Page 31 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

“Keep talking,” she said without looking up. “Just, uh, keep my mind off the fact that I’m wrist-deep in poisoned dirt.”

“Sure. Um.” He fought to keep his voice calm. Level. Unsuspecting. “We did something like this for my Adept Two research.”

He blathered on about cold, wet nights in the mountains.

Meanwhile, his mind whirred over this revelation.

Eunny had her magic, in some amount. He couldn’t be sure if she was using it consciously or if some part of the process drew it from her unbeknownst to Eunny herself.

He didn’t dare to ask. Not with how adamantly she professed to be against using it.

If this was a subconscious awakening of her threads of magic, then he’d need to tread softly. At least until she warmed to the notion of having magic again. Ollas would be at her side regardless.

“Done.” Eunny slapped the rod down with a triumphant look. She closed the glass roof panel on the box. “Is this going to fit on the shelf?”

It took some rearranging, but they managed to create space to hide their secret project away again. She gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks.”

“Eunny…” He started to speak but couldn’t get further than her name. Where to begin? “We should… You?—”

She covered his mouth with her hand. “Not yet. Not no , just not yet . Can’t we just enjoy how things are for a bit before we make decisions?”

Bad idea. Delaying such conversations, not knowing where they really stood? Definitely a bad, bad idea. He was grown enough to know better, but when his mouth opened again, all that came out was, “Sure.”

“Good. Anything else we can do for that?” Eunny nodded with her chin at the terrarium. “Waiting isn’t really my strong suit.”

Ollas rubbed his chin. “Zhenya might be able to help.”

“What’ll ink do?”

“I was thinking more of how she tends to know at least a little about everything botanical,” Ollas said with a short laugh.

“She’s already looked into the similarities with rare blooming varieties, and she’s more familiar with imprinting spells than I am, at least the theory behind the workings.

Not sure how recently that was, but…” He shrugged.

Eunny mimicked the motion. “I’ll see if I can find her.”

He checked the wall clock. “My guess is the library. I’ll go with you.”

“Don’t you have a report due to the Restorers?” Her nose wrinkled. “And my mother.”

He held the door open for her. “It can wait. The second trial’s been lagging this week, anyway. If she doesn’t believe me, she can come out and see for herself.”

The library at Sylveren University was a grand building, all aged wood, though it was comprised of so much glass it was more window than wall.

Large trees flanked the multilevel building, stalwart evergreens rather than the ethereal maple that was the Grove.

Some kind of vine climbed up the front of the building near the main entrance.

It appeared as if the vine had been meant to frame the large double doors as a decorative element—Eunny had a vague recollection of there being pretty, papery flowers as big as her fist during the summer—but now, the vine was nearly leafless for the approaching winter, and it had escaped containment, sending out branches in all directions.

Eunny followed Ollas up to the second level reference desk. His step faltered as they approached the older woman seated there.

“Hello, Ma,” he said. “Have you seen Zhenya around?”

Though the question was spoken cordially enough, there was a note of warning in his tone.

“Olly! I wasn’t ex—” Terryl Nevin looked up, her eyes widening with delight when she noticed— “Eunny! What are you doing here?”

“Zhenya, Ma. Looking for Zhenya,” Ollas said, stooping down to kiss his mother’s cheek. The family resemblance was strong, from their dark curls to their full faces, though Terryl’s hair was more gray than brown, now, and her cheeks hollowed with age. But they had the same smile, the same laugh.

There was something endearing about the picture they made, but it carried with it a sense of melancholy, too, and Eunny couldn’t have said why.

“Stacks, red corner. Something about murals.” Terryl smiled at Eunny. “I haven’t seen you up in these parts in ages.”

True. Eunny hadn’t set foot in the library since her Initiate-level days.

She’d done some repair work for different sections, but the materials came to her, usually by way of Zhenya.

Still, Terryl herself was hardly a stranger, being Auntie Yerina’s best friend and all.

Eunny had known the woman since she was a kid, and saw her often enough down at the Mighty Leaf.

Back when open crafting nights had still been regular events at the café, Terryl had regularly attended and helped with any sewing questions.

A pang that was more guilt than sadness hit Eunny as she ducked her head. “Guess schooling wasn’t quite done with me yet.” She nudged Ollas. “He’s a terrible influence. Good teacher, though.”

Ollas’s ears went red. “We’re going to find Zhen.”

Eunny waved. “It was good to see you, Terryl.”

“Come by any time, dear.”

Leaving a grinning Terryl at her desk, they trotted off to the red corner and found Zhenya seated on the top rung of a ladder as she scribbled away in a notebook.

“I’m no expert, but this can’t be safe,” Eunny remarked.

“What are you doing here?” Zhenya stowed her pen and climbed down with exaggerated care.

“Looking for you. Is there, uh, some place”—Eunny glanced around—“a little more private?”

Zhenya led them to one of the empty study rooms, closing the door behind them and activating the noise ward. “Is this about your propagation experiment in Trunk?”

Eunny and Ollas exchanged looks. “You explain,” Eunny said.

Ollas complied, filling in the gaps in what Zhenya already knew—or had surmised on her own from poking around their not-so-hidden tray in the storage greenhouse.

Eunny supplemented his commentary as needed, admitting that her magic might well have poured out and triggered a hidden imprinting spell, if one existed in the seeds Ollas had found.

She avoided mentioning that her gift was still very much present and had been fed into the delegation plants, even if in small amounts.

She left the effusive comments on the nascent pull of the plants to Ollas.

Neither brought up how their sleeping together might’ve been the catalyst for Eunny’s cuttings’ dramatic growth.

“You’ve done more with imprinted spellwork than me,” Ollas said. “Does any of this sound familiar?”

“I was doing work on imbued iconography,” Zhenya said. “Which is sort of related, because the inks with highest water resistance originated in the north. The methods do, at any rate.”

“What does water resistance have to do with the delegation plants?” Eunny asked.

“Nothing. The methods. Seeds were imbued with different magics to try and influence the resulting plants with those qualities.” Zhenya flipped back a dozen pages in her overstuffed notebook, scanning the contents with an ink-stained finger.

She stopped, tapping a line. “The imbuing process, the sequence, it’s usually done in stages. Each requires… magic.”

“Magic,” Eunny repeated, slowly.

Zhenya nodded. “From what I’ve read, and there’s not much, so this is barely more than conjecture, but these imprinting sequences are a safeguard. A means to keep different properties separate, but also secure. Linked to the mage. Or mages, in your case.”

“What are— I’m not an academic, Zhen. Simple words. Explain it like I’m five.”

Her eyes drifted upward in thought. “I think the seeds imprinted on you. Like baby ducks. It’s possible they had previously been spelled to require earth and light magic to grow, and when your, um, accident happened, you unintentionally triggered that spell.”

“Okay,” Eunny said weakly. “So, the plants are imprinted on us. Like ducks. Great. What does that mean?”

“Your magic bonded to the natural bit of life in each seed. But like I said, there are stages. That stored life doesn’t last forever, imbued or not. You said one of your divisions died in a weird way?”

Eunny snuck a glance at Ollas. His brow was furrowed in thought, and he nodded, murmuring, “Like it had dried out. Lack of magic, instead of water?”

Zhenya nodded. “It makes the most sense. It sounds like you’ve woken the next stage of the imprinting sequence, the blooming period.”

“Only we haven’t gotten any of them to bloom,” Eunny said.

Zhenya gave a small shrug. “They’re going to need more magic. Presumably yours, Eunny, though I guess it’s possible another source of light magic could take them over. Like calls to like, in most cases.”

“Goddess fucking break,” Eunny muttered. She’d already had a suspicion, but Zhenya’s confirmation didn’t make her feel better for being proven right.

“Hard to say how long they’ll stay in the blooming phase since we don’t know what they are, but it won’t wait forever,” Zhenya said, worry on her face. “Sorry. I wish I had better news.”

Eunny forced a smile. “Not your fault. You’ve been a lot of help—I mean it. Thanks, Zhen.”

Leaving their friend to her research, Eunny and Ollas trudged back to the reference desk. Terryl was still there and beckoned them closer.

“Olly, there’s been some questions about a paper for your Initiate One class,” Terryl said. “Could you pop over and make sure Jiasi has what she needs?”

Eunny paused by the chair opposite the desk. “Is it the elective? Should I go help?”

“No, no, sit.” Terryl leaned closer, her voice lowering despite their relative privacy as Ollas went to the opposite end of the room. “I want to thank you, Eunny dear, for helping out my Ollas like you did. That elective is so important to him.”

“It was the least I could do. My roof fell on him.”

Terryl dismissed Eunny’s attempt at modesty with a toss of her head. “Nonsense. You don’t make buildings collapse, and you put your café on hold for his work. I won’t forget that, and Olly won’t, either.”

“It was no trouble,” Eunny said, embarrassed. “I’m happy to help. The students really do seem to love him.”

Terryl chuckled. “They do, and he loves it here. He’s been quite happy lately.”

Discomfort of an entirely different sort had Eunny blushing and stammering out, “That’s—that’s, well, y-you know…”

Terryl winked at her. “He’s always been smitten with you, dear.

” Some of her mirth dimmed, replaced by sympathy.

“He never felt right about how the delegation was handled, not for you or for him. Homegrown Hero. I’m glad my boy finally got some proper respect, but the way city folk were acting around here…

” Terryl muttered to herself, gaze unfocused.

She shook her head, attention back on Eunny.

“Your coming here was a good thing. Never seen your auntie happier, aside from when she first took up with Dex.”

“Thanks.” Eunny managed a smile and stood. “I’ve got to run an errand. Idea from Zhen. Could you tell Ollas I’ll see him in class tomorrow?”

At Terryl’s bemused nod, Eunny fled. Luck was with her, and she didn’t run into Ollas on her way to the door, escaping out into the rain.

Instead of following the path back to Belle, Eunny took the side road that led down to Sylvanor Lake. The vast body of water was dark and choppy from the wind and rain, its surface a mirror for the emotions roiling beneath her skin.

Ollas had been nursing a crush on her since boyhood and had finally seen it to fruition.

His mother had thanked her for it. Thanked Eunny for making her son so happy.

Because Ollas liked her. Found joy in being with her, despite all the bad her presence in his life had wrought. Wanted to save her after all.

The worst part was, he had.

Eunny bit her lip, as if the pain would make the tumult in her head become sense. Ollas had picked up on the undercurrent of anger and disillusionment and sadness she carried, and, whether wittingly or not, he’d had the impulse to fix it. To make it all better.

He couldn’t soothe that which she had nurtured herself.

Couldn’t simply erase the guilt she felt—at hurting him, at losing control of her magic.

Being a danger. No one like that should be allowed back into the magical community.

She didn’t want back into it. The bit of fun she was having with Ollas wasn’t supposed to be serious.

It was just a fling. She’d always intended for him to be a casual lover.

Yet, now that she had to enforce those feelings on herself, where was her conviction?

Eunny was never supposed to start caring about things again. Not deeply. When faced with the quiet revelations about Ollas and his feelings, the way he offered them to her so freely, she was filled with guilt. She didn’t deserve his goodness, not when she’d broken him.

Where was her old anger, her hate? That had always made it easy to rebuke the shreds of longing, of weakness, when they’d tried to grow larger in the past. It had kept her content whenever she looked out her café’s window to the world beyond and seen a different life than what she’d envisioned.

She had buried any sense of attachment—to anything—long ago.

He’s good for you, Eunji.

She glared out at the water, waves crashing at her feet.

The lake was usually a calming presence, putting her mind at ease if it couldn’t provide outright answers.

Being on its shores usually made her feel better.

Lighter. Eunny was neither a wind nor a water mage, but she thought she felt a ghost of the latent power around her.

The crackle in the air, mist hitting her face.

All of it wanted to resonate with her light.

She held her hand in front of her, palm up, and watched as raindrops pattered off her skin. It would only take a single spot of light, a mere whisper of her magic, to feel the connection with this place. To feel the Valley’s claim resonate with the sphere of magic at her core.

No . Eunny clenched her hand into a fist and dropped her arm back to her side.

Magic was no good to her. Magic had shown she was not good, only dangerous.

If she could slip up so badly once, what was to stop it from happening again?

She couldn’t. Couldn’t reach out to it as if nothing had happened.

Usually, she didn’t have trouble remembering that part.

Ollas made her forget. Almost.

But she couldn’t forget. She’d just have to remind him this was a dalliance, nothing more. Fun, yes, but ultimately meaningless. Soon enough, she’d be gone again, back to her repair café. Back to a life where she wasn’t tempted to forgive her magic.

Ollas eroded those barriers of self-control, and because of that, Eunny knew they could never last.