Page 37 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

Gransen opted to stay behind, not being involved in their project.

Silence loomed heavy and awkward between Ollas and Eunny as they rushed down to the storage greenhouse.

Ollas hated it but didn’t trust himself to break it, not yet.

Not when his thoughts were still twisted up in Eunny’s words.

How she’d yelled at Gransen, been so adamant in her denials.

Her honesty, no less brutal for its truthfulness.

Perhaps it was good for him to hear it, this affirmation that when Eunny looked at him, she couldn’t see past the specter of guilt.

Then again, weren’t they the same in that?

Only, Eunny still didn’t know the whole truth.

Couldn’t, not if she didn’t remember the specifics of that day.

The details surrounding the moment her magic had gone so wrong.

The cause. He’d have to tell her, make her listen instead of letting her wave away his feeble attempts. He’d have to stop being a coward.

But not yet. There were more pressing matters at hand. He cast a quick glance her way and found anxiety mirrored in Eunny’s face before she broke eye contact. The emotions were too raw. Given the crime scene in the greenhouse, stress levels would only get worse over the course of the night.

Professor Rai and Zhenya were already in Trunk, their expressions grim when the others approached.

“I’ve alerted Castle,” Rai said, naming the manager of the greenhouse complex. “No one else knows, and I would like it kept that way. I’ll inform the dean.”

Ollas nodded in acknowledgement. A dull form of numbness crept over him as he stared around the rear antechamber.

The floor was a mess of tipped over glass jars and spilled substrate.

Only one of the jars had broken, but each was empty; not even a broken-off leaf remained of the delegation plants.

The bucket of scraps for the compost piles had been emptied.

The rest of the rack where the jars had been was eerily clean and ordinary compared to the disarray on the ground.

As if the thief had known exactly what to take.

Which made no sense. There were valuable specimens in Trunk.

Not in the tidiest of shape, or ones that would fetch the highest prices compared to what the grovetenders kept elsewhere, but still more valuable than the anonymous plants that had been growing outside for the last six years.

Though Ollas had a gut feeling they were special, he had no proof.

Neither Zhenya nor Rai had detected anything unique or magical about them, and if grovetenders of their caliber could not, then why would anyone else?

“I was coming in to test some different amendments,” Ollas said in a dull tone. “No one was in here. I didn’t pass anyone on the way in.”

Not that he’d been looking especially hard. It was the greenhouse complex; students and staff came and went all the time. The later hour was of no consequence, either, since a full moon approached and Magisters’ experiments were being readied for it.

As far as finding Trunk undisturbed—except for the rear antechamber—that wasn’t so surprising, either.

It was Trunk, the storage greenhouse. While the doors technically locked—as demonstrated by his escapades with Eunny—no one had bothered with locking Trunk for security reasons in years.

There was no need amongst the student body, and besides, it was Sylveren.

Ollas wasn’t na?ve enough to say sabotage never happened on campus, but a theft like this?

“You’re certain no one else knows about your private work?” Rai said.

Ollas felt Eunny glance at him as he shook his head. “I can’t be certain of who all might’ve seen it, but everyone I’ve talked to about it in depth is here.”

“I haven’t heard anyone mention them either,” Zhenya added.

Rai frowned, one long finger tapping against his crossed arms as he thought. “We’ll need to return to keeping the buildings locked at all times. You have your keys?” He gave Ollas and Zhenya questioning looks.

They both nodded.

“Good. I doubt the thieves will return, seeing as they came with single-minded purpose, but we should all be on alert just in case.” Rai shook his head, nostrils flaring with his frustrated sigh. “I’ll speak to the dean about getting the Sentinels involved.”

Rai and Zhenya left in search of the dean and greenhouse manager respectively. Ollas moved to grab a broom, but Eunny’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Ollas,” she said, hesitance in her voice and in the way she slowly raised her eyes to him. “What I said… What you heard, I?—”

He’d been a fool to think their comfort with one another was indicative of something more.

That she could ever want it. That she could ever fall in love with someone like him.

Only lust. But hadn’t he said he was in for whatever she’d give him?

Seeing the shame on her face, the guilt that he’d wanted so badly to erase…

Ollas had never wanted to be the cause for it. Not again, anyway.

He couldn’t take back his foolish choice all those years ago, letting his selfish desire to feel her healing magic override the signs of her exhaustion. Eunny had made it clear that he couldn’t change her mind over her long-held guilt.

But he could do something now, and keep the past from repeating.

Ollas took her face between his hands, leaning down so his forehead pressed against hers as he murmured, “We agreed on no labels, right?” He gave her a shaky smile. “No spoiling the fun. And I think we could use some of that right now.”

Eunny sagged with such visible relief that Ollas wondered if she could hear how those words broke him inside.

It was after midnight by the time Eunny finally stumbled back to her apartment.

She collapsed on her bed, too tired to undress.

They’d cleaned up the mess of the greenhouse and produced a few theories on who would want to steal the plants.

Or who would even know about them. Ollas had his Sentinels contacts to ask, but it made no sense why any of them would invade Trunk.

Eunny rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Tried not to think about how hollow Ollas had been with her. The forced casualness as they’d worked. Not his shy, sweet awkwardness like when they’d first been getting used to each other. No comfortable, familiar silence.

It shouldn’t have bothered her so much. Now he knew how she felt. What her limits were. They were on the same page about the seriousness, or lack thereof, of their casual fun.

Except… it hurt. She had hurt him. Couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t noticed his attraction. She’d enjoyed it. Him. Even if she’d never meant to let any such feelings get that far. Eunny had tried so hard to avoid getting into this mess.

Did you, though? a traitorous voice asked.

All her teasing, flirting with Ollas to see him flush.

Could she really say, from the moment she’d indulged in that kiss, that she’d been trying to avoid something real?

That sleeping with Ollas had been simple, casual sex?

That she hadn’t loved being called his goddess, hadn’t cared about the sentiments precisely because they came from him?

And beyond the carnal, she hadn’t exactly clung to her convictions of distance.

Eunny felt… not quite at home in the Grove, but something closer to peace than she’d ever felt with Song’s Scrap.

She could finally brush her fingers along the edge of her old apothecary work.

Feel a touch of joy again instead of revulsion and anger and guilt.

No, in the end, she hadn’t tried so hard to keep her distance.

Agreeing to stay on for the elective, to help with those damned weeds.

Feeling the spark, as Dae had said. Feeling comfortable enough with Ollas that the beliefs she’d held for so long, couched in fear and doubt, started to soften—only a little, but they had.

She had. With him, Eunny had let her mind start to change.

She exhaled slowly, emotions mixing with exhaustion as her mind tried to wrap itself around these revelations and what they meant.

What she should do. The tumult was such that it took a moment for her to recognize a tug at the edge of her mind.

A hum in the air, beneath her skin, homing in on her center.

The steady pulse of not her heartbeat but something else.

A different thrum of life, insistent, and so familiar when she paid attention.

Eunny sat up, looking at her kitchen counter and the two cuttings she had floating in water.

Eunny huddled outside of Trunk, unable to gain entrance since she wasn’t staff, and waited for Ollas to arrive.

The cuttings were tucked into her cloak’s inner pockets, each snug in a fist-sized jar, roots happily submerged in a watery gel she’d infused with her magic.

The plants exuded a buzzy energy palpable through the thin glass of their containers, as if it could hardly be contained in their, well, skin, or whatever the plant equivalent was.

She rested her head against the greenhouse door, eyes closing.

Sleep had been more illusion than reality.

She’d spent hours reviewing old apothecary notes against the meager knowledge she’d gained thus far in helping with the elective, and nervousness at reaching for her magic again didn’t amount to much rest. Using her magic of her own volition.

Revealing it. Because after tonight, Eunny didn’t know how she’d be able to keep its existence a secret any longer.

The pair of cuttings had responded well to her magic, their innate call building even more. Linking her to them, them to her.