Page 40 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Coming back to Sylveren had been a mistake.

Eunny had known it would be, but she’d done it anyway.

Gave in for the creature comforts of a short walk and a chance to live in the Grove.

To feel like she belonged. She’d escaped the everyday drudgery of slogging through her café full of junk, but in doing so had let herself forget that she’d surrounded herself with the mundane for a reason.

She had thrown caution aside despite her better judgment.

Been tempted by Ollas with his shy, earnest awkwardness.

Let herself be charmed. She’d chased after the notion of some spark they might have together and convinced herself it would be okay if it wasn’t meant to last.

Eunny blew past the university’s outer gate and stomped toward town.

It was raining again, harder this time than the mist that had pervaded the Valley the last few days.

The rain had been the start of all of this.

If the weather had been fairer, Song’s Scrap wouldn’t have collapsed.

Ollas wouldn’t have been hurt. She wouldn’t have gone begging him to let her help , and she’d never have fallen in that godsdamned patch of grass, would never have accidentally fed it some of her magic and triggered the fucking imprinting spell and gotten sucked into this. Fucking. Mess.

Still, the rain gave her an excuse to huddle in the depths of her cloak and refuse eye contact with the few travelers she passed, and she welcomed it.

A part of her knew that she was being irrational.

That she was scared, and had been for a long time.

It’d been nice to let some of that fear go, if only for a little while.

But she couldn’t afford such lapses. Fear was like pain, meant to be felt for a reason.

Ignoring put not only her at peril but Ollas, too.

Maybe the burn on his hand had come from the dirt, as he’d said.

Or maybe it was because of her. Because she’d lost control, or because she’d panicked.

Either way, Eunny was the cause. His denial was nothing more than another kind-hearted attempt to protect her.

It was my fault, he’d said. I touched your magic.

Because he’d wanted to feel it, that part of her.

He thought that featherlight pluck of his magic had been the catalyst for her disastrous meltdown.

His earnest shame was almost cute, except Eunny couldn’t feel further from laughing.

He of such little magic, not realizing how collaboration and joining like that was fairly standard.

When she finally let herself think back on that awful day, to remember his part in it as he’d begged her to do, she picked up on those minute flutters.

Recognized the signature of his magic and how it felt, realized how many times she’d been experiencing flickers of it throughout their fling.

Oh, Ollas, thinking he’d been to blame all these years, too. No, that was all hers.

He deserved better. Someone whose first response wasn’t flight at his declaration of… love. Could he really? Her? How could he even know?

It didn’t matter. Ollas might think he was in for whatever mess she entailed, but Eunny was not.

Ollas—sweet, caring Nev—he deserved someone who gave him honesty back.

Eunny ran. He’d chosen her and all his confession did was fill her with an unnamable fear.

It was just…wrong. He couldn’t, shouldn’t, feel like that about her.

The Homegrown Hero couldn’t be in love with the Healer Who Hurts.

The woman who would rather hide than have anything to do with magic, even if it meant keeping herself from the work that was her calling.

Mending wasn’t absolute, wasn’t perfect or without risks; Eunny knew that.

It couldn’t fix all ills. Magic worked until it didn’t, as the saying went.

She wasn’t the first to have an accident.

Wouldn’t be the last, either. Eunny understood the logic, the reality, but she couldn’t find comfort in it.

Ollas’s forgiveness should’ve been freeing, yet she couldn’t convince herself to believe.

Whenever a shred of hope, of longing for the kind of life she might have if she put faith in him, rose, guilt was never far away.

This thing with Ollas had been a mistake. He had weakened her resolve, left her vulnerable to the myriad temptations of magic and belonging that were everywhere in the Valley. She’d cut herself off from the magic community before. She could do it again.

Eunny stopped outside the damaged building.

Her repair café. Gransen had worked faster than she’d imagined; it looked under construction rather than coming back from collapse.

She moved to unlock the front door, then shook her head, ambling around the side to peer in at the darkened main room.

Still a mess inside, but an organized one.

Ready for her to start again. Go back to the way things were, with her in town and only indirect contact with the school.

With Ollas. She could go back to a few words of small talk.

She could move on and forget. She knew such apathy was in her; she’d done it before. Could pare every tender piece away until she was stone again. Nothing but superficial pleasantries on the outside, allowing no one in. But it would be harder this time.

Movement, a reflection in the glass of the café’s rear window, caught Eunny’s eye. A temporary ladder had replaced the broken stairway outside of the living quarters over the tearoom. Eunny turned in time to see a black cloak disappear inside the loft.

Eunny scampered after as quietly as she could, mouthing a prayer to the Goddess that the ladder wouldn’t creak.

Or break beneath her. Peering over the top rung, Eunny watched as her mother prowled around the small loft.

She held a small light globe in one hand and a scrap of paper in the other, consulting it on occasion while picking through Eunny’s old stash of tea and other blending ingredients.

“What are you doing?” Eunny snapped, pulling herself up the rest of the way so she could follow her mother into the loft.

Bioon startled, hand dropping to her cloak’s pocket as she doused the light globe. Her arm tensed, and Eunny had a brief, intense moment of awe as the prospect of her mother pulling a weapon on her flitted through her mind. But then Bioon’s stance eased as recognition crossed her face. “Eunji.”

“Mother.” Eunny stalked forward. “Why are you sneaking around my house? Does Auntie Yerina?—”

“Your house? Don’t be ridiculous. This hovel is hardly livable.” Bioon gave the torn-up floor and gaping hole near the front a disdainful look. “You clearly haven’t been staying here.”

“I’ve been at the school. Again, what are you—” Eunny darted forward and snatched at the paper in her mother’s hand, managing to tear half free. She stared at the hastily sketched lines depicting the delegation plant. “What the fuck is this?”

“Keep your voice down,” Bioon said mildly. “You don’t want to attract attention.”

“I think I do.” Eunny brandished the scrap of paper. “It was you! The fucking Coalition, I should’ve guessed. I can’t believe you broke into a Sylveren building. The Sentinels?—”

“If you force my hand, Eunji, the Sentinels or any other security you call will find remnants of your precious plants being smuggled out in Mighty Leaf packaging, courtesy of my sister.”

Eunny stared at her mother. “What?”

Bioon’s smile was pitying. “You know, Yeri would probably admit to it, if she thought it would help me.”

“You— She isn’t even involved in this!” Eunny hissed. “You’d go down, too.”

“My employers would take care of me.” Bioon’s tone cooled. “My sister would not be so fortunate. Or do you want to take that chance?”

A part of her wanted to call her mother’s bluff, but Eunny thought of Yerina, so desperate for any semblance of familial affection between them.

How she continued to write to her sister, dismissing Bioon’s constant snubs and always offering up her heart.

Maybe they could prove Yerina’s innocence, but not before it caused problems for the Mighty Leaf.

Bioon would sully the tearoom’s name, interfere with trade contracts, and that was presuming Yerina wasn’t hauled down to Central for any legal proceedings.

Not to mention the damage it would cause between the sisters.

For one short, savage moment, Eunny considered it, wondering if such a betrayal would finally make her aunt see the truth.

She couldn’t do it.

“Why do you even want them? The plants are fucking dying anyway. What good are they to you?”

Bioon said nothing.

“They’re from the delegation. I remember the seeds. What is the Coalition doing?—”

“I did warn you not to meddle in Coalition affairs,” Bioon murmured. “You should’ve known to leave well enough alone. The Coalition is very protective of its property.”

“They don’t belong to you,” Eunny snarled. “They were part of the Eyllic deal, right? Isn’t that why you had me test them? And since the delegation went to shit, I imagine the Sentinels would dispute your claims.”

“They’re welcome to try.”

The mocking smile on her mother’s lips made Eunny want to scream. Or slap it from her face. It filled her with such rage that her hands shook as she fisted them at her sides. “I won’t let you get away with this.”

“Oh?”

Eunny summoned a mocking smile of her own. “You missed a spot.” Maybe. She couldn’t remember what had happened to the sole remaining cutting after she’d fled from Trunk. But Bioon didn’t know that. She thought her Coalition goons had already cleared out the place. “Return the plants, or I’ll?—”

“Turn them over to me willingly, and this all goes away,” Bioon said, tone cold but unwavering. “Force my hand and it will go badly.”

“Just try it. You might’ve been able to sneak into the most unused greenhouse, but let’s see the might of the Coalition try and invade Sylveren University,” Eunny taunted.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The Coalition owns everything from the delegation, including goods brought by the Eyllics.

They will get them, Eunji. They can assert the Law of Eminence and get the Lower Council to order your surrendering possession if they must, and the university will comply.

Relinquish your plants without fuss”—Bioon gave her a contemptuous look—“or they will be taken from you, and you can say goodbye to Yeri and her pathetic tea shop.”

“You hateful bitch.”

Bioon stared at her in silence for a long moment. Her eyes pressed closed, nostrils flaring as she inhaled, shoulders tensing.

Eunny fought to keep herself still. Would this be the time her mother finally yelled back?

They’d fought all Eunny’s life, but Bioon cut with scorn, not volume.

Eunny was the one who yelled and screamed.

Tantrums were beneath her mother. Or perhaps one needed to care more, to feel more, to have those kinds of feelings and fights.

Doubtless, her mother had been called worse by people whose opinions actually mattered to her.

Bioon tossed her ripped half of the plant drawing aside as she swept toward the loft’s door. “I’ve given you your options. My colleagues will be on the next windrunner up here. Make your choice or one will be made for you.”

Eunny wasn’t sure how long she stood staring at the blank space where her mother had been.

With numb fingers, she retrieved the paper, crumpling it into a ball before stuffing it in her pocket.

She slowly followed the same trail Bioon had taken, hesitating outside the Mighty Leaf’s back door.

The warmth and sounds of merriment were too much for her mood right now.

A form paused beyond the door’s window, then Auntie Yerina appeared in the doorway. “Eunny! I didn’t know you were here. Your mother just?—”

Eunny didn’t know what her face looked like, but it couldn’t have been good. Yerina hurried forward, arms wrapping around her shoulders.

“Eunny. I’m sorry. Whatever it was, give her time. She’ll come around and?—”

Same old Yerina, coming to her hateful little sister’s defense.

Not even questioning what Bioon had done, or how Bioon contributed to the perennial fights and acrimony always brewing between mother and daughter.

No, Yerina was always playing peacemaker, endeavoring for Eunny to be better, more understanding.

Never a word spoken against Bioon, ever.

Yerina made such an easy target that it was no wonder Bioon took advantage.

Bioon was probably right in thinking that Yerina would shoulder the blame, too; anything for her precious sister, no matter how undeserving she was.

And Eunny passively went along, Bioon pulling her strings, too.

Eunny shrugged out of her aunt’s embrace. “Are you serious? She’s always been like this. She’s a fucking bitch who?—”

“She’s your mother, Eunny,” Yerina said in a pained voice. “I know she can be cold. I know that, but she’ll?—”

“Why do you defend her? Why do you even try with her?” Eunny yelled. “She hates you. You do know that, right? She hates you and just uses you whenever she wants something. She uses everybody, and we’re all just too stupid to do anything about it.”

Blinking back angry tears, Eunny dashed out of the room.