Page 36 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Chapter Twenty

Though their initial growth spurt had been impressive, in the days that followed, the secret delegation cuttings plateaued.

The intangible pull from them was undeniable now, stronger and more pointed in its need.

Whenever she was around the plants, Eunny felt a resonant tug at her center, at her inner sphere.

It was a soundless whisper at her core, asking for her magic.

In response, power hummed beneath her skin, just waiting to be let out.

To be fed into the plants, laced through the living essence within them.

It would’ve been simple, not so different a process to mixing healing remedies and giving the traces of magic in a leaf or a bud a gentle nudge.

The mental motions came back to her with hardly any thought, so engrained were they from years of practice.

Eunny ignored the call. Easy; she’d spent six years learning how to keep such urges at bay.

And though she didn’t indulge Ollas and his greenhouse kink again, to prove an unspoken point between them, she kept the magical urge on a tight leash when they fucked at her place.

It was easier now that she knew what to look for, now that she knew to ignore the spark that wanted to build.

She didn’t let it catch with Ollas’s feather-light magic.

Ignored the reflexive way her magic tried to carry over to the pair of water-rooted cuttings still on her table.

Much to Ollas’s good-natured dismay.

He leaned down to peer at the jars, the plants unchanged despite the bedroom pursuits that had gone on around them. Huffing through his nose, Ollas pulled on his boots and muttered, “Can’t blame me for trying.”

Eunny hooked her arm around his neck and kissed him, scampering away when he tried to grab her waist. She fetched both of their cloaks from where they hung next to her front door. “I’ll walk back with you. Granse wants to talk more about the café.”

“You’re going back to it?” Ollas asked.

She thought she heard in his voice a touch of the same regret she felt at the notion.

“Not yet.” A flutter of warmth spread through her at his visible relief.

“I know he’s ambitious, but it’s still far from seaworthy.

And it kind of should be, if a repair café is going to offer repairs, one would think. ”

They walked back toward the Grove, hoods pulled up against the evening’s chill.

Ollas kissed her goodbye before splitting off toward Trunk, intent on trying to infuse what he could of his earth magic into light-enhanced water for the delegation plants.

Eunny watched his back disappear down the path, her cheeks puffing out in an aggrieved sigh.

She’d have to sneak over later and see if applying her own magic after the fact would still work.

A thought she didn’t enjoy one bit, but needs must. Dae needed the plants.

Rhell needed them. Eunny could just… deal with it.

Give a scrap of her untrustworthy magic when Ollas was safely away, not a drop more than was strictly necessary. Then she’d be done and gone.

The thought of giving more of herself to the plants already left her feeling unsettled. But if she was alone, even if she lost control again, she couldn’t hurt anyone. And no one would know. In the end, that was all that mattered.

Her knuckles had barely touched the wood of Gransen’s door before he whipped it open and ushered her inside.

“Hello, boss.” Gransen’s eyes swept over her, a sly grin creeping across his face. “You look well. Flushed, I daresay. You haven’t seen my erstwhile roomie, have you?”

“Shut up. It’s cold outside.” Eunny tossed her cloak over the back of a kitchen chair before taking a seat. Papers were strewn across the tabletop. “What’s all this?” She spun a sheet around so she could read it. “Tea?”

Gransen shrugged, slouching into a chair across from her. “Just some ideas for a reopening celebration tea. Wanted something with excitement.”

Eunny traced her finger along the scattered list of ingredients and effects. “Good luck finding fizzy hibiscus in bulk this time of year.”

“Have any suggestions?” Gransen asked, rolling a pen beneath his finger.

She frowned in thought, then rattled off a few ideas, adding, “Ask Zhen for her source on purified goldleaf water. Steep with that at just below boiling and you’ll get a nice, uplifting tea.

Doesn’t have the same mouthfeel, but it’ll spark the feeling of joy you’re after.

Just limit how much people can drink. Get too buoyant and people start getting sloppy, you know?

Plus, it’s expensive. We’re not rolling in gold. ”

Gransen had leaned forward, chin resting in his hands as he grinned at her.

“You’re not writing any of this down,” she said.

“Listen to you. Didn’t even question that this was for the café. You’re coming around on it. Love has changed you, boss.”

Oh, Goddess break… “I’m not— No, it?—”

“Eun, come on, you can admit it. You’re doing apothecary speak with basically no prompting. You’re still here even though Olly’s back on his feet.”

“I have a commitment to the class, that’s all,” she protested. Her pulse ticked up, a dull roar starting to build in her ears.

“I’ve seen how you are with him. Warms my little heart to see two of my favorite people together.”

“We’re not,” Eunny said, voice weakening. The roar grew louder. “It’s not serious. It can’t be.”

The glee faded from Gransen’s face. “Are you still on about the forgiveness thing?”

“The for— Yes!” Eunny cried, slamming her hands on the table as she stood. “I’m not in love with Ollas. I’m atoning . I always will be. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

Gransen stared at her, eyes wide with shock.

Her breath came sharp and fast, something like panic rising in her chest. She was so stupid.

Thinking she could traipse around here, keep her guard up.

She’d never thought she’d weaken, forget she couldn’t have this life.

Didn’t deserve it. But it had been too easy to settle in at the Grove, on campus.

An off-hand comment about herbalism, correcting wayward Ennis, she’d thought it was nothing.

She’d never realized how slowly she’d come to be at ease.

How she’d reached out and grabbed hold of some semblance of what her life might’ve been.

Doing apothecary work for the school. Using her skills to aid the fight against the poison in Rhell.

Calling on her magic. She’d done all those things, and somewhere along the way, she’d lost her vigilance. Been lulled into feeling safe .

Somewhere along the way, Eunny had stopped looking at Ollas and feeling guilt.

“Maybe at first,” Gransen said slowly, warily, as if he was afraid she would explode. “But I’ve seen the way you two are together. I know you, both of you. You’re— You’re good. Right.”

Eunny shook her head, denial turning her stomach.

“I look at how you two are and…I want that. Someday,” Gransen murmured, with rare solemnity. “I know this started out of guilt, but you’re really telling me you haven’t developed some feelings?”

Yes, and what a mistake that had been. Weakness on her part, and maybe even cruelty, because she was never going to stay. Couldn’t.

“No,” she said, quiet but steady. “I can’t.”

“He doesn’t blame?—”

“I do.” She looked down at her hands. “When I see him… Until I can do that and not remember how it felt to have my magic tear him apart, there’s no forgiveness. I won’t believe in it.”

Gransen’s mouth opened, but then he just sighed, wilting in defeat.

A soft, hesitant throat-clearing broke through the heavy silence, drawing Eunny and Gransen’s attention to the door. The open door, Ollas framed within it, a flurry of emotion on his face. Shock, and hurt, yet that was too simple a word for what Eunny saw when their eyes met.

“Ollas.” Her voice came out as a whisper. No need to ask how much he’d heard. What did it matter, really, when he’d clearly heard the end?

His expression didn’t quite shutter—Ollas wasn’t capable of that—but she watched him push his disappointment away as he gathered himself to speak. “There’s been a break-in at Trunk.”

“What?” Eunny and Gransen said at once.

Ollas turned away, his arm stiff as he gestured for them to follow. “The delegation plants. They’re all gone.”