“Plants draw strength from the earth—just as I do.”
And there it is. The real reason behind hisinterest. He doesn’t care about all the ways plants can be used as food or medicine. Or how they can beautify a space and cleanse the air. Or how they literally saved my people from starving to death on the Tomb Flats.No.To him, plants are just another potential source of power. Something else he can steal from the ground, since he and his father apparently don’t have enough power already.
Allowing him to watch me work would be a terrible idea—a betrayal to Earth Mother and the plants themselves. It could give him ideas. He could try to replicate my incantations, and with the luck he and Soren have, he’d probably succeed.
Except he isn’t asking to watch me grow bagrava. And the knowledge I stand to gain from watching him manage the mines could be far more useful than anything he might glean from watching me grow a few common herbs.
“Fine,” I tell Alaric. “I’ll show you a bit of plant magicafteryou’ve taken me to a jobsite.”
“But you’re literally knee-deep in the process now.” Alaric points at the planter again. “And it will take some time to arrange a visit to the mines without my father present—and with the right foremen on duty, who won’t alert the councilors.”
“Hopefully not too long. I won’t let you weasel your way out of your end of the bargain,” I warn as I lower my face to the earth and quietly begin to sing.
In Tashir, people often watched me work—Lewis, of course, and the other master gardeners—but it was also commonplace for other planters to lean over the stone walls and listen to the incantations as they passed. Their presence never gave me a second’s hesitation. Onthe contrary, it strengthened my performance and intensified my connection with Earth Mother—as if they were adding their voice to my prayers. But now, as I stumble through the opening stanza, I’m acutely aware of the tremor in my voice. I can feel Alaric’s judgmental gaze searing my back, and it’s all I can do to force the words through my clenched teeth.
It’s too much. Far too intimate a moment to share with someone like him. But before I can sit up and shoo Alaric away, the familiar tingling floods my bloodstream, and Alaric, the Fortress, and the rest of the world melts away, leaving only me, Earth Mother, and the newly planted seeds, trembling to life beneath the soil.
Even though I can’t see them, Ifeelthem writhing against their fleshy casings, swelling as Earth Mother’s strength pours through me like a sieve. With every stanza, the pressure builds until a soundlesspopjudders through my body, and I know, beneath the soil, the shoots have broken free from their pods.
I imagine the tiny plants curling to life like snakes. I picture them surging upward through the soil, hungry for that first glimpse of sun and sky. When I reach the chorus of my song, they punch through the surface in an explosion of green, and I know I’ve done more than enough to appease Alaric. His gasp of surprise fills the entire solarium. But still, I keep singing. Still, I keep coaxing. Urging the shoots to stretch higher until the song is over and fully grown herbs populate the entire planter.
I sit in their midst, sweating and panting, breathing in the sweet evergreen aroma of the lavender and the earthy-apple fragrance of the chamomile. For the first time since I arrived on the mountain, I feel at peace. My fingertips flutter through the velvety buds and down the ridged leaves, reveling in the thrum of new life in this cold, dead place. Savoring this beautiful reunion with Earth Mother after a long week apart.
It isn’t until Alaric gently claps that I remember he’s sharing in this sacred, private moment.
I wrap my arms around my chest and keep my gaze fixed firmly on the plants, mortified that I let myself get so carried away. But Alaric continues clapping, and when I finally glance up, he’s wearing an expression I’ve never seen before. His eyes are soft, his lips slightly parted. It’s the way you’d look at something impressive and fascinating andbeautiful, even.
The opposite of everything I am in his eyes.
I turn away to hide my burning cheeks and try to dredge up something terrible to say. Anything to shatter this moment. I’d much rather he slap me with a spiteful scowl and snide remark. I know how to defend against those attacks. But this. This feels even more insidious. Even more dangerous.
“Indira.” Alaric murmurs my name with too much reverence. “That was—”
“Quite enough for one day.” I stand abruptly and brush off my pants. “Find me when you’ve arranged my visit to a jobsite.”
“But—” Alaric’s vexingly handsome face contorts into a wounded frown that must render most women on the mountain into beet pulp. But not me. I turn and march across our solarium to my chamber door, praying he can’t hear my galloping heart.
“Indira, wait! I have so many questions!” he calls after me.
I slam the gemstone door behind me and lean against the sharp protrusions, gulping back air. Certain I’ve made a fatal mistake.
Sharing my gift was supposed to help me break through Alaric Alaverdi’s defenses. But I have a terrible, overwhelming feeling he somehow broke through mine.
Twenty-Two
“Miss Indira? Are you unwell?” Delphine calls through the door after knocking a second time. “You missed dinner.”
I missed breakfast and lunch too. I haven’t left this chamber all day.I told myself it was due to exhaustion; cultivating an entire planter of herbs from seed requires a staggering amount of energy.That’swhy I can’t bring myself to change out of my dressing gown or leave this warm cocoon of blankets. It has nothing to do with that look of wonder on Alaric’s face or the terrifying prospect of passing him in the halls.
“That’s it. I’m coming in,” Delphine calls out. A moment later, she bursts through the door with a tray full of food and darts worried glances at me as she arranges the saucers and bowls on the table. “Did something happen yesterday after we returned from the mountaintop?”
“I’m just tired. I spent the day cultivating herbs for Cloudia,” I tell her, conveniently omitting Alaric’s presence.
He was nothing but a fly on the wall. An annoyance.
“Really?” Delphine’s entire countenance brightens. “I didn’t expect you to start on Cloudia’s treatment so soon. I figured you’d wait until after we finished searching the caves, when you have answers about Rowenna.”
I firmly shake my head. “Living sisters should take priority. And itwould be unwise to sneak out again so soon. Someone might notice if I’m suddenly spending every evening in Elodie’s chambers. Which is just as well, since I’m worried the sleeping herbs will affect her mind. Drugging her once felt like a regrettable but necessary risk. Doing it again—potentially many times—feels wrong.”
