Yes, and what a mistake that had been. Weakness on her part, and maybe even cruelty, because she was never going to stay. Couldn’t.
“No,” she said, quiet but steady. “I can’t.”
“He doesn’t blame?—”
“I do.” She looked down at her hands. “When I see him… Until I can do that and not remember how it felt to have my magic tear him apart, there’s no forgiveness. I won’t believe in it.”
Gransen’s mouth opened, but then he just sighed, wilting in defeat.
A soft, hesitant throat-clearing broke through the heavy silence, drawing Eunny and Gransen’s attention to the door. The open door, Ollas framed within it, a flurry of emotion on his face. Shock, and hurt, yet that was too simple a word for what Eunny saw when their eyes met.
“Ollas.” Her voice came out as a whisper. No need to ask how much he’d heard. What did it matter, really, when he’d clearly heard the end?
His expression didn’t quite shutter—Ollas wasn’t capable of that—but she watched him push his disappointment away as he gathered himself to speak. “There’s been a break-in at Trunk.”
“What?” Eunny and Gransen said at once.
Ollas turned away, his arm stiff as he gestured for them to follow. “The delegation plants. They’re all gone.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Gransen opted to stay behind, not being involved in their project. Silence loomed heavy and awkward between Ollas and Eunny as they rushed down to the storage greenhouse. Ollas hated it but didn’t trust himself to break it, not yet. Not when his thoughts were still twisted up in Eunny’s words. How she’d yelled at Gransen, been so adamant in her denials. Her honesty, no less brutal for its truthfulness. Perhaps it was good for him to hear it, this affirmation that when Eunny looked at him, she couldn’t see past the specter of guilt. Then again, weren’t they the same in that? Only, Eunny still didn’t know the whole truth. Couldn’t, not if she didn’t remember the specifics of that day. The details surrounding the moment her magic had gone so wrong. The cause. He’d have to tell her, make her listen instead of letting her wave away his feeble attempts. He’d have to stop being a coward.
But not yet. There were more pressing matters at hand. He cast a quick glance her way and found anxiety mirrored in Eunny’s face before she broke eye contact. The emotions were too raw. Given the crime scene in the greenhouse, stress levels would only get worse over the course of the night.
Professor Rai and Zhenya were already in Trunk, their expressions grim when the others approached.
“I’ve alerted Castle,” Rai said, naming the manager of the greenhouse complex. “No one else knows, and I would like it kept that way. I’ll inform the dean.”
Ollas nodded in acknowledgement. A dull form of numbness crept over him as he stared around the rear antechamber. The floor was a mess of tipped over glass jars and spilled substrate. Only one of the jars had broken, but each was empty; not even a broken-off leaf remained of the delegation plants. The bucket of scraps for the compost piles had been emptied. The rest of the rack where the jars had been was eerily clean and ordinary compared to the disarray on the ground. As if the thief had known exactly what to take. Which made no sense. There were valuable specimens in Trunk. Not in the tidiest of shape, or ones that would fetch the highest prices compared to what the grovetenders kept elsewhere, but still more valuable than the anonymous plants that had been growing outside for the last six years. Though Ollas had a gut feeling they were special, he had no proof. Neither Zhenya nor Rai had detected anything unique or magical about them, and if grovetenders of their caliber could not, then why would anyone else?
“I was coming in to test some different amendments,” Ollas said in a dull tone. “No one was in here. I didn’t pass anyone on the way in.”
Not that he’d been looking especially hard. It was the greenhouse complex; students and staff came and went all the time. The later hour was of no consequence, either, since a full moon approached and Magisters’ experiments were being readied for it.
As far as finding Trunk undisturbed—except for the rear antechamber—that wasn’t so surprising, either. It was Trunk, the storage greenhouse. While the doors technically locked—as demonstrated by his escapades with Eunny—no one had bothered with locking Trunk for security reasons in years. There was no need amongst the student body, and besides, it was Sylveren. Ollas wasn’t naïve enough to say sabotage never happened on campus, but a theft like this?
“You’re certain no one else knows about your private work?” Rai said.
Ollas felt Eunny glance at him as he shook his head. “I can’t be certain of who all might’ve seen it, but everyone I’ve talked to about it in depth is here.”
“I haven’t heard anyone mention them either,” Zhenya added.
Rai frowned, one long finger tapping against his crossed arms as he thought. “We’ll need to return to keeping the buildings locked at all times. You have your keys?” He gave Ollas and Zhenya questioning looks.
They both nodded.
“Good. I doubt the thieves will return, seeing as they came with single-minded purpose, but we should all be on alert just in case.” Rai shook his head, nostrils flaring with his frustrated sigh. “I’ll speak to the dean about getting the Sentinels involved.”
Rai and Zhenya left in search of the dean and greenhouse manager respectively. Ollas moved to grab a broom, but Eunny’s hand on his arm stopped him.
“Ollas,” she said, hesitance in her voice and in the way she slowly raised her eyes to him. “What I said… What you heard, I?—”
He’d been a fool to think their comfort with one another was indicative of something more. That she could ever want it. That she could ever fall in love with someone like him. Only lust. But hadn’t he said he was in for whatever she’d give him? Seeing the shame on her face, the guilt that he’d wanted so badly to erase… Ollas had never wanted to be the cause for it. Not again, anyway.
He couldn’t take back his foolish choice all those years ago, letting his selfish desire to feel her healing magic override the signs of her exhaustion. Eunny had made it clear that he couldn’t change her mind over her long-held guilt.
But he could do something now, and keep the past from repeating.
