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

Chapter Two

Ollas paused outside of Song’s Scrap so he could shake the accumulated rainwater from his cloak’s hood.

In his thirty years of Valley living, he’d become well-acquainted with the region’s penchant for liquid sunshine, but this was excessive even for a born-and-raised Sylvan boy.

The waxed leather of his boots, imbued with magic for extra waterproofing, was starting to fail.

Ollas made a mental note to swing by the Sylveren University’s student-run mercantile to pick up some more shoe wax.

He peered through the window to survey the main room. Empty, though it was hard to tell with all the clutter. “Hello?” he called over the jingle of a bell attached to the door. “Eunny?”

Ollas walked to the counter to wait. One of the lamps outside the front door flickered, the illumination charm worked into the glass losing its personal battle with the rain.

Maybe Gransen hadn’t been exaggerating about the state of the repair café.

Ollas’s roommate was something of the de facto manager to the place and had gotten himself temporarily banished for bickering with Eunny one time too many about the deteriorating conditions.

So Ollas had volunteered to retrieve the repair order for the Grove, the university’s earth magic wing.

That it provided him an opportunity to speak with Eunny in relative privacy was purely coincidental.

A nice perk. Gransen hadn’t really been fooled, but he’d let Ollas trot off without comment.

For a moment, Ollas let his eyes close as he took a steadying breath.

Something hummed beneath his skin, a soft little buzz, so faint he had to look for it to notice most of the time.

It had been growing ever since he’d come back to the Valley at the beginning of summer.

It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was strange.

Perhaps the feeling was commonplace for those with a strong affinity for the arcane.

But for someone who barely had enough magic to be considered above a mundane, it stood out.

Maybe the feeling wasn’t related to magic at all but lingering stress?

He’d decided to resume his role as a horticulture professor at Sylveren University instead of pursuing more graduate work.

It was a choice he didn’t regret, but timing meant he’d been rushing around for the last month, making all his final arrangements.

The fall term was only a couple weeks away and promised to keep him busy with an Initiate One core class and joint-teaching an upper-level elective with his mentor.

Finally, Ollas had stability, a chance to stay in one place instead of shuttling back and forth every few months.

And it meant he’d have time to reconnect with friends here in town.

With one, in particular. Make amends, if necessary.

Because he wanted Eunny Song to be able to say his name and not automatically think of the worst day of her life.

He wanted—needed—her forgiveness for his part in it.

For the sake of a friendship gone brittle at the edges.

He’d run off and hoped being away for the last six years with the Valley’s mountains between them would smooth the roughness from their interactions.

The debacle at the Mighty Leaf’s summer solstice party two months ago had proved that time and distance was just wishful thinking.

“I’m here, I’m here!” The sound of boots thumping down the stairs preceded the back door of the café opening and Eunny rushing in. “Sorry, I don’t have the whole?—”

She stopped a few paces from the counter, eyes widening as she took in his drippy appearance.

“Hi.” Ollas’s hand twitched with a feeble wave. “I’m here for the Grove’s order?”

“Oh, right, yeah. It’s over here. Sorry for the mess.” Eunny motioned for him to follow her to a different area of the café.

Ollas trailed after her, nerves making his hands twitch.

It was strange yet comforting how Eunny didn’t acknowledge the passage of time.

Whether it was mere days or upwards of six months, whenever he’d made it back to town during his Adept Two graduate studies and their paths crossed, she’d carried on as if there’d never been a break.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have struck him as odd, seeing as they’d known each other since they were kids, back when she’d only visited her aunt for the summers.

Absences were the norm for them. And Ollas, he was pretty sure he’d been in some kind of love with her since his tweens.

A feeling that couldn’t be mutual, not with the way she froze upon seeing him—just for a moment, and then she was back to her usual breezy self.

If only he could pretend at normalcy half so well.

Eunny reached for a box of repaired items and lifted it onto the nearest tabletop. “My apologies to the Grove folks. I’ll finish the rest of the order as quick as I can.”

“It’s no trouble. Let me help.” Ollas came forward, eyes meeting hers for the space of a breath before he flushed and looked at the box instead.

“I got it, Nev.” Eunny elbowed him, an exasperated laugh taking the bite out of her words. “Could you grab the work order there?” She nodded with her chin toward a paper, one of many, on the end of the counter.

Ollas scanned the offerings, careful to pull back his wet sleeve. He held up a page, bringing it over at Eunny’s nod.

“I think I’ve marked what’s done and what’s still pending, but let me check again before you leave,” Eunny said as she started pulling out the completed items.

Same old Eunny. Moving on as if nothing had happened.

As if she’d seen him yesterday, not back at the start of summer.

Except for that moment when she’d first realized it was him at the door.

That pause, the indecision. Because they could act like everything was fine, but they both remembered.

Not just the summer solstice party and some nosy tourists, but the cause of said prying curiosity.

The failed trade delegation that had seen Eunny held captive.

The messy rescue. Eunny’s magic, its featherlight touch that he barely remembered.

And then...everything that had come after.

Ollas never wanted to become one of the people who badgered her about losing her magic, but when it came to them, that, he could try to fix.

“I never got to?—”

“Listen, about what I?—”

They both stopped, stared at each other. Waited a beat, then started to speak again at the same time.

Eunny put out her hand to stop him. “Pause. Let me say this. About the summer release at the Mighty Leaf. I owe you an apology.”

Ollas clamped his lips together, holding back the words burning on his tongue. You don’t owe me anything. Those guys—I should’ve shut them up. My fault, not yours. It’s no one’s fucking business what happened that day.

Eunny grimaced, a hint of pink tingeing her golden-brown skin. Eunny. Blushing. At him. “I said some?—”

She was cut off. The loud groan of breaking wood split the air.

The floor beneath their feet was shifting, vibrating, as the walls and roof shook.

Eunny dropped the tray she was holding, stumbling back a step before Ollas caught her by the arm.

He grabbed the countertop for support as horrid sounds of tearing, sliding, and crumpling filled his ears. The whole building shuddered.

Gods all break. He’d heard of such land shakes, but those disasters didn’t occur in the Valley.

On the southern coast, perhaps, but not here.

He’d seen landslides during his studies in the mountains, and the Valley had some floods.

But what did one do when the building threatened to tumble around you?

Get out.

He didn’t think beyond that simple imperative.

He slung an arm around Eunny’s middle and heaved them both toward the back door.

Their exit was marred by the wall buckling, displacing the furnishings below.

Something long and firm struck him. A plank, maybe?

A stool? Whatever it was, it had much less give than the back of his legs.

As it knocked him down, pain lanced across his shoulder, his side, above one of his knees, then bloomed into something more as he managed to stagger upright and drag Eunny into the tiny rear courtyard.

A rush of air licked their backs as the ceiling caved in, a shower of wood and pieces of cheap shingle raining to the ground.

As abruptly as it had started, the shaking stopped. The noise continued, crashes echoing off the courtyard stones before fading.

The corner of the loft had collapsed near the front door, twisting the roof to let in the rain.

Almost neatly down the middle, Song’s Scrap had fallen into a heap.

The temporary construction, weakened by the Valley’s unrelenting rain and numerous spots badly in need of repairs, had finally lost its fight to remain standing.

Not a land shake at all, then; only time and rot.

Where the café had been attached to the Mighty Leaf, the damaged wall and the stairway to the loft had pulled away, half of it now hanging askew.

“Oh, gods all…Fuck,” Eunny said, one hand going to her mouth.

The beaten metal sign announcing “Song’s Scrap” fell as if in slow motion, one end breaking from its hanger to wobble at a sharp angle. It swung back and forth, the metallic creaking loud in the eerie silence of the collapsed building.

With his adrenaline already retreating beneath the fire spreading across his body, Ollas groaned. “Are you—Are you hurt?”

“I-I don’t know. What just…?” Eunny turned to him, her eyes widening. “Oh, shit, Nev, you’re hurt!”

Her hand twitched, as if the response was automatic even after so much time. She reached toward his wound without thinking, because that’s what menders did, right? If there was pain around, it was their imperative to ease it, no matter the personal cost.

Ollas wouldn’t let her make that mistake again. Wouldn’t encourage it.

“Don’t.” His hand closed over hers, nudging it away. “It’s not?—”

Eunny stared at him, brown eyes wide and intent, yet she seemed to be looking through him rather than at him. Remembering a moment so similar despite the difference in time. She blinked, gaze dropping to where his hand guided her away from his leg.

“Oh.” Eunny recoiled. Just as she had six years ago. “Oh, of course. I… Ollas, gods. I’m sorry. Old habits.”

Ollas bit back a curse and made a half-hearted motion toward her, his fingers hesitating in the air as she flinched away. “Eunny, it’s not?—”

A dark, choked laugh escaped her as she held up her palms. “Don’t worry, I lost it, remember? You’re safe from me.”

“Eunny?” Her aunt’s voice cut through the air, a note of panic turning it shrill.

“Back here! We need help.” Eunny helped Ollas to ease his legs straight along the ground.

He chanced a look down and grimaced; a tear along one trouser leg showed pale skin marred with more red.

His sleeve was wet, sodden in a way that couldn’t be blamed on the rain.

And it hurt, Earthen take him, everything hurt ever more as awareness trickled in.

Eunny’s aunt, Yerina Song-Burl, and several patrons of the Mighty Leaf rushed toward them, alarm on everyone’s faces. As they bustled around him, Eunny faded into the background, and whatever hope Ollas had had at conveying his true intentions was lost.

Someone brushed against the sign for Song’s Scrap as they passed. The motion caught Ollas’s eye as his surroundings took on a fuzzy quality. It swayed back and forth, the hanger sagging downward. With a final snap, the sign broke free and crashed to the ground.