Once Ezzyn and Chief Hakan had left and the door closed behind them, Dae’s head whipped toward Eunny. “The greenhouse complex? Do tell.”
“Says she who didn’t mention a peep about this in her last letter,” Eunny groused. She went to shut the window, resuming the privacy charm enchanted into each of the Healing Hut’s rooms. “Since when does a prince of Rhell do dirt delivery?”
“It’s for samples from the containment zones. Ez has been working with the glassblower guild on new shielding spells. Hopefully, we’ll get the next batch to last several days. As for the letter”—a guilty smile flashed across Dae’s face as she ducked her head in contrition—“I didn’t want you to worry! Ez is overreacting.”
Eunny dropped onto the Chief Mender’s vacated stool. “Is he, though? Why’re you getting personally treated by the chief if it’s nothing serious?”
Dae choked down more of her medicinal brew. “It really isn’t. Certainly not if it meant having to drink this, Great Wave drown me.” She took another sip, meeting Eunny’s skeptical gaze, and sighed. “The poison is getting stronger within containment zones. The wards are working, but it’s like the poison is more… concentrated. The symptoms are unchanged, but it all hits faster now.”
“Lovely,” Eunny muttered. “Guess the secrecy makes sense.”
“Tell me about you. The greenhouse? You didn’t mention any of that in your last letter either, Lady Hypocrite.” Dae pointed an accusing finger. “All you said was that the café needed some repairs.”
“And that’s the truth!”
“We rode past it on the way in, Eun. You never said it collapsed.” Dae glowered at her. “What happened? Tell me everything and take my mind off the taste of this swill.”
It was Eunny’s turn to shrink inward. In stops and starts, she recounted the last day of Song’s Scrap, of Ollas’s injury and her own guilt. She cringed over the tale of her living situation, and softly admitted how she liked the Grove and assisting with Ollas’s work.
“Are you thinking about bringing back some apothecary work?” Dae asked carefully, glancing back toward the cabinet where the Chief Mender had stored the jars.
“No. I don’t know. Not really?” Eunny ran her fingers through her hair. “There’s this side project Nev has been working on...”
Dae was quiet for a moment. “Oh? Nev?”
“Yea.” Eunny made a face at her friend. “You’ve heard me—I’ve been calling him that since we were kids!”
Dae set the now-empty cup aside. “I don’t recall that at all.” She scooted forward on the examination chair. “Anyway, you were saying? You and Nev?”
“There are these plants—he grew them from seed stock the Sentinels found during the delegation mess. There’s something about them. I think they might...” Eunny hesitated. She loved Dae, trusted her, but she’d been selling the story about having lost her magic for so long. Even to one of her best friends, she didn’t know how to go about undoing years of lies. Easier to just add another to the pile.
“It’ll be faster if I just show you.” Eunny got to her feet. “It’s been long enough. I’ll vouch for your leaving.”
They headed back down the road, cloak hoods pulled up against the light rain.
“Did you hear that my father formally stepped back from his director role at Helm Naval?” Dae asked. “Calya’s already plotting her final takeover.”
Dae’s father had stubbornly held on to his title at the maritime trading company he’d built, Helm Naval Engineering, despite having moved on to a political position in Graelynd’s minor council. A move—or lack of one—that had caused a growing amount of friction with his youngest daughter.
“Gods all help anyone who stands in her way,” Eunny said.
“She’s finalizing a new trade deal with Renstown. If you need anything from Central sent by a faster boat, just ask.”
“Think she can cut out the Coalition?”
Dae laughed. “No harm in asking. I’m pretty sure Caly thrives on adversity.”
Their talk turned to Eunny’s attempts at playing grovetender. Dae wasn’t surprised by the Restorers of the Alliance being involved with a class at Sylveren, and muttered darkly about the Coalition sponsorship. The timeframe elicited an eyeroll.
“One term! For a new hybrid? Even with accelerated growth boosters, that sounds more like politics and business than anything with a mind for research. One term,” Dae muttered. “I’ll bet the Coalition is behind pushing that kind of deadline. Ridiculous.”
“You sound like N—Ollas.” Eunny chuckled. “Though I think he secretly likes the challenge.”
Dae gave her a sidelong glance. “You two seem to have gotten close.”
“I’m his peon. Not for much longer, anyway. He doesn’t really need my help anymore.” Eunny’s smile faltered, but she hitched it back into place when Dae continued to eye her.
“Do you want to stay?” Dae asked.
