“So we have everything to make a cure,” Anadae said, taking up Calya’s branded hand. “Ready to have this off?”
“Goddess, yes.” Calya glanced at Lowe, a question in her eyes.
Lowe nodded once. “I’ll be there.”
Calya turned back to her sister. “How soon can we leave?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Winterfest festivities were over by the time Calya returned to the Valley of Sylveren, though the decorations were still up. The zenith of the holiday had occurred the day they set sail, and Froley had given them a grand sendoff at the Pelf. Some kind of celebration was also held on the ship as the final days of the ten-day holiday passed, though Calya missed whatever they were.
Without a big, gruff… attentive ranger to keep her engaged during the trip, Calya saw no reason to decline Eunny’s potent anti-nausea brew. The ship made good time without any storms to slow it down, arriving just as the sleepiness worked its way out of Calya’s system.
She spent a week in Renstown, meeting with the Order of Sylveren and ranking members of the Sentinels to provide an initial report of all that had transpired in Desmond’s Landing. They outlined the next steps in their plan to bring charges of treason against the Coalition, and Calya left the whirlwind of meetings feeling cautiously optimistic.
The trade organization had always loomed so large in her world—a world so narrowly confined to Graelynd, she would admit, that she’d never given the protectors of the Valley much credit. The Valley tended to keep to itself, and she’d foolishly viewed that reluctance to get involved in petty dramas as a bent toward pacifism and weakness. And maybe some of that was true, but clearly, the Valley didn’t fuck around when it came to Eylle’s poison. The Coalition would soon find that out, much to their detriment.
When Calya wasn’t up at the university, the rest of her time was spent on penning a lengthy report to her father. But at least she had the Helm Naval office all to herself. Wembly had somehow gotten wind of her exploits and run before she returned. He’d had enough morals to not involve himself fully in Brint’s treason, as it turned out. But to stymie Calya in ways that suited Brint’s needs? No problem. Calya didn’t know which angered her more, his betrayal or that all it had cost was a few thousand gold crowns and a promise of Coalition favor.
After spending several days drafting letters and catching up on all she’d missed, she was ready for a break. When the chance to escape to Sylveren for a reason other than meetings was offered, Calya jumped on it.
The block of poison was positively light in the Valley. If anything, the glazed, ice-like substance encasing the blob had shrunk, no longer an even rectangle but misshapen as though it had begun to thaw.
Whatever remained of the Child, aspect of the Valley of Sylveren, it was not pleased by Calya’s return. It had never liked her, and her bringing a physical manifestation of Eylle’s hate went over poorly. The spirit of the Valley vented its displeasure, sending freezing rain into Calya’s face as she disembarked in the small town of Sylvan.
She pulled her cloak’s hood farther over her head, giving her sister an exasperated look as they met on the dock. “I’m doing this place a favor. Could you please convince it to calm down?”
Anadae put her arm around Calya’s shoulders. “I’ve got a carriage waiting.”
They were dropped off outside of the Grove, the giant maple tree that served as home to the Sylveren earth mages. The foliage maintained its autumnal coloration year-round, though a single crimson leaf drifted down as Calya walked beneath its canopy. She caught it in her hand, admiring the fine veins and how they glimmered even on a dreary, gray day. She gasped softly as the leaf disintegrated and turned into a handful of golden motes of light that floated up to join the others always drifting around the tree.
“This gets my vote as nicest place in the Valley,” Calya said.
Anadae laughed. “We’ll make a believer of you yet.”
They continued on to the greenhouse complex, where a small audience awaited them. The greenhouse was one of the larger structures, with a long wall broken up into multiple workstations comprising the front half of the room. The back half was compartmentalized into half a dozen antechambers, which Calya presumed were reserved for higher-level mages. Everything was clean and fancy, the gardening equipment neatly organized, with handles and blades polished. Not new, but clearly well maintained and of quality. A blooming vine climbed throughout the building, present but never in the way. Its oblong leaves were a glossy green, and white flowers filled the air with a delicate citrus scent.
Ollas and Eunny stood near the vine’s anchor pot, chatting quietly with a tall, older Hanyeok man Calya vaguely remembered as one of the department heads. Zhenya stood at a counter, grinding pigment, a few dried plant stems with blade-shaped leaves next to her. Occasional gold sparks flew up as she worked. Inside one of the antechambers, Ezzyn was putting finishing touches on the wards surrounding a large tub of corrupted soil with a glass row cover over the top. Even at Calya’s distance, the oiliness of the poisoned bits was visible through the clear panes, at odds with the crumbly, dull gray of the dirt.
Movement at the far end of the greenhouse caught her eye. Lowe came forward. Her first time seeing him since they’d left the Landing.
Calya dumped the leather bag on the counter, not hearing whatever her sister said as she went to meet him. “You’re here.”
“I promised I would be,” he replied. “Are you sure you’re ready for this so soon? Your ship?—”
“Slept most of the way. Alone,” she added with a smirk. “Nothing worth staying awake for.”
“Careful. You’re beginning to sound sentimental.”
“I meant wares from House Oleander. None aboard.”
Lowe’s mouth formed a wry smile. “Were you looking?”
Eunny interrupted before Calya could reply. “Hey, lovebirds, big stakes here. Caly, come unbind yourself from the evil rock. Nev and I are due in Talihn.”
Rolling her eyes, Calya turned back to her friends, willing her blush away. “What do you need me to do?”
Ezzyn stuck his head out of the antechamber. “Would you bring it in here, please?”
