Page 17 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Chapter Ten

A few more days passed, and though Gransen never broached the topic again, their conversation lingered at the back of Eunny’s mind.

“Give him a chance.”

“A chance to what?”

“Are you going to make me say it?”

Yet every time Eunny was around Ollas—schlepping his bags, dragging crates around, assisting with the watering—though conversation flowed easily between them, inertia kept the words inane.

Everything was so good right now. Uncomplicated.

Ollas would get excited about some garden thing, and even though Eunny couldn’t understand half of it, just listening to him had that satisfied warmth filling her brain.

Eunny didn’t think she’d been unhappy before, but there was something nice about laughing in the morning over breakfast, getting her hands dirty in the greenhouse most afternoons, hanging out in the Heartwood or even just in the apartment’s main room each evening.

Slapping the papers out of Gransen’s hands whenever she got the chance. Joking with Ollas. Making him blush.

It had her thinking—not seriously, but just for fun, during her off hours—about what it could mean for her, accepting the notion of Ollas’s forgiveness.

Giving him a chance, as Gransen had said.

But the old guilt rose up every time, and as she tidied up the living area one afternoon, she realized that Ollas’s bottle of healing salve hadn’t been used in a few days.

Most of the bandages remained in a neat, untouched pile by his couch bed.

They were nearing the month mark of her “assisting” him.

No point in risking the good times they were having when soon she wouldn’t be there at all.

But not quite yet.

Taking advantage of a rare break in the weather, Eunny went into town. She hurried past the repair café, where, barely visible in her periphery, boards and water-repellant fabric shades temporarily replaced the busted windows.

Stepping inside the Mighty Leaf, Eunny flashed the note she’d received from Yerina earlier that morning to her Uncle Dex.

He gave her a gruff nod and jerked his head to indicate her favorite booth at the back.

Considering gruffness was his resting state, Eunny almost wouldn’t have read anything into it, but coupled with her aunt’s note being devoid of her usual cheeriness, it had a sense of trepidation growing within Eunny as she made her way through the tearoom.

She saw her aunt first and waved to get Yerina’s attention as she walked forward. Yerina quickly stood up, a nervous smile on her face.

“Eunny, thank you for coming. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner,” Yerina said, coming toward her.

“It’s no trouble. What’s up, Auntie? You don’t usually…” Eunny trailed off, her gaze going over her aunt’s shoulder as she noticed the booth was still occupied. She’d know that immaculately twisted updo anywhere.

“Aunt Yerina…” Eunny whispered, exasperation in her tone.

“She wanted to meet with you, but she didn’t think you’d come if she asked you herself,” Yerina said, as if it was a reasonable explanation.

“Well, maybe Mother does know best sometimes, because she’d be right.”

“Eunny,” Yerina said softly, laying a hand on her arm. “She’s come a long way.”

Two visits in as many months—unheard of for Bioon after six years of nothing.

Eunny would’ve been happy to maintain their distance.

But Yerina’s round face was full of silent pleading, of hope and heartbreak for this sad excuse for a family reunion.

Eunny could return her mother’s snubs with vicious pleasure, but disappointing her auntie?

Ensuring that her sigh was audible, Eunny gave her aunt a brief hug before dragging herself the few steps to the booth. She plopped onto the cushioned bench and reached for the teapot in the middle of the table, eyes following Yerina’s retreat to the front of the tearoom.

“Eunji, so kind of you to join me,” Bioon said.

“Making Auntie Yerina do your dirty work? Low, even for you.”

“A sad day when I must stoop to such means because my own daughter can’t be bothered otherwise to see me.” Bioon’s lips curled into a cold smile as she sipped her tea. “How is the elective going?”

“Don’t your superiors get the reports? Or do you have apprentices do the trivial work?”

“I’m asking you,” Bioon said. “You’re an outside observer. A unique perspective, as dear Ollas so nicely put it.”

Hearing his name from her mother’s mouth made Eunny’s skin crawl. “The elective seems fine. The plants are lasting more than a day. Rai and Ollas seem happy with the progress.”

Bioon made a noncommittal noise. A few moments of silence passed as they regarded each other over their tea. Eunny broke it first. Better to get these ridiculous games over and done with than sit here for an hour, going in circles.

“What do you really want?” Eunny asked. “I have things I could be doing back at the school if you’re just going to waste time.”

“You’ve become so crass, daughter.” Bioon’s tone was light, almost playfully reproachful, but her gaze was sharp as ever.

She set the teacup aside. “You’re trained to recognize the value of the product this exploratory class is working on.

Something you should be able to ascertain even without your magic. ”

“Was there a question in that?”

“Are they getting close to having something worth sending to us?”

Eunny scoffed. “You’ve gotten the reports. I know because I saw Ollas write at least two of them.” She pasted a sweet smile onto her face. “You should come to the greenhouse and observe.”

“Perhaps I will,” Bioon said, matching Eunny’s fake smile. “The reports are a condition of the Coalition’s sponsorship—they present the information in a most favorable light. I’m asking you for the unvarnished truth.”

“I’m not a grovetender, remember. Whatever Ollas and Rai have told you is more than I’m going to know. They wouldn’t lie.”

“Omission,” Bioon murmured. “There haven’t been any additions to the elective’s trials? No new seed variants or base materials aside from the original outline?”

Eunny could feel her face screwing up in confusion. “No? My understanding is that asking for two hybrids in one term was already next to impossible. Why do you think they’d add even more?”

Bioon’s shoulders lifted in a dainty shrug. “We’re a month in, with nothing to show for it. Such failure brings priorities into?—”

“A priority aside from helping with the poison? Helping Rhell?” Eunny raised her eyebrows in mild exasperation. “Don’t confuse Sylveren for the Coalition, Mother. We actually have morals.”

For a moment, Bioon said nothing, eyes roving over Eunny’s face. Then she smiled again, a small twist of her mouth that was more smirk than anything else. “It’s my job to ask, Eunji.”

“You know, the Restorers are backing the work done in the elective,” Eunny said. “Maybe you should put some more faith in that.”

Bioon clasped her hands together. “The Coalition protects trade interests, Eunji. We’re not in the business of cultivating unfounded hope.”

“Unfounded?” Incredulity colored her voice. “There’s been real progress made at Sylveren, just in the last year. Since all you care about is money, ever consider the health of trade if you’d all gotten off your asses and?—”

“Progress? Is that what you think they’ve achieved in Rhell?” The disdain in her mother’s voice was so thick Eunny almost thought she could feel it. “One tiny step forward and they’ve hit a wall. Now the Restorers must allocate resources to fix what your progress has wrought.”

“Didn’t stop the Coalition from jumping in for their cut,” Eunny shot back. “If it’s so useless, why bother ‘allocating resources?’”

Bioon scoffed, but Eunny had the measure of her. The Coalition would fuss, but gods all break if the elective was successful and they were left out.

“It’s contained,” Eunny said. “That’s more than anyone’s done since the war started.”

“The first bioremediation class that was supposed to stem from the Rhell Accord was to grow something that could actually rejuvenate the ground. Instead, you are spending an entire academic term on reactionary work. Only in the kindest of readings is this, at best, a lateral move. Many of my colleagues think it a waste.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re in the Valley, where people think responsibly and not with their purse strings,” Eunny spat. “Easy for you to scorn. People are working themselves to the bone here. What’ve you ever done for Graelynd except for bully folk into shit trade agreements?”

“You still think like a child,” Bioon said, dismissing Eunny’s words with a wave of her hand. “A nation as powerful as Graelynd has duties that extend beyond itself. Your precious Valley is alone up here and thinks in those same narrow terms.”

“Didn’t stop your precious Coalition from asking them to host that travesty of a trade delegation.” Bitterness made Eunny’s lip curl. “Didn’t stop them from inserting themselves into the elective.”

“An insertion we’re paying for.” Bioon folded her hands together, giving Eunny a considering look. “Do you think about the delegation?”

“Nope,” Eunny said, popping the ‘p’ just to watch her mother wince. “Why?”

“You don’t recall the trade talks?”

“You mean the private tent talks I was excluded from? I don’t like to think about the worst day of my life, and when I do, I remember that it was your fault I was there.”

“I’m flattered you think I have the power to disrupt negotiations between countries,” Bioon said in a dry tone, “but I didn’t cause your problem with your magic, Eunji.”

Maybe not directly, but Bioon was the one who’d dragged Eunny from her Adept Two studies to accompany her at the delegation.

Claimed a mender’s knowledge and skills would be useful, though Eunny suspected her mother had been more interested in having a young, Sylveren-educated Graelynder along for the optics back home in Central.

Maybe she’d thought having a younger person around would remind people to keep the talks civil.

Either way, it hadn’t worked. Eunny’s presence hadn’t stopped the Eyllics from implementing their hostile takeover, sneaking in a dozen more guards than had been allotted in the delegation’s terms.

“We’re done here,” Eunny said. “Either accept the reports Ollas is sending or, next time, check the greenhouse yourself. Don’t make Auntie Yerina cover for you.”

“Actually, Eunji, I’d appreciate an accounting from you as well.

” Bioon raised a hand when Eunny started to argue.

“I will, of course, continue to defer to Ollas and Professor Rai, but I’m interested in your thoughts as well.

The work that goes into assisting, in your own words.

I’m sure you’re seeing things from a different angle from the regular students. ”

Reflex had a nasty retort on the tip of Eunny’s tongue, a barb about not being at the beck and call of the Coalition or her mother.

A tingle of instinct at the back of her mind gave Eunny pause.

Something about her mother’s intent gaze, the too-casual way in which she’d voiced her request, aroused a tendril of suspicion that Eunny couldn’t immediately place.

She wasn’t as good at playing games as her mother—just one of the consequences of having a heart—but Eunny had been frustrated by the woman and her misdirection enough times that she could recognize some of the tells.

“I’m not going to be around much longer anyway,” Eunny said. “Ollas is about ready to manage on his own.”

She watched the interest drop away from her mother’s face, whatever value Eunny might’ve had diminishing at her statement.

“How wonderful for him.” Bioon slipped from the booth, swishing her cloak about her shoulders.

She looked down at her daughter, an imperious tilt to her head.

It was a familiar look, and Eunny hated that a part of herself was still mesmerized by it—repulsed, yet unable to look away.

There was something coldly beautiful about her mother.

Unfeeling, and the soft pieces that remained in Eunny yearned to know how she managed it.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you’ve fit in so well here.” Bioon spun on her heel and walked away, brushing past Yerina with a shake of her head.

Eunny followed at a slower pace. “That went well,” she deadpanned to her aunt. “I’ll come by again later.”

She trudged back to the school, Bioon’s probing words jangling in her ears.

Her disdain was nothing new, but the veiled questions suggested something else.

Eunny couldn’t remember the last time a conversation with her mother didn’t have at least an element of antagonism, but bringing up the delegation? Asking Eunny to report on Ollas?

Any way she looked at it, Eunny didn’t like what she saw, but she didn’t have anything concrete to validate her suspicions, either.

As she meandered up the path to the Grove, she scanned each of the greenhouse buildings she passed.

A few Adept-levels working in Sapling, but no Ollas.

Eunny turned toward the main tree. Movement in her periphery had her spinning around in time to see Ollas’s back disappearing through the door at Trunk.

Changing course, Eunny followed him.