Several envelopes stuffed the small box. Most were for Gransen and Ollas, with only a few for Eunny. The short, terse note from her mother nagging for an update was easily tossed out, but a flare of guilt licked at her when she found an envelope with her aunt’s flowy handwriting. She’d been lax in getting back into town of late. It had been weeks now since Bioon’s second surprise visit, and Eunny had only seen her aunt for a handful of minutes the few times she’d been by the Mighty Leaf.
Her guilt intensified when she saw that Yerina’s letter, aside from some notes on early planning for that year’s Winterfest event at the teashop, also included estimates for the café’s repairs from several craftspeople in Sylvan. Eunny flipped through the papers, noting price quotes and estimates for the time to start and complete different stages of work. She would have to decide who to hire and for what, soon, before schedules were booked up and the café suffered even more damage as it moldered away in its ruptured state.
Folding the papers back into the envelope, Eunny saw she had one last piece of mail. A half slip of paper bearing the bronze seal of Sylvan’s administration department and the letterhead of the housing office. A small apartment over in Belle Complex was finally available if she still wanted it.
Did she? It would mean losing the Grove, her easy living situation, one short hallway separating her from Ollas and Gransen. No more guarantees of seeing them every day.
No interruptions from errant roommates.
“What’s that?” Zhenya asked as she came over.
Eunny showed her the paper. Zhenya made a sound of approval. “Belle would be nice. Not too far from the greenhouses, and next door to the library.”
Eunny snorted. “Now if only they could have books in an arboretum, we’d never see you again.”
“I have some ideas for one,” Zhenya said. “Small scale, but I might be able to get the humidity levels to work.”
“I’ve no doubt.” Eunny noticed the handful of envelopes Zhenya had retrieved from her own box. “Good mail day for you.”
“Reports from some colleagues in Den’olm. We’re almost ready to send them samples from the elective.”
The border town in northeastern Rhell was one of the kingdom’s main lines of defense against the poison due to its placement along a ley line. Containing the blight there took an immense amount of resources, and that was before calculating the extra time it took with the mages having to take trips to the Valley to purge the contamination from their bodies.
“Yea, Ollas is all aflutter about that,” Eunny said. “He’s going to end up back at the Healing Hut if he doesn’t take a break.”
The first trial had progressed to the point of flowering, the starter and transplant mixes now so finely tuned that if a batch suffered, the students could get a new flat planted and grown to size in a couple of days. The blooms produced were on the pale side, balanced atop delicate stems that defied gravity through what Eunny could only presume was grovetender sorcery. A cross-country trip seemed ambitious.
“We’ll give them another run or two for improvements, but we can’t accurately simulate the way the poison is reacting in containment,” Zhenya said. “Even with the new shipments, the newer soil’s just not lasting long enough down here to test those parameters.”
Dae had confessed that Ezzyn was at loggerheads with his eldest brother, King Jeron, over whether or not to pause the containment efforts to ensure a supply of material for continuing research, or stay the course in deploying wards to curtail the spread. Eunny didn’t envy them the conflict, for it seemed like choosing between evils. She knew Ezzyn could be zealous in his quest to find a cure for Rhell, but perhaps having the love of his life fall ill would tilt him toward his brother’s approach.
“If we can get the seedlings to survive transplanting in Rhell, they’ll have a shot at adapting,” Zhenya continued. “We need a bit of luck. The Restorers are getting spooked about people getting sick faster.”
Eunny muttered a few unkind words about investors safe in their beds in Graelynd, but her mind was stuck on something else. The plants and needing to grow in the place of corruption—something about it stuck in her head, but she couldn’t quite parse out why. Dae and the visit at the Healing Hut kept flickering at the back of her mind.
“Oh! Before I forget, can you pass this on to Ollas?” Zhenya handed her another envelope. “He mentioned you’re doing some research on the plants growing outside Trunk.”
“Trying to, anyway. Whether that’s wise or not.” Eunny shrugged, quickly changing the subject. “Where are you headed now?”
Zhenya glanced at the wall clock by the door. “Slowly make my way back to the office and work on the Professor’s report for Den’olm. You?”
“Get my stuff packed.” Eunny paused. “Why ‘slowly’ going to the office?”
Zhenya hid a smile. “Professor Rai had an…appointment, this afternoon.”
Eunny’s head snapped up. “Are you telling me that Saren Rai and Garethe Sor’vahl are currently, as we speak, fu?—”
Zhenya made hissing, shushing sounds and motions, her face going scarlet. Eunny laughed—maybe cackled—in response. That the two professors were romantically involved was perhaps the worst-kept secret on campus, but she never would’ve thought Rai, so proper and dignified, dare she say even a touch fussy, would be inclined toward anything remotely naughty. Garethe Sor’vahl, on the other hand…
The fragmented thoughts that had been floating around in Eunny’s head for days began to click into place. Garethe Sor’vahl, the middle brother, mundane but heavily invested in environmental restoration and how magic could be utilized to save his homeland. He also suffered from chronic illness caused by the poison, despite long periods of time away from any corrupted areas. Ezzyn had rushed Dae to the Valley for healing, for fear that her sickness might become anything like what plagued Garethe. While an entire summer spent in the Valley had improved Garethe’s condition, he was far from cured.
There was a connection: illness and poison and the design of the remedy Dae had imbibed in the Healing Hut. She just couldn’t figure out the order for it to make sense. Maybe a visit with Garethe was in order.
She glanced at Zhenya, who looked torn between being mortified and fighting giggles. Garethe could wait until tomorrow. Eunny had to pack for her relocation to Belle. Fortunate that she didn’t have much stuff to move.
Leaving Zhenya to her slow return to the faculty branch, Eunny confirmed her new lodging with the housing office, then hurried back to the Grove.
Finding spare crates for the assortment of things she’d acquired took longer than the packing up. Gransen had absconded with the hand cart she’d originally brought. By the time Eunny found it and piled her stuff in the common room in a manner she was reasonably sure wouldn’t topple over, Ollas had returned from his last office hours.
