Chapter 12

T hey stared at one another. Calya blinked first, shifting from foot to foot as she peered over Dae’s shoulder. “So, can I come in?” Despite a disaffected tone, Calya’s words carried an undercurrent of nervous tension at odds with her usual confidence.

The defensive instinct in Dae softened. “Sure.” She unlocked the door and ushered her sister inside.

Calya stopped in the center of the floor, taking in every detail. While Dae’s room was still on the sparse side, especially in comparison to how Dae had lived with Brint back in the capital, she had accumulated an assortment of paraphernalia indicative of her life at Sylveren. A variety of books, both standard textbooks and a few of creative small press binding, graced her desk. They vied for space with paper tray organizers, a dip pen and trio of inks Zhenya had insisted she try, and her student-grade alembic. A teapot and mismatched cups courtesy of Eunny were crammed onto a small bookshelf, whose shelves were filled with more ingredients for her water spells than actual books.

Dae motioned for her sister to sit on the bed, breathing an inward sigh of relief that she’d decided to make it that morning. Dae seated herself on her desk chair, trying not to appear anxious.

They sat in uncomfortable silence again as Dae fished for an opening that didn’t sound too suspicious. Even seemingly benign questions now took on an accusatory tone in her head. What brings you here? Could sound too demanding. I wasn’t expecting you. Calya could interpret it as passive aggressive.

In truth, Dae wasn’t entirely sure if she meant it as such or not. Genuine curiosity was in play, but she couldn’t forget how they’d left things. Calya hadn’t exactly given Dae reason to expect a friendly visit, nor had Brint mentioned a word about her family during their brief greetings. Her mailbox had remained empty save for brief notes from Eunny or a random piece of campus news.

“Well, this is awkward.” Calya leaned back on Dae’s bed.

A faint smile pulled at Dae’s lips. “A bit.” Her voice softened. “How are you?”

Calya heaved a dramatic sigh. “Slightly nauseous. Got a late opening for a roundtrip on a windrunner for cheap, but they were out of seasick draughts.”

Dae winced. Windrunners were small and fast—and susceptible to every motion on the water. For a daughter of a multigenerational maritime family, Calya had a delicate constitution when it came to motion sickness. The Vanor River was hardly the wildest waterway, but the trip between Sylvan down to Grae Port’s harbor had its moments. Dae preferred the leisurely three-day trip on a more stable vessel, even if it took more than double the amount of time.

“Do you want to go by the student exchange?” Dae asked. “They’ll have plenty of grades of balance potions.”

Calya sat up, face animating. “Goddess yes.” She froze, hands curling in her lap. “But first … I should explain. Why I’m here, you know.” Her hand made a circle to indicate Dae’s room.

Dae waited, eyebrows rising gently in encouragement.

Calya bit her lip. “I need to talk to Brint about a joint project we have with AG. He keeps ignoring parts of my letters, so I figured I’d make it hard for him to dodge if it’s in person.”

“I’m not sure how much I can help,” Dae said, pushing back her feelings. “He doesn’t live in Vanas House. I’m not actually sure where he lives … we don’t interact much.”

“Really?” Calya gave her a confused look but smoothed it away with a dismissive shrug. “I’ve got his residence hall name. Asked at the main building. It’s how I knew where to find you.”

“Oh,” Dae mumbled, at a loss.

Calya sighed, scrubbing at her face as she had when they were young and she was nervous. “I also owe you an apology. I was awful to you when you left. I’m still mad you didn’t tell me about this at all.” She gestured about the room. Another dejected sigh followed. “Doesn’t excuse me being a brat. So … I’m sorry, Ana. I should’ve been more supportive.”

Shock left Dae speechless. She hadn’t known what to expect from Calya’s sudden appearance, but an honest apology hadn’t crossed her mind. Her fierce, stubborn little sister wasn’t one much for apologies, giving or receiving, preferring to move on and simply not make such mistakes or offenses again. Penitence through action rather than words was her favored byword.

Calya put her hands on her hips. “Sister dearest, I’m being vulnerable for you here.”

Her mock indignation spurred a laugh from Dae. She went to her sister and hugged her, holding on for a good beat past when Calya began to squirm.

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you before,” Dae said, taking her seat again. “I didn’t think I’d get in here, and I knew none of the family would approve.”

Calya started to argue but subsided with a wince. Her guilty expression affirmed Dae’s old concerns.

Dae shook her head, smile wry. “I didn’t have enough confidence to stand up for myself. Easier to just go. Hide.”

Considering that Calya was the opposite of Dae, opting to batter away at her problems even when avoidance might prove more tactful, she accepted Dae’s reasoning with a shrug.

“I’ll help however I can with HNE stuff if I’m able,” Dae said. Softly, she added, “If you want.”

“We’re managing. I may have dramatized how dire the straits you were leaving me in were,” Calya allowed. “And that’s on me. I was too caught up in my own work to see how much you’d been sidelined on projects to do the socialite thing.”

Dae’s laugh was bleak.

“But, I do expect first call on all your enchantments once you’re a master mage and all the reps from Central are trying to buy your time,” Calya said. It was partly in jest, Calya making up for her harsh lack of faith, but Dae appreciated it all the same.

“Let me get through Adept One first, then we’ll talk.”

Calya cast a critical eye around at the stacks of books and papers. “How are you getting on?”

“Well. Pretty well.” Dae pushed aside the doubts that threatened to well up when she thought of her recent poor grade. “I’m out of practice being a student, but I’m loving it here.”

“You don’t miss home?” Calya glanced out the window at the soggy gray sky and wrinkled her nose. “It’s so dreary here. And wet.”

“It’s a different pace,” Dae said. “But you get used to it. I feel like I’m finally doing something … fulfilling.”

When Calya remained skeptical, Dae stood. “Would you like a tour? Or we could go into town and see Eunny.”

“A tour would be nice. I have to meet Brint in an hour, so you’ll have to tell Eunny I said hi.”

They went back out, Calya grumbling about the rain and the wind. Dae simply laughed and took her on as sheltered a route as one could find at Sylveren. Which wasn’t much, though Calya was intrigued by the configuration of the Grove built in harmony with its mother tree.

Zhenya popped out of one of the greenhouses to press a few blue flowers upon Dae. Her greeting to Calya and explanation to Dae about the flowers as somehow pertinent to ice applications came out in a speedy run-on sentence, and then the young woman was darting back into the greenhouse.

“Friend of mine from the environmental restoration seminar. She’s very passionate,” Dae said by way of explanation.

Calya snorted, eyes cutting sidelong at her. “Dae?”

Dae blushed, keeping her own gaze forward as they walked to the student mercantile. “I go by that or my full name here.”

Calya made a noncommittal noise but didn’t inquire further. She was impressed by the student store, exclaiming at the variety of goods available. “It’s all made here? By students?” she said, scanning a shelf of balance potions. “And they’re safe?”

“Initiates have to be fourth-years to submit, and everyone below Magister One gets supervisor approval before anything is accepted,” Dae said. “Blue labels are Magister levels. Stick with those, they’ll taste better.”

Calya bought a blue-tagged potion and a small bag of Adept-made hard candies. She offered one to Dae as they left for a tour of the Towers. “Students make birth control here, too?”

The bottle Ezzyn had procured flashed through Dae’s mind. A pang of wistful, bittersweet desire hit. It had seemed such a thoughtful, gallant gesture at the time. Noticing her sister’s expectant look, Dae said, “They teach body magic here. It’s a practical application of the skill.”

“What do the nonmagical folk do?”

“Magic and mundane can both earn practical marks. Working with imbued materials is standard here. The school’s mission is to encourage thinking from both perspectives, see how the arcane and prosaic intertwine,” Dae said.

Calya crunched a sweet between her teeth as she laughed. “I’m not judging. This is far better than the stock stuff they have at Grae U.” In a too-calm voice, she said, “So, are the rumors about you and Brint getting back together true?”

Dae stopped, appalled. “No! Did he say—”

Calya shook her head. “He hasn’t. But there’s been gossip back home and in the opinions in the paper.”

Dae muttered under her breath. Why anyone back in Grae Port cared about her romantic life when she’d dropped from high society circles months back was beyond her.

“At least no one out here cares about that sort of thing.” Mostly. Dae hadn’t forgotten the swirl of rumors brought on by Brint’s sudden arrival, but the rest of campus had returned to its Valley bubble soon thereafter. “I thought I’d left it behind,” Dae said, annoyance coloring her tone.

“I think they’re following it for Brint, not you. No offense.”

Dae huffed but didn’t have a response. How quickly she’d forgotten the humbling of a sister’s bluntness.

“Tell me about this joint project with Avenor Guard,” she said as they took shelter in the Towers’ multi-level atrium.

“It’s a protection agreement for a new transport route to the northeastern districts. Security against sea piracy, since it runs up the coast. Our ships, Avenor’s personnel.” Calya selected another candy. “Brint suggested it. I think he’s involved with a project up there and wants to make sure they get regularly resupplied.”

“Seems straightforward enough. I’m surprised he’s giving you trouble,” Dae said. Helm Naval had many such agreements with a variety of defense companies and guilds, including Avenor Guard. Usually for moving their ships to buyers, but they ran a few trade routes of their own.

Calya flushed, looking down as she said, “I may have agreed to a lot of joint projects when you left. I was mad. Wanted to show that I could handle operations alone and the merger was still viable.”

“Caly.”

“I know. It’s mostly been fine, and I think Father is happy enough. This last project with Brint just fell through the cracks, and it’s a new route that he proposed. Most of the details came from him.” Calya glowered into the distance. “Which is why I’m annoyed he keeps giving me half-assed reports.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You seem to be doing all you can to distance yourself from the Helm name.”

Dae opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came. An unpleasant whisper of shame kept her quiet, guilty, for Calya wasn’t exactly wrong.

Calya groaned. “Sorry, that was— Forget I said it. I’m just annoyed at Brint.”

“I just … I want to make it on my own. Prove I can do it,” Dae said.

Calya gave her a bemused smile. “I know.” She got up, pulling her damp cloak back on. She made an aggrieved noise. “I can’t believe you like it here.”

Relief chased Dae’s anxious thoughts away. “I love it,” she declared as they went outside once again.

They passed under the safety of the atrium’s roof. Calya pointed off to the residence halls beside the House of Syvrine. “I’m that way. He’s in—”

Dae put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to know.”

“You’re the pinnacle of maturity, Dae.” Calya stuck her tongue out.

Dae hugged her. “Good luck with Brint. I’ll write you.”

“I expect to see some magic next time I see you.” Calya waved once, then struck off down the path, her hood pulled tight.

Warmth spread through Dae’s chest. Next time. Said with Calya’s signature self-assurance, no fuss. Considered it a given.

They hadn’t been close in years, but Dae hadn’t realized how the loss of even a more sedate sibling bond had emptied her until she felt it restored. A cloud to her mood she hadn’t noticed was now gone, leaving an emotional, joyous buzz in its wake.

Movement across the courtyard caught her eye. Ezzyn.

Without thinking—about their strained association or the smile lighting up her face—Dae waved.

Twice. Then remembered that they weren’t friendly. Barely even spoke.

Her hand froze in the air. The abrupt, abnormal greeting had brought Ezzyn to a standstill, a confused frown furrowing his brow.

Dropping her arm back to her side, Dae spun around and hurried back to her house.