was so wrapped up in her old life there, too, that we didn’t see each other much even when we lived in the same city.

And the work—well, I couldn’t have opened the café down there. Not the style.”

The carriage rolled to a stop at the stable area below Sylveren University’s main courtyard.

“You up for finally giving me the greenhouse tour?” she asked.