He did, instructing her on combining amendment with the corrupted soil mix and the depth of the hole to make, reminding her to keep a light touch when firming the soil around the roots and stem of her cutting. He poured a small amount of accelerant into the terrarium and gave her a fresh stirring rod, advising that she fluff the area around the stem.
Eunny nodded along, eyes glued to her task. Her bare finger swirled through the soil, her expression serious. “Tell me the timeframe we’re looking at again?”
“This is all guesswork,” Ollas said. “But if it goes as well as it did for Anadae, we could see changes by tomorrow. Morning, if it’s really fast.”
He watched Eunny, noting the tightness in her features. The fine sheen of sweat forming on her brow.
At the edge of his mind, he felt a slight tug of awareness. Of recognition. Of magic.
He went still, but Eunny was too consumed with her task to notice. Magic. That brush against his senses, weak as it was, weak as his magic was, couldn’t be denied. Ollas wasn’t a powerful mage, but he could recognize the arcane. Had enough ability to identify the essence of magic, if not the signature, and what he felt now wasn’t from any branch he knew. Which made sense; Eunny wasn’t an elementalist at all.
He was feeling Eunny’s light. Something hazy in the back of his mind warmed at the familiarity. Slowly, he made the connection to the buzzy feeling when they’d had sex, the sparking sensations between their skin. At the time, he’d been so enthralled with being with Eunny that he hadn’t done any critical thinking. But as he tried to grasp the details steeped in euphoria, deeper memories stirred. Ones that didn’t have the same blissful glow. Their magic intertwining—he’d felt that before, too. Ever so briefly, before everything went horribly wrong.
“Nev.”
Eunny’s voice broke Ollas from his musing.
“Keep talking,” she said without looking up. “Just, uh, keep my mind off the fact that I’m wrist-deep in poisoned dirt.”
“Sure. Um.” He fought to keep his voice calm. Level. Unsuspecting. “We did something like this for my Adept Two research.”
He blathered on about cold, wet nights in the mountains. Meanwhile, his mind whirred over this revelation. Eunny had her magic, in some amount. He couldn’t be sure if she was using it consciously or if some part of the process drew it from her unbeknownst to Eunny herself. He didn’t dare to ask. Not with how adamantly she professed to be against using it.
If this was a subconscious awakening of her threads of magic, then he’d need to tread softly. At least until she warmed to the notion of having magic again. Ollas would be at her side regardless.
“Done.” Eunny slapped the rod down with a triumphant look. She closed the glass roof panel on the box. “Is this going to fit on the shelf?”
It took some rearranging, but they managed to create space to hide their secret project away again. She gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks.”
“Eunny…” He started to speak but couldn’t get further than her name. Where to begin? “We should… You?—”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “Not yet. Not no, just not yet. Can’t we just enjoy how things are for a bit before we make decisions?”
Bad idea. Delaying such conversations, not knowing where they really stood? Definitely a bad, bad idea. He was grown enough to know better, but when his mouth opened again, all that came out was, “Sure.”
“Good. Anything else we can do for that?” Eunny nodded with her chin at the terrarium. “Waiting isn’t really my strong suit.”
Ollas rubbed his chin. “Zhenya might be able to help.”
“What’ll ink do?”
“I was thinking more of how she tends to know at least a little about everything botanical,” Ollas said with a short laugh. “She’s already looked into the similarities with rare blooming varieties, and she’s more familiar with imprinting spells than I am, at least the theory behind the workings. Not sure how recently that was, but…” He shrugged.
Eunny mimicked the motion. “I’ll see if I can find her.”
He checked the wall clock. “My guess is the library. I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t you have a report due to the Restorers?” Her nose wrinkled. “And my mother.”
He held the door open for her. “It can wait. The second trial’s been lagging this week, anyway. If she doesn’t believe me, she can come out and see for herself.”
The library at Sylveren University was a grand building, all aged wood, though it was comprised of so much glass it was more window than wall. Large trees flanked the multilevel building, stalwart evergreens rather than the ethereal maple that was the Grove. Some kind of vine climbed up the front of the building near the main entrance. It appeared as if the vine had been meant to frame the large double doors as a decorative element—Eunny had a vague recollection of there being pretty, papery flowers as big as her fist during the summer—but now, the vine was nearly leafless for the approaching winter, and it had escaped containment, sending out branches in all directions.
Eunny followed Ollas up to the second level reference desk. His step faltered as they approached the older woman seated there.
“Hello, Ma,” he said. “Have you seen Zhenya around?”
Though the question was spoken cordially enough, there was a note of warning in his tone.
