Page 21 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

The only saving grace, double-edged as it was, lay in the strange fact that the poison was specifically tailored to seek the magic wellspring in Rhell.

While the elective struggled to test their growing mixes in contaminated earth that went sterile once it passed into the Valley, the same reaction could be used in the favor of poisoned bodies as well as dirt.

If caught in time, at any rate. Even the protections of the Valley had limits.

Regardless, whatever fueled the poison, it cared only to destroy Rhell. For now, anyway.

But for Dae to need a refresher in the Valley after only a few months in Rhell?

Eunny didn’t like the sound of it. Even if Ezzyn was being overprotective—which was a distinct possibility considering how his middle brother, Garethe, was chronically ill merely from proximity to the poison, and Ezzyn wasn’t taking any chances with Dae—that meant something.

They were shown into a room toward the back of the Healing Hut.

Dae insisted that Eunny and Ezzyn be allowed in as well, despite the disapproving look from the aide escorting them.

Ezzyn spoke quietly to the aide outside the door, showing them a letter he’d carried in his cloak pocket.

The aide nodded once and departed, returning in what had to be record time with none other than the Chief Mender.

“I thought you said it wasn’t serious,” Eunny muttered, nudging Dae.

“It isn’t, Miss Song,” Chief Hakan said. “And we’re going to ensure it stays that way.”

A reflexive “Yes, sir,” was out of her mouth before Eunny could stop it.

She hid her disgruntlement by looking down, listening intently as the chief explained the multi-pronged healing he would work.

She was several years past her student days, and even back then, she’d only had sporadic interactions with the Chief Mender.

Apothecary-track didn’t overlap much with someone of his standing, and especially not at the lower levels.

That he’d somehow managed to remember her name should’ve been a crime.

Chief Hakan flicked clear the tails of his mender’s jacket—ivory bordered in gold to denote his status—as he sat on a stool next to Dae.

He took her hand between his own, her light brown skin pale in contrast to his golden brown.

The chief took a measured breath in, held it for a beat as his magic surged, and exhaled at the same unhurried pace.

Golden light flared between his palms, flowing into Dae as his head bent toward her.

Dae, eyes closed, bowed her head as well.

Eunny crossed her arms, hands turning to fists as her magic woke in the presence of its own kind. It hummed in her veins like a sympathetic string, a quiet vibration in her blood. She ignored it, picturing herself as stone.

The healing session was over in the blink of an eye, Chief Hakan releasing Dae’s hand and standing in one smooth motion.

He went to the small counter at the back of the room and took down a cup and a few small jars.

Using a set of silver menders’ measuring spoons, he portioned out varying amounts of different powders from the jars along with a few sparks of his own magic for each addition.

Eunny’s hands itched with the impulse to check his ratios, even though she knew the Chief Mender had dual Master levels for light magic, both in mending.

Full track for body magic, and the research levels for herbalism.

Had graduated with distinction, just to cement himself as the most overqualified Chief Mender in the history of Sylveren University, or some such nonsense.

The man had probably forgotten more than she’d ever know about apothecary work.

Didn’t stop her from craning her neck around to try and catch the labels on the jars.

“Professional interest, Miss Song?” the Chief Mender asked, his tone dryly amused.

“Nope, not anymore. Just stretching my neck.” Wood-smoked sundew powder, some kind of mountain lettuce, and she couldn’t see the farthest jar before he stored them away again.

All good choices. Maybe not exactly what Eunny would’ve put together, but not objectionable.

Not that she was thinking about going into apothecary work again.

Stopping Ennis from turning their stomach to lead had been a one-time thing.

Chief Hakan brought the cup to Dae, offering it to her along with a small stirring rod.

“Your magic will help the mending set, but I can ask one of the aides for a glass of water if you need.” He glanced at Eunny before focusing on Dae.

“I’ve strengthened the tissue in your lungs, but this should provide more fortification. ”

Dae accepted the cup with a murmur of thanks. She glanced at Ezzyn. “Could you open the window, please?”

He complied, revealing the gray skies and misty rain that had begun falling while they were inside.

Dae made a beckoning motion, summoning a thin stream of moisture to form around her fingers before she directed it into the cup.

A few stirs dissolved the powder, leaving behind a dark, greenish-brown liquid. Dae gave it a sniff and grimaced.

“Drink the whole thing, please.” Chief Hakan motioned to Ezzyn. “I need to confer with Mr. Sor’vahl. Miss Song, I presume you remember standard protocol?”

Eunny flapped a hand at him. “Monitor her for a bit in case of adverse effects. I got it.”

“I’m going to check in with Gaz, too, if I can find him,” Ezzyn said. “I’ll meet up with you?—”

“At the greenhouse complex,” Eunny interrupted. “I want to give Dae a tour later.”

“Perfect. I need to make arrangements with the groundskeeper about soil samples, too.”

Once Ezzyn and Chief Hakan had left and the door closed behind them, Dae’s head whipped toward Eunny. “The greenhouse complex? Do tell.”

“Says she who didn’t mention a peep about this in her last letter,” Eunny groused. She went to shut the window, resuming the privacy charm enchanted into each of the Healing Hut’s rooms. “Since when does a prince of Rhell do dirt delivery?”

“It’s for samples from the containment zones.

Ez has been working with the glassblower guild on new shielding spells.

Hopefully, we’ll get the next batch to last several days.

As for the letter”—a guilty smile flashed across Dae’s face as she ducked her head in contrition—“I didn’t want you to worry! Ez is overreacting.”

Eunny dropped onto the Chief Mender’s vacated stool. “Is he, though? Why’re you getting personally treated by the chief if it’s nothing serious?”

Dae choked down more of her medicinal brew.

“It really isn’t. Certainly not if it meant having to drink this, Great Wave drown me.

” She took another sip, meeting Eunny’s skeptical gaze, and sighed.

“The poison is getting stronger within containment zones. The wards are working, but it’s like the poison is more…

concentrated. The symptoms are unchanged, but it all hits faster now. ”

“Lovely,” Eunny muttered. “Guess the secrecy makes sense.”

“Tell me about you. The greenhouse? You didn’t mention any of that in your last letter either, Lady Hypocrite.” Dae pointed an accusing finger. “All you said was that the café needed some repairs.”

“And that’s the truth!”

“We rode past it on the way in, Eun. You never said it collapsed .” Dae glowered at her. “What happened? Tell me everything and take my mind off the taste of this swill.”

It was Eunny’s turn to shrink inward. In stops and starts, she recounted the last day of Song’s Scrap, of Ollas’s injury and her own guilt. She cringed over the tale of her living situation, and softly admitted how she liked the Grove and assisting with Ollas’s work.

“Are you thinking about bringing back some apothecary work?” Dae asked carefully, glancing back toward the cabinet where the Chief Mender had stored the jars.

“No. I don’t know. Not really?” Eunny ran her fingers through her hair. “There’s this side project Nev has been working on...”

Dae was quiet for a moment. “Oh? Nev ?”

“Yea.” Eunny made a face at her friend. “You’ve heard me—I’ve been calling him that since we were kids!”

Dae set the now-empty cup aside. “I don’t recall that at all.” She scooted forward on the examination chair. “Anyway, you were saying? You and Nev?”

“There are these plants—he grew them from seed stock the Sentinels found during the delegation mess. There’s something about them.

I think they might...” Eunny hesitated. She loved Dae, trusted her, but she’d been selling the story about having lost her magic for so long.

Even to one of her best friends, she didn’t know how to go about undoing years of lies. Easier to just add another to the pile.

“It’ll be faster if I just show you.” Eunny got to her feet. “It’s been long enough. I’ll vouch for your leaving.”

They headed back down the road, cloak hoods pulled up against the light rain.

“Did you hear that my father formally stepped back from his director role at Helm Naval?” Dae asked. “Calya’s already plotting her final takeover.”

Dae’s father had stubbornly held on to his title at the maritime trading company he’d built, Helm Naval Engineering, despite having moved on to a political position in Graelynd’s minor council. A move—or lack of one—that had caused a growing amount of friction with his youngest daughter.

“Gods all help anyone who stands in her way,” Eunny said.

“She’s finalizing a new trade deal with Renstown. If you need anything from Central sent by a faster boat, just ask.”

“Think she can cut out the Coalition?”

Dae laughed. “No harm in asking. I’m pretty sure Caly thrives on adversity.”

Their talk turned to Eunny’s attempts at playing grovetender. Dae wasn’t surprised by the Restorers of the Alliance being involved with a class at Sylveren, and muttered darkly about the Coalition sponsorship. The timeframe elicited an eyeroll.

“One term! For a new hybrid? Even with accelerated growth boosters, that sounds more like politics and business than anything with a mind for research . One term ,” Dae muttered. “I’ll bet the Coalition is behind pushing that kind of deadline. Ridiculous.”

“You sound like N—Ollas.” Eunny chuckled. “Though I think he secretly likes the challenge.”

Dae gave her a sidelong glance. “You two seem to have gotten close.”

“I’m his peon. Not for much longer, anyway. He doesn’t really need my help anymore.” Eunny’s smile faltered, but she hitched it back into place when Dae continued to eye her.

“Do you want to stay?” Dae asked.

“Hard to make an excuse when he can haul his own dirt.”

“I’m not talking about objectivity.” Dae’s tone became too innocent as she asked, “Does he want you to stay?”

Eunny stopped in the middle of the road. “Meaning?”

Dae tugged her back to walking. “You know, he always had a bit of a crush on you. Who wouldn’t? I think half the town was in awe of you when you started coming up here to visit.”

“Ollas doesn’t— He’s not— We’re friends.”

“And friendship is a beautiful thing. But I’ll note that you don’t seem entirely opposed to the idea.”

“Still getting over the shock,” Eunny grumped. “Aren’t you nosy today?”

“As if you weren’t ten times worse when I first started up with Ezzyn.”

“It’s not the same! I think the enthusiastically consensual hopping into bed made it clear you two were sharing the same brain. It was the eyeballs that were lacking.”

Dae laughed, giving Eunny a playful shove. “You’re terrible.” She peered at Eunny, a wheedling note in her voice as she said, “Are you really telling me there’s been nothing? No spark?”

“Not…” The memory of shirtless Ollas answering his door rose up in Eunny’s head.

Of nicely defined shoulders, light skin dusted with freckles.

Gods, his freckles. How easy it was to make him flush.

Then there was the pleased, possessive warmth that was always trying to spread through her belly. “Not that I can?—”

“There is! You do have a spark.”

Eunny remembered waking up and being covered by his blanket. She’d felt a pang of regret at waking up alone. She remembered all of it with a level of detail that meant something, and her willful ignorance was running out.

“Why do you look less than happy about this?” Dae asked. “I know he’s not your usual type, but?—”

“I don’t have a type. And it’s not a spark, it’s just nerves and pent-up, you know”—Eunny gestured at nothing—“whatever.”

Dae raised her eyebrows. “Sure, but if it was just some pent-up whatever , you could’ve hopped a boat to Renstown and had that friend of yours take care of it.”

“Can’t. He and the harbormaster’s son finally committed.” Eunny shrugged.

“Okay, fine, then you could’ve picked someone else. My point is, you didn’t.”

“Maybe my bag of flings is just empty.”

“Sylvan is small, but it’s not that small. And you’ve got the school, ships coming in regularly at the port. If you just needed to blow off steam, you could’ve. You didn’t,” Dae said. “Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“I’ll let you know,” Eunny muttered.

“You do that.”

They spent the next hour at the greenhouse, Eunny leading Dae on a tour of the elective’s hybridization attempts and then back to the secret propagation attempt in Trunk.

That Dae didn’t feel anything beyond the ordinary with the plants, no pull or hint of arcane energy, left Eunny disquieted, though she tried not to show it.

If the resonance wasn’t attuned solely to magic, then what?

Maybe she could drag in one of the Initiate One students with an affinity for light magic and see if they reacted.

“Are they for restoration work?” Dae asked.

“We’re not sure,” Eunny replied. Seeing Ezzyn walking up the path, deep in conversation with the greenhouse complex manager, she stuck the pot onto its shelf and ushered Dae back into the greenhouse’s main room. “At this point, they’re practically weeds.”

Eunny glanced back at the secret pots. Her negligent slip-up with her magic hadn’t changed the plant, but the intangible pull remained. It waited, a steady hum in the back of her mind, wanting more.

Before she could change her mind, she went back into the antechamber and snatched up the pot to send home with Dae.

She and Ollas could always pot up a replacement—it wasn’t like they were going to run out when they had an entire bed full of the things.

Maybe the mages in Rhell would have more success.

Or maybe Ollas was on to something and the plants were somehow attuned to him—and Eunny.

Only one way to find out.