Page 50 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The feeling of cold metal against her bare skin made a shiver run down Eunny’s spine. She ignored it. Fingers wrapped around the blades to keep them firmly closed, she offered the small shears to Gransen, handle first.

“Honor’s all yours,” she said, wiggling the handle when Gransen could only stare at her. “Granse. Manage.”

He startled, a grin breaking across his face. “Can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Me either, believe me,” she grumbled. A wry smile threatened to ruin her cool facade. “Go on. You deserve it.”

Taking the shears, Gransen set the open edge against the plain woven ribbon.

It was still a little stained at the edges, but several washes—not to mention a dye bath to turn it from grubby beige to a deep red—had gotten rid of the musty smell.

And what better than a reclaimed and repaired ribbon to commemorate the grand reopening of Song’s Scrap?

With a hearty snip, the shears cut through the ribbon, and the two halves fluttered to the ground. A cheer went up from the crowd gathered in the street. Gransen flung open the new double doors, giving a dramatic bow as he cried, “Song’s Scrap is officially open for business!”

Eunny stepped back, parking herself off to the side of the entryway.

She nodded and murmured thanks to the townsfolk; those she was friendly with stopped by for a quick word.

She’d been surprised to find a few dozen folks attending the repair café’s opening but had figured most were just there out of communal goodwill or idle curiosity.

Winter in Sylvan was relatively slow outside of Winterfest activities, and they still had a few blessed weeks of quiet before the holiday machine started up.

Now that the ribbon was cut, Eunny assumed people would opt for food and drink at the Mighty Leaf.

Many did, but to her surprise, a good many did not, instead shuffling through the repair café’s doors.

Some clutched their own items, intent on making use of the café’s services.

Terryl Nevin led a small group of her fellow library staff, their hands full with assorted sewing and other needlework projects.

Terryl swept Eunny up in a hug, murmuring in her ear, “Olly’s in line at the teashop,” before following her colleagues to the main table by the window.

Several people, mostly visitors, merely went in to see what the café had to offer, politely nodding in greeting as they went past. Eunny looked to the side, where the salvaged metal sign hung once more from the roof.

A new, smaller one had been added underneath, announcing Song’s Scrap, Owner—Eunny Song, Managed by Gransen Mast .

“It looks good. Legitimate,” Dae said, coming up beside Eunny.

Calya and Zhenya joined them. “Who knew this heap could clean up so nice,” Calya added.

Eunny scoffed, bumping the younger woman with her shoulder.

“Is that any way to treat an ally?” Calya groused when, by trying to escape, she stepped in a puddle. Perhaps the brief gust of wind that kicked up on what was otherwise a calm day had helped. “This place hates me. I’m leaving soon enough, okay?” she said in exasperation to the sky.

“Are you okay, though?” Eunny asked, voice lowering.

“No, now my feet are wet for my nausea-inducing ride home.”

Dae sighed. “Caly.”

Calya gave an indifferent shrug. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Don’t get into shit with the Coalition on my account,” Eunny said.

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?”

“Then fix it. Apologize. I can try and?—”

Calya dismissed Eunny’s words with a wave of her hand. “No. They have no legal quarrel with me.” Her lips spread with a predator’s smile. “Besides, it’s good for the Coalition to know not every business in Graelynd will be cowed by them.”

Dae rubbed her hand over her face. “My baby sister. Taking on the Scourge of Graelynd.”

Eunny and Zhenya exchanged glances, but the younger woman only shrugged.

When it came to managing Helm Naval, Calya had always been headstrong.

Eunny hadn’t expected her to outright lie to the Coalition members en route to the Valley, but the younger Helm daughter had done…

almost that. Embroiled Bioon’s colleagues in HNE affairs regarding the investigation into the Brint Avenor debacle from earlier in the year.

The finer details of her dealings with the Coalition were known only to Calya herself.

Eunny suspected the younger woman liked it that way, and would endeavor to keep the exact truth a mystery.

Eunny had wondered why her mother had showed up at the greenhouse with only two guards.

Apparently, Calya’s machinations had led to the detainment of the Coalition cohort in Renstown.

She had also forced the hand of the Sentinels investigating said cohort, but it had resulted in the recovery of the stolen delegation plants.

The specimens had withered to desiccated husks as the bloom cycle ended unfulfilled, but the evidence was damning all the same.

And Valley folk, even those in the larger town across the lake, didn’t take kindly to Graelynders making demands and acting like they were above the laws of the Valley.

A group of Sentinels made their way into the Mighty Leaf. One of them noticed Eunny and her friends standing in front of the café and stopped. His hood was pulled back, revealing dark brown hair that fell past his shoulders. A frown marred his weather-tanned face, his gaze focused on Calya.

As if she felt his stare, Calya lifted her head, eyes seeking its origin. She returned the man’s animosity with a pointed look of her own. The Sentinel turned away and vanished into the tearoom.

“What was that about?” Eunny asked as they all turned to Calya with expectant looks.

“Nothing. He was the Sentinels’ liaison with the Coalition.” She shrugged. “Suffice it to say, he should stick to being a woodsman. One needs a fast head for their business.”

Before anyone could respond, the door to the Mighty Leaf opened again, and Bioon walked out, followed by her Coalition colleagues and a different escort of Sentinels. She stopped, then motioned toward Eunny. “I’d like a moment with my daughter, if you please.”

When one of the Graelynders tried to protest, Bioon silenced him with a cold look.

“It’s okay,” Eunny said to her friends. “Go inside. This won’t take long.”

She followed her mother away from the buildings to a short outcropping that overlooked the road leading down to Sylvan’s small port.

As they passed the Mighty Leaf, Eunny glanced inside to see Yerina standing at the counter, watching.

It was hard to tell through the window, but Eunny thought her aunt looked…

resolved. Wistful, but free of the kind of pained sadness that usually followed family interactions.

Standing close enough for conversation while still maintaining the distance of strangers, mother and daughter faced the water, unspeaking.

Down in the harbor, a small windrunner, the type that held scarcely more than fifty passengers plus crew, was being readied to sail.

Bioon would be on it soon, leaving Sylvan’s shores in disgrace.

The Coalition faced heavy sanctions and formal investigations for its transgressions, from both the Order of Sylveren and Graelynd’s Upper Council, and Bioon had been stripped of her position in the organization.

Seeing as neither Bioon nor any Coalition representatives were allowed in the Valley without express permission, Eunny realized it might be the last time she saw her mother in this place again.

Probably the last time they would speak in a good long while, for Bioon was being reassigned to a backwater posting in southern Graelynd.

In the three days since the showdown at the greenhouse, Eunny had learned that Yerina had kept her promise to stall Bioon.

Bioon had already been in Sylvan when she’d learned of her team’s delay, and was prepared to charge up to the school when her sister insisted they talk.

Sweet Yerina, the older sister who’d always been the pushover.

Always so kind in the face of Bioon’s chill.

A lifetime of being sisters, and Yerina only gave and asked nothing in return.

She’d finally come to collect, buying Eunny several precious minutes before her mother had seen the tactic for what it was and left.

To have been fooled by Yerina of all people—for Bioon, there was no coming back from that.

“You handled yourself well up here, Eunji,” her mother finally said. “You won your silly little seeds.”

Those silly little seeds had dragged Bioon’s ass up to the Valley.

The Coalition had been willing to commit treason over them.

A betrayal with the best of intentions, the Coalition had pled, a tepid agreement with the Eyllic Empire to try and adapt their poison so it could penetrate the Valley’s arcane protections.

In exchange, Eylle would share the secret of how they’d created their own magical wellspring, being the only nation to ever have managed such a feat.

With Graelynd reliant on the abundant overflow from the Valley’s wellspring, Eunny could begrudgingly admit to understanding the Coalition’s interest. The seeds had been a guarantee of safety for the Coalition, providing plants that could be used to keep researchers from falling ill while they worked.

The Coalition claimed their intent was to study the poison and provide an antidote for all. At a reasonable price, of course.

Only the Eyllics had changed the deal, withholding their supposed method of creating a wellspring until after the Coalition delivered.

The empire had refused to allow any of the delegation to leave until agreements were made, sealed in blood.

It was pure luck that Ollas’s group of Sentinels had found them when they did, and after years at war, with Graelynders being held under threat of violence, it was easy to send the camp into chaos.

The Coalition had destroyed as much evidence as they could linking them to such treachery.

Might’ve gotten away with it, too, if not for a curious gardener planting some seemingly nondescript little brown seeds in an unused patch of ground on Sylveren’s campus.

“Was it worth it, Mother? Betraying your allies, selling your soul.”

“Don’t get cute with me,” Bioon said mildly. “And, yes. My only regret is that I failed.”

“You can’t be serious! Working with Eylle ?”

“Nothing has stopped them so far, Eunji. Nothing. It’s only a matter of time before they find a way to destroy the Valley, and then where will Graelynd be?

” Bioon said, a fervent note in her tone that Eunny had never heard before.

“Hate my methods, but you are too smart to not see the logic behind our work.”

“The Coalition dumped you. No need to keep singing their praises.”

“We have always acted in the best interests of Graelynd. The Coalition will always endeavor to protect her, to make the hard call so others can?—”

“The Eyllic warlord won’t rest until all the wellsprings are dust. You really think he’d leave Graelynd alone?” Eunny demanded. “Spare me your supposed patriotism. The Coalition wanted to make money. That’s all it ever cares about.”

Bioon gave a delicate shrug. “Believe what you like. Cling to your na?ve hope. When the truth of Eylle’s might is on your precious Valley’s doorstep, perhaps you’ll believe your mother then.”

“They’re hiding behind their walls across the sea. Think about that while you’re checking timesheets or whatever scut work you’ve got to look forward to down in South District.”

Behind them, Ollas called Eunny’s name. She turned, raising her hand to wave.

“We’ve already got a way to stop the poison from spreading.” Eunny grinned with teeth. “Now we can keep it from sickening people. I’d say things are looking up.”

“For the sake of the Empyrean Territories, I hope that’s true,” Bioon murmured. “Do not be blinded by your pride, Eunji. The Coalition has resources?—”

Eunny faced her mother. “You don’t write. You can’t visit. Let’s keep it that way. For good.”

Bioon said nothing, but there was a tightness to her smirk.

Eunny turned away, only to look back once more.

“And Bioon? If you ever try to manipulate me again, or threaten Auntie Yerina, I will become your daughter. I’ll fight as fucking dirty as you do.

” She held up her hand and summoned a palmful of light.

“Remember that I never really lost my magic. That I have it and you don’t.

I’m the Healer Who Hurts, and I won’t think twice about hurting you, Mother . ”

“Are you done?” Bioon said, her bored tone too forced to be authentic. “We sail within the hour.”

Eunny turned, catching the eye of the lead guard responsible for escorting the Coalition to the docks and seeing them into Graelynd’s custody. She nodded once, walking away from her mother without looking back.

“Are you okay?” Ollas asked as she stepped into his waiting arms.

“Never better,” she said. “Just dumping some old baggage.”

Ollas draped his arm around her, shivering dramatically as he squeezed her close. “Can we go inside? It’s freezing out here, and Yerina made those melty cheese bun things.”

Eunny laughed, letting him steer her back toward the café. “We leave for Rhell in a few days, to spend most of the winter in the north. This is nothing.”

“It’s a good thing I’ll have you to keep me warm.”

“What happened to worshipping at the Altar of Song?” Eunny said with mock indignation. “Goddesses don’t do all the work.”

“I will happily do the work.” Ollas kissed the side of her head, lips lingering by her ear. “We’ll both be nice and warm, I promise.”

With a big, silly grin on her face, Eunny took him by the hand and pulled him back into her shop.