Page 4 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Finding the apartment Ollas and Gransen shared wasn’t hard, despite Eunny never having seen it before.

Gransen had no shame or sense of oversharing the whereabouts of the apartment he shared with the professor.

She’d heard enough “Don’t be such a prude, Eunny,” and “He’s not my advisor, Eunny,” and “We’re both Adept levels, Eunny,” to no longer have a second thought about said living arrangements.

She paused outside the door, eyeing the brass nameplate marking it as O.

Nevin and G. Mast . This might be another mistake.

There was an obvious discomfort that existed between her and Ollas, even if it mostly lived beneath the surface of their long, casual friendship.

Her being here, half-baked proposition in mind, had a good chance of making everything even more fraught.

But he was talking about dropping out of this special class.

A collab with Professor Rai, which was a rare opportunity for younger faculty like Ollas, according to Zhenya.

Her friend could get intense and hyperbolic about her work, but the only plant nerd Eunny knew to rival Zhen was Ollas.

Which was probably why they were friends. And this was all Eunny’s fault.

She had a plan, and if it was too uncomfortable for him, he could always say no.

Eunny rapped on the door.

“Hang on.” Shuffling steps preceded the door opening. “Sorry, takes me—” Ollas broke off as his eyes snapped to her and went wide with recognition. Wariness.

Eunny froze mid-greeting, her brain stuttering to a halt.

Ollas stood shirtless in the doorway, leaning on a cane.

His torso and one arm were covered in enough bandages to almost replace a shirt.

Almost. Fair skin dusted with freckles peeked out around the medical wraps.

A hint of abs. Definition of shoulder and chest when he tensed at the sight of her, as if gathering to flee.

“Hell-o. Oh. Hi.” Eunny realized she was staring, gaze roving over Ollas like he was a piece of meat despite being clad in bandages.

He wasn’t what one would call bulky, but she’d known he was fit from his ranger work with the Sentinels and being a garden gnome for the university. Still, this was… unexpected.

Ollas flushed.

Get a grip, Eun, what is wrong with you? No ogling your friend who is bruised and bloodied and slow to heal because of you. Eunny forced her mouth closed, lips pressed together in a tight smile. She renewed her small wave. “Sorry to make you get up.” She gestured toward his crutch. “Got a moment?”

“Sure, of course,” Ollas said faintly. Everything about him looked faint, come to think of it, and Eunny’s guilty conscience couldn’t decide if she hoped it was due to his recent blood loss or not. Otherwise, he was dismayed at her mere presence, which wasn’t encouraging.

Eunny walked into the front room. It served triple duty as an entryway, small kitchen, and dining area, with a short hallway off to the side.

A lounge along one wall had been converted into a bed, presumably to save Ollas a few more steps as he recovered.

The sight caused a fresh wave of guilt to squirm around her insides, but it also imparted a shot of resolve.

Ollas lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, dragging his green Sentinels’ cloak on for more cover as Eunny grabbed a chair. “Were you looking for Gransen? He went down?—”

“No, I’ll deal with the gremlin later,” Eunny muttered, and sat, fighting the urge to jiggle her leg. “Ollas. I’m really sorry about what happened. The shop’s been a mess for— If I hadn’t just been standing around like a fucking knob, you wouldn’t have?—”

“Eunny, it isn’t your fault.”

“It is!” Eunny plowed on before he could protest again. “I heard about the special course you have this term, and that you’re worried about it.”

“Who—” Ollas started to ask, then grimaced. “Zhenya.”

“She can’t help herself. You know how she is about classes, you can’t stop her.

” Eunny scoffed, but there was a lightheartedness to the sound.

A smile cracked Ollas’s lips in response.

“Since it’s my fault your position with the— Shush , it is!

Listen, you can’t lose it because of my café crashing down on you. So, I’m offering to help.”

“Help?” Ollas said.

“With whatever you needed two arms and legs for,” Eunny said.

“I can’t ask— I appreciate it, truly, I do. But I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Ollas mumbled. “I’ll have the students to assist with the heavy lifting.”

“I’m offering. Insisting, adamantly. And if it was as simple as having them carry your stuff around during class, you wouldn’t have worried about this to Zhenya.

” She gave him a mock stern look. “I’m not pretending to know anything about plants, but I’m guessing you work a lot more than just during class hours. ”

Ollas remained quiet, his gaze dropping to the edges of the blanket covering his bed.

Eunny sighed. “Can you tell me a bit more about the class? Graduate work?”

“A mix of Initiate Fours and Adept levels,” Ollas said.

“The Restorers are funding a grant so we can try to improve the main plants used in bioremediation efforts. Study cycles of growth and how adjustments at various stages can affect the plants. We’re hoping to improve the seed stock being used in Rhell’s new containment wards. ”

“Seeing as one of my best friends in the whole world is up there fighting the good fight, I’m on board with this plan,” Eunny said.

Six years had passed since the unofficial war with Eylle had been declared over, yet the poison corrupting Rhell, the Valley’s northern neighbor, remained strong as ever.

Anything that helped keep Dae safe had Eunny’s fervent approval.

Though Dae and her lover, Ezzyn Sor’vahl, had seen recent successes in containing the poison, a true cure still remained out of reach.

“You’re more on the growing end?” she asked.

He nodded. “Professor Rai’s side will handle end-use with the plants and spell applications.”

He explained how the plants being used for restoration efforts were finicky.

The elective aimed to hybridize fast-growing plants with slower types that boasted robust ice and heat resistance.

The school had received seeds from several Radiant Isles strains, along with more amendments to try, all to design and grow a new cultivar. In one academic term.

“I take it that’s not much time for something like this?” Eunny said.

Ollas huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s— It’s practically impossible. There are so many variables to record.

We’ll use probes, but they’re not the same as being able to dig your fingers into the soil and observe and document from touch.

We’ll be making minute adjustments at every step of the process.

” His shifted to cradle the side of his face, a frown marring his brow.

“One term isn’t enough time. The successive planting, monitor the watering, make adjustments to the soil. There’s so much trialing?—”

“Sounds like the class really needs you, then. And”—she waved a hand at his injuries—“you need an extra set of hands, and a leg, no magic necessary. I can be that for you.”

“Eunny, I can’t ask?—”

“I’m offering. At this point, I’m basically telling you. I’m doing this.”

“The café?—”

“Isn’t going to be open for a while. I need some time, not just to clean up but to figure out what I’m going to do with it.”

“Gransen can help me,” Ollas said.

“Gransen has his own classes. I’m here. I’m unemployed at the moment, and I’m of able body. Let me help you out.”

When it looked like Ollas would protest again, Eunny winced.

A quiet sigh escaped as she shook her head, eyes meeting his for a moment before she looked down at her hands.

Made loose fists before slowly releasing, palms up, fingers intertwining.

Softly, she said, “Term starts soon. You’d only be ready for it if you could take healing magic. ”

“Eunny…” Ollas fidgeted. “It’s not all on you. I was there?—”

She looked at him again, the corners of her mouth lifting in a sad smile. “I’m the reason you can’t anymore. We both know it.”

Her magic going rogue, breaking away from her, twisting into something volatile and uncontrollable as it misfired straight into Ollas—she’d been warned of the risks in pushing beyond one’s limits, same as every other mender, but she’d never experienced the consequences firsthand.

A dangerous combination of ignorance and arrogance in her mid-twenties had left her convinced that reaching the dregs of her inner well would merely leave her exhausted, sapped of magic until she had a chance to rest. Maybe she’d feel like shit from overextending, sure, but she’d thought her magic would just run out, not go into freefall.

Not go against the very core of what her magical affinity was . Not harm instead of heal .

A costly mistake. A mistake that had broken her trust in magic, in herself and whatever ability she’d thought she had.

But what did trust or confidence matter in the grand scheme of things?

Those were just intangible pieces of emotion that could be shoved into a little box and tossed to the back of her mind.

Broken faith was nothing compared to a broken body.

Damaging Ollas’s ability to absorb healing magic, that was substantial and real and entirely her fault.

It was unforgivable. So, to be the cause of him losing something else…

Eunny would not be the reason again. Not if she could do anything to prevent it.

She straightened, eyebrows lifting as she tried to lighten the mood. “It’s just for a few weeks, right?” She pointed to his bandages. “I can smell the salve from here. Better than nothing, but you won’t be ready by the time term starts.”

“It’ll be so boring for you,” Ollas said, a pleading look in his eyes. “I keep long hours at the start of class, especially one like this.”

“Perfect. I was a champ at all-nighters. Who needs sleep?”

“It’s all repetition, and it’s dirty work,” he tried again. “We’re going to be starting tons of seeds, and most will probably fail, and then we’ll have to restart.”

“Busy work. Sign me up.”

Ollas appeared torn between skepticism and something like hope.

“Great,” Eunny said. “Meet tomorrow for my crash course in all things gardening?”

“At least let me get you listed as a consultant,” Ollas said. “We have some room with the grant.”

She was shaking her head before he finished. “Thanks, but I don’t want a real commitment with the school. I’m supposed to be helping you out, not job-hunting.”

“But the café?—”

“Don’t worry about it.” She got up, flashing a quick smile. “I’ll see if the housing department has something for me. It’ll be easier if you’re not having to send for me down in town.”

Ollas reached for his cane. “I can ask at the desk.”

Eunny waved him back down. “I’ll use your name. Don’t fret.”

“If you’re sure,” he said dubiously.

He might be dubious, but Eunny heard the note of relief in his voice. When she grinned at him, a shy smile spread across his face in return. A real smile, not an I’m humoring you grimace.

After agreeing to meet another day so they could have a mini-orientation, Eunny left.

It was too late for any of the administration offices to be open, but first thing tomorrow, she’d get her name on a list at housing.

She wasn’t thrilled at the idea of living at the school again, but a real bed sure beat Auntie Yerina’s floor.

It was silly, but Eunny fought the urge to skip as she descended the stairs. Sure, guilt was still a leaden mass on her soul, but this felt like progress. A baby step in the right direction. Redistributing her mountain of atonement with a toothpick, perhaps, but now, she was armed for the process.

Eunny made her way toward the main road, passing by the greenhouse at the farthest edge of the Grove’s complex. An overgrown patch of nondescript plants spread alongside the rear corner of the building, their long, strappy, grass-like leaves sprawling across the narrow path.

She walked by, brushing the leaves with her leg?—

“Whoa!” The touch set off a flurry of twitches in her eye, making Eunny stumble sideways. In the gloom of the off-hours lighting, she missed how the stones of the path were slightly elevated above the overgrown plot. Off-balance, she tripped and fell to her knees amidst the grassy clumps.

“Gods all fucking… break.” She gasped as the minute spasms in her eye immediately stilled, replaced by the oddly familiar sense of restlessness that had plagued her all summer.

The pulling sensation revived, emanating from her center.

From the little sphere next to her heart, the inner well where her magic used to dwell.

Except, not used to .

“Oh, shit,” she moaned. “No, no, no.”

Eunny could declare magic was dead to her—and mean it—but saying it was so and making it so, well…

With great, grudging reluctance, she’d have to admit those weren’t the same thing.

Six years ago, magic had betrayed her. In the face of it, Eunny had willfully left the idea of her magic behind, excised all trace of it from her mental being as best she could.

But conflating disuse and death, that was just her own wishful thinking.

The grass-like leaves clung to her hands.

When she tried to shake free, something pulled at her.

The horrible sensation of her magic being dragged from beneath her skin, just like the day she’d lost control.

That same feeling of slipping, careening toward a crash.

And that brief moment of icy clarity right before impact, knowing she couldn’t stop.

Eunny ripped her hand back and staggered onto the path. A trail of golden sparks rippled in her wake and fell to the mounds of grass. The sparks didn’t wink out so much as sink into the leaves, absorbed like water into blotting paper.

“What— What the…?” Eunny stared at her hands, then the plants, head whipping back and forth. Her eye was calm, the imperceptible feelings of restlessness, of being called to, gone quiet. Eunny didn’t dare look inward at the hole that was supposed to be the only remnant of her magic.

Panic rose in her throat as the realization of what had happened struck.

She looked around. No witnesses. Her gaze landed on the clumps of grass sitting there all benign and giving the impression of just being bland foliage.

Eunny hurried away, not stopping until she reached the campus’s main courtyard.

Only then did she pause and glance back in the direction of the greenhouse complex.

The distance and the darkness didn’t matter—the image of the grassy clumps sitting there, as if they were no more than bland foliage, immediately came to Eunny’s mind.

“Never again.” She spat on the ground. “You’re not getting shit from me.”