Page 7 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Chapter Five

Eunny knew she wasn’t part of the magical community anymore, not really.

She lived in Sylvan, but she wouldn’t let herself feel like she belonged .

Like it was a place and a life that could still be hers.

The Healer Who Hurts didn’t deserve that, regardless of who her auntie was.

Eunny had lost the right to feel at home, the will for it. She didn’t want it back…

Most days, she didn’t want that old life back.

Didn’t miss it, because she didn’t let herself think about it, about how her current stasis with a crumbly repair shop wasn’t at all what she’d pictured.

Yet here she was, following the others back to the Grove, her head still spinning with Ollas’s… offer.

She couldn’t figure him out. He’d been awkward yet earnest at the repair café.

Even more so when she’d come to pitch her idea of helping him out during his recovery.

But it wasn’t the easy, casual camaraderie she remembered from their childhood, or the fleeting encounters when they’d chanced upon each other around town as adults.

Ollas walked slightly ahead of her, limping along well enough with his cane.

He chatted amiably with Zhenya. Something about worms and mash and tea, which Eunny hoped to the gods was a garden thing and not something she’d be asked to weigh in on.

Topic aside, it didn’t escape her notice that Ollas had no trouble conversing with Zhenya.

Shared a laugh, nodding along when Zhen got going about her latest ink experiment.

Conversation between them flowed in a way that had something disturbingly like envy settling in Eunny’s gut.

Which was ridiculous; she knew they were friends—they were friends with her!

—and had more in common with each other than with Eunny.

Sweet, bookish nerds. But Ollas even murmured a few greetings to fellow grovetenders as they made their way to the branch where the faculty offices were housed.

There was an easy confidence about him on campus that he didn’t share when it was just them.

Eunny suppressed a sigh. Maybe it’d be better to decline his housing offer with as much grace as she could muster.

Professor Saren Rai was waiting for them in his office.

Eunny had met Zhenya’s advisor-slash-mentor-slash-boss several times since her own Initiate years and had heard about him many times over.

Of Hanyeok descent like Eunny and Zhenya, his jet-colored hair had the beginnings of gray streaks.

He appeared in his late forties—maybe early fifties; hard to tell after a certain point—and stood around six feet, long of frame with a slight hunch to the shoulders and bump of a belly.

That, coupled with an underlying paleness to his light brown skin, betrayed the fact that he spent most of his time indoors, though his pallor was counteracted by colorful ink stains on his fingers.

Both Zhenya and her mentor sported an aggressive violet today, the hue fading to pink at the edges.

Rai looked up from the papers scattered across his desk. “Ah, Miss Lee, you found them. Ollas,” he said, nodding to greet him, before landing on Eunny. “Hello, Miss Song.”

Eunny blinked with surprise that the head of the botany department knew who she was, but apparently one of her friends had already made her proposed role known.

“The Restorers want to change something about the elective?” Ollas said as they all took seats.

Rai regarded them, expression grave. “The rate of illness stemming from poison exposure in Rhell is increasing. The Restorers ask that, in addition to the current bioremediation work, the elective run trials on an additional healing cultivar to improve its hardiness. Even better if we can somehow combine the two.”

Both Zhenya and Ollas made sounds of dismay.

“It’s contained, isn’t it?” Eunny asked before Rai had finished speaking. “In Rhell. The new ward configuration Dae— I thought the containment measures were working.”

“They are, as far as anyone in the Rhellian government or with the Restorers have said.” Rai made a soothing gesture. “However, no one could’ve anticipated how it would react in containment. No one has died, to be clear.”

As if death was the worst that could happen to a body.

“But?” she pressed.

“More are falling ill.” Rai sighed. “Availability of arable land in the region has been tumultuous for quite some time, so any progress we make toward improved efficiency will be put to use.”

Ollas cleared his throat, continuing in a low tone, “The menders can’t help?”

“Certainly, but serious afflictions? No more than they have since the beginning with this poison. These newer ailments are less entrenched, but it pulls magic and energy away from where it’s needed.

” Rai glanced at all three of them, gaze lingering on Eunny.

“I trust that you will keep this in confidence?”

A soft chorus of assurances led him to give a tired nod in acknowledgement. “The students will recognize the benefits of the materials we’re working with, but this development in the containment zones isn’t to be made public.”

“I have a lighter courseload this term already, so I’ll do all I can.” Ollas’s brow furrowed. “I’ve got some ideas for adjusting the lectures and lab approach.”

They began discussing an amendment to the syllabus, with Zhenya interjecting details of Rai’s other commitments as they applied. It wasn’t lost on Eunny how self-assured Ollas was when it came to his teaching duties. A stark contrast when compared to their own interactions.

Ollas was naturally kind of shy and quiet, but they’d been friends.

Were friends. The delegation-turned-kidnapping-turned-rescue had changed things, of course it had.

Eunny knew it. And now, after Song’s Scrap collapsing, things were even more fraught.

Like he’d retreated into his shell, wary of her even though the glimmers of that old friendship came through.

Or was she just imagining it, so determined not to let her fucked-up break with magic control her that she couldn’t see how their friendship had fractured?

Or maybe she’d always assumed it was more solid a friendship than reality had proved it to be.

But then, Ollas wouldn’t offer up his spare room if he didn’t want her around. Would he?

Quietly, Eunny let her gaze linger on him as the three grovetenders deliberated.

Even when Ollas pushed back against some of Rai or Zhenya’s suggestions he didn’t become loud or arrogant.

Eunny didn’t follow the plant jargon they all were using, but she recognized competence when she saw it.

And in Ollas it was… alluring. In a way that had her tilting her head, an unspoken huh behind closed lips.

Not unlike how she’d felt when he answered his door clad more in bandages than clothes.

Nope . Eunny gave herself a mental shake. Inappropriate thoughts at any time, but especially now. Get back to just being able to talk like normal people, Eun.

She banished the image of Ollas’s chest and tried to ignore his smooth confidence while in his element.

It was alarmingly more difficult than she’d expected.

Something to noodle over later. But as she redirected her focus to what Professor Rai had said, his grim revelations quickly consumed her.

Troubles in Rhell and the containment effort, people catching sickness from fighting the poison—yet she hadn’t heard a peep from Dae about any of it.

Fear wound around Eunny’s heart. She’d had a letter from Dae not a week ago, and it hadn’t mentioned anything.

A gross omission Eunny would be addressing as soon as she got ahold of a pen.

But why would Dae keep it a secret? No, Eunny didn’t talk about her magic or lack of it anymore, but Dae knew she could speak in generalities with Eunny.

She lived with magic, but not with magic; there was a difference.

Maybe the public wasn’t supposed to know, but Eunny wasn’t the public.

They were best friends. Best friends didn’t keep serious shit like this from?—

Oh, fuck.

If Dae was sick…

No, she couldn’t be. Even if Dae was stubborn enough to be on some “I didn’t want you to worry” nonsense, Ezzyn would boil the Sylvanor River in his haste to get Dae to safety in the Valley. If he hadn’t sent word either, then it couldn’t have touched them. Yet.

The truth of the situation was enough to make Eunny choke down a frustrated scream, drawing Ollas’s attention. Concern marred his features.

Eunny shook her head. Dae was at the heart of the poison containment efforts.

Eunny’s conflicted feelings about being back at Sylveren and hovering at the edges of magic and the community and a semblance of what her life might’ve been if not for losing control in a most devastating fashion—none of it mattered.

Sure, the Restorers had just added more work to an already impossible demand.

This semester was about to be a great pain to all of them, including an assistant like her.

But if she toddled back to the dead end that currently was the state of her repair café, she’d never hear about the evolving situation in Rhell.

Not right away. But while she was around the Grove?

On hand for the elective? If any more news came in from the Restorers about what was happening in Rhell, Ollas would know.

Which meant Eunny could know, too. Ollas might be awkward with her, but she doubted he could lie.

Not if she flat out asked. And he still got an extra pair of able hands in the deal.

“Miss Song, any input you have with regard to the mending aspects is, of course, welcome,” Rai said, drawing Eunny back to the present conversation.

She cracked a weak smile. “Maybe. I never was a good hand at growing things.”

Won’t be around long enough to contribute anything useful, either.

“Perhaps we’ll benefit from your fresh eyes,” Rai said. “Would you mind if I had a word with these two? We need to discuss specifics for the course.”

“No problem.” Eunny stood up and glanced at Ollas. “Orient me on the greenhouse later?”

Ollas excused himself, stepping with her outside the office.

His shoulders hunched. “I can’t ask you to do this. Two trials—it’s going to be even more work than?—”

“Again, I’m offering, not being asked. And it’s decided.” She gave him a light smack on the arm. “I’ll be there for you for the gardening part. Will I be any good at it? Maybe, but in many ways, actually probably no. But I’ll be your arms and legs, and you can direct me.”

Ollas laughed softly, shoulders relaxing.

“And, if we’re talking adjustments for body magic, that—” Eunny caught herself from admitting anything like a current relationship to magic. Stopped short of acknowledging it as if it was still a part of her. As if it was something welcome and useful. “Eh, I know the work,” she finished instead.

“If you’re sure,” Ollas said slowly, but was that a note of hope she heard? Uncertainty, but in a good way.

“I am.” And then, since joking with him seemed to bring back some of their old comfort with each other, Eunny gave him a sly smile. “And, I accept, by the way.”

“Accept?”

“Your offer.” She laughed. “We’re going to be roommates, Nev.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s right. I mean, that’s nice. Good.” Ollas blushed, one hand coming up to cover his smile. “I’m glad.”

Something warm coursed through her at his reaction.

“If we’re not orientating now,” she said, “then I’ll head back to town and let Auntie Yerina know my plans. I’ll come up tonight.”

“Okay.” A faint blush still shone through the stubble on Ollas’s cheeks, but he met her smile with his own. “I’ll find you later, then.” He waved, then went back into the office.

Making her way back outside, Eunny’s grin widened. A confused sort of amusement built until she laughed outright. At herself, at Ollas’s response. It felt like progress, and she felt more than satisfied. Pleased.

She shook her head at her silliness. They were well on their way to rekindling the friendship, that was all.

It would make being back at Sylveren a lot more enjoyable, that was for sure, but the little flurry she was feeling about Ollas?

Nothing. Happiness at being real friends again.

Just like it had been before. Good times. Which was all she wanted.

Her glow of delight flickered as she exited the tree.

Almost against her will, she looked toward the greenhouse complex spread out around the Grove.

Her gaze lingered on the furthest building.

At this distance, the overgrown patch with its grassy clumps was barely visible, but her mind filled in the details.

“All right. First order of business then, buy gloves,” she muttered. Thick ones, the kind that could grab a kettle off the stove without feeling a thing, because gods all break, she was keeping this job.

As she set off on the path back to town, the beginnings of a twitch tugged at the corner of her eye.