Chapter 21

T he Valley lay under a blanket of snow when Dae arrived shortly before the winter solstice. It welcomed her back, a sense of calm and belonging settling in with every breath of its chill air. Home, her mind said, as it hadn’t for the duration of her stay in Grae Port.

Clad in her new cloak, she indulged in a plain cart ride from Sylvan’s small port up to the university. The roads were manageable thanks to a network of weather wards, in contrast to the campus itself, which was a mix of untouched regions and some pathways trod down to slush. The Initiate levels and a significant number of the graduate students and staff had left for the winter break, leaving the grounds cozy and quiet.

Ezzyn wasn’t back. Dae knew he wasn’t due to return until term started, yet still she went by Belle Complex, just in case. Noted the darkened windows, small house sealed up tight, a pristine layer of snow between where she stood on the path and his door. Only then did she make her way back to town to spend the rest of the holiday with Eunny and her family.

“I haven’t made one of these in years,” Dae said, accepting a piece of pre-cut paper marked with folding lines.

“It’s a tradition here. Everyone makes one who wants to, not just the Islanders,” Eunny said. “The stationers’ shop has been getting the paper ready for weeks.”

They were seated at Auntie Yerina’s kitchen table, a stack of the paper in the middle waiting to be folded into small boats upon which a recipient would write a wish for the new year.

Dae inspected her thin paper, admiring the subtle inclusions of leaves and other fibers. Blue and golden strands of silk shone amongst the matte cream paper, symbolizing the aspect of water, Jin, the Everflow, She of the Golden Waters. A soft hum of magic tickled Dae’s senses, though she couldn’t tell where the innate arcane quality of the paper ended and the separate, external spell began. Each paper boat would float on the lake for a short time before dissolving, sending the wish skyward in a breath of sparks. It was a popular ritual in the Radiant Isles, one that Dae’s family had done for many years when she and Calya were young.

Somewhere along the way, it had stopped, replaced by Winterfest parties amongst the Avenors’ social group, traipsing about the capital from gathering to gathering. It had been fun at first, then more of a chore. Even at the height of solstice balls and other festivities, Dae hadn’t felt the sense of community embodied by the town of Sylvan. In fairness, she doubted many places could match it.

They set to work assembling the boats, Dae filling Eunny in on the latest development with her financial freedom and its cost.

Eunny shook her head, dislike pinching her face. “Sounds like our mothers are taking notes off each other.” She set a finished boat on the table. “I’m glad the money issues are finally resolved, but dangling the HNE job? And then saying you’re out of the family?” Eunny tsked.

“At least Calya is managing. I can always fall back on her if this mage thing doesn’t work out.”

Eunny scoffed. “Your classes are going fine. Your job is better than fine. You’re going to get the Rhell trip. Unless you—”

“You’re going to jinx me.”

“Unless you fuck around this term,” Eunny continued, “Adept One is yours.”

“I’m still weak on general applications, and even if I get top marks in the seminar, it’s not a guarantee for progression.”

“Listen, I was going to be nice, but we’re not letting your anxiety get wings.” Eunny leaned forward, leveling a half-folded boat at Dae. “It’s really hard to fail the tier one screening exam. Admin wants you to stay. They want your money.”

Dae laughed, comforted despite herself. Eunny’s cynical pragmatism aside, Sylveren’s pass-fail system for Adept levels compared to Grae University’s minimum score did remove some of the pressure to succeed. Some.

She folded one edge of her paper, fingers laboring over the crease long after it was crisp enough. “Not sure how much this will matter if I can’t get any of my spells to work.”

Beyond the proposal for the Rhell trip, she was already building research plans around targeted spells and ice work, and how her research could integrate with other cleansing projects. Ideas for Adept Two already filled her head, inspiring excitement and dread for the tier one exams at the end of term.

Eunny gestured at the volume of paper they still needed to fold. “Did you want to tell me about it?”

Dae hesitated. Eunny’s magic, the loss of it, would be hard to talk around, given the subject. Even though Dae spent all her time here studying Eylle’s poison, their conversations had never strayed toward the failed diplomatic mission or what exactly had gone down then. They always remained firmly in the lane of Dae’s research, of ecological restoration. Effects on the earth. Nothing about healing, or anything that related too closely to Eunny’s former affinity.

But Eunny didn’t flinch from magic, either, for all that she didn’t have use of her own anymore. She’d been so excited for Dae in regards to getting the scholarship and coming to Sylveren.

“I, um, I actually had a question about mending spells and how they work. If you don’t mind? I absolutely understand if you don’t want to—” Dae babbled.

Eunny gave a long, exaggerated groan. “Goddess break, just ask. I live in the Valley, Dae. I’m not going to melt at the thought of magic.”

“I know. I know, it’s just…”

“Yea. I know.”

Eunny’s relaxed manner wavered, something bleak creeping into her expression. An echo of all the things they didn’t say, acknowledged but never analyzed. They simply moved on and stayed with the lighter side of the present.

“It doesn’t pain me to talk about it, so ask.” Eunny settled back in her chair, hands locking behind her head. “How can the light inform the ignorance of the elements?”

Dae snorted, dispelling the specks of tension trying to grow between them. “My targeted spellwork is trying to isolate the traces of poison in the land but not freeze everything around it. Healing works along similar lines, doesn’t it?”

Eunny frowned, mouth twisting. “It depends.”

“You sound like your mother.”

“How dare you.”

Dae laughed, hands raising in surrender.

“Like I said, it depends,” Eunny said with exaggerated patience. “Type of injury, the patient, the conditions. But, sure, principles are similar. For poison, it’s usually more efficient to flush it out if it’s a wound. Ingested is—” Eunny cut herself off. Hunched her shoulders, the bleak look back on her face. “Ingested is bad if you don’t have personal defenses.”

Mind already tumbling over Eunny’s words, Dae gave an absent wave of her hand. Flooding the earth wouldn’t work, but—

“Float,” she murmured. “Flush! We could flush the iced poison to the surface. Ez wouldn’t need to burn the whole thing.”

She abandoned boatmaking and dove for her bag, scribbling notes before the fragmented ideas left her. Once she’d filled a few pages of the small notebook, she returned to Eunny at the table, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Ez, huh?” Eunny propped her chin on her hands.

“It’s—this is about the research project. It pertains to both our work.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Eunny said, leaning closer. “But you’re really gone. You like him. More than this casual sex thing you two are doing.”

Dae’s mouth opened, the words to refute Eunny’s comment quick in her mind. They didn’t emerge.

“You do. See, I knew it, I said this would— Why the face? What’s wrong about it?” Eunny said, jokes giving way to sincerity. “Man has hearts in his eyes for you.”

“He does not.”

“The feelings are mutual. Question is, do you want something real with him?”

Dae folded a new boat. She had fallen for Ezzyn without meaning to, and an absurdly large part of her hoped Eunny’s claim was true. That the mutual attraction had become something more. It would mean so many complications, chances for things to go wrong, become awkward. Realities and likelihoods that should scare her. Yet it was hope she felt most of all.

“I don’t know what real is,” she said.

Eunny nudged a pencil across the table. “Why not ask the divine?”

Dae laughed. “What are you wishing for?”

“Peace,” Eunny said. “For myself against my mother. The world, too, but I presume the Empyrean Court already knows that.”

Dae mulled over what to write. Ezzyn’s name was too painfully schoolgirl, but love felt too broad.

In the end, when her boat sailed on the lake to the mouth of the river, her wish for wisdom drifted up to the sky.

The day before the spring term started, Dae received a meeting request from Vaadt. A university page found her in Ezzyn’s lab, which Dae had taken to haunting in his continued absence. It wasn’t completely aimless work, since she could complete preparations for the trials they’d discussed. There were the official experiment journals to update, memos for the invested parties within the appropriate university departments to write. All valid reasons to spend most of the remainder of her holiday break in the lab. The truth of it was that she wanted to see Ezzyn, and waiting outside of his house wasn’t an option. That he still had not returned nor sent any communication as to why was beginning to cause her concern. She couldn’t remember if they’d agreed on a date by which both would return to campus, her mind only recalling an unhelpful “before term starts,” but this was verging on extreme.

After thanking the messenger, Dae packed up her things and made her way to the water side of the Towers. Everything about Vaadt and their office appeared the same. Dae couldn’t decide if it was an air of timelessness or that Vaadt never seemed to leave Sylveren. Perhaps both. The Valley had a way of doing that. She herself had been eager to return, too, and though Ezzyn was a primary motivator, the comfort of being back amongst the wind and rain couldn’t be discounted.

“Ah, Miss Helm, come in.” Vaadt looked up when she knocked on the open door. “Would you mind closing the door?”

Dae complied, taking a seat in front of Vaadt’s desk. It was unsettling, for she couldn’t recall ever being asked to meet with such privacy. The door was always open during their previous meetings, and even the one-on-one lessons for her targeting drills could’ve been viewed by anyone passing through. But Vaadt didn’t appear concerned or grim as they set their current work aside and retrieved a small pile of various papers bound together with string.

Untying it, Vaadt shifted two thin folios and a sealed envelope from the top of the pile, removing a loose sheet from those remaining. “Congratulations. Your proposal has been chosen for the Rhell field trip.” They slid the paper across the desk. “This should cover the details on the expectations and arrangements.”

Dae lit up. “Thank you, Professor!” She accepted the paper, scanning it quickly before glancing back up. “Will there be a list of the others going?”

“Yes, once everyone has been notified. We’ll post it at the next seminar and have an informational meeting after.”

Only a few more days to wait. Dae was close to bursting with the desire to know if Zhenya had gotten in, but managed to summon a modicum of self-control.

“I’ve also had word from Sor’vahl,” Vaadt said, tapping the papers they’d first removed.

Dae froze. Eagerness for news washed up against unspecified dread.

“There’s been a complication in Rhell, and we’ll be moving the trip to focus efforts in the town of Den’olm. There will be more details at the informational meeting, but Sor’vahl won’t be returning to Sylveren before the trip.”

“Oh,” Dae said, voice faint. “Okay.” Disappointment bubbled up. It was selfish of her—of course he was needed at home. It didn’t make sense to make the trip back and forth. She’d see him in Rhell in a little over a month anyway. Ridiculous, being upset. But she was. She tamped down on the emotion only because she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Professor Vaadt.

“He sent along instructions for the lab.” Vaadt indicated the folios. Their hand paused over the envelope, which was not a business style but stationery. Vaadt’s eyes cut to Dae. “And a personal note.”

Dae squirmed in her chair. “He’s very … polite.”

“I’ve known Ezzyn Sor’vahl for several years. While we aren’t close, he isn’t one to take private interests lightly,” Vaadt said. “Given both of your backgrounds, I trust that pertinent conversations have taken place?”

“Yes,” Dae said with more confidence than she felt. “But … just to be clear, you’re implying…?”

“That the two of you are in agreement on the boundaries of personal and professional, and when they may and may not crossover,” Vaadt said, with a frankness Dae envied.

“Yes, though we may be renegotiating in the future.” Dae’s cheeks heated.

“Practical of you.” Vaadt busied themself clearing away the rest of the field trip paperwork. “With this latest setback, it would be prudent for you to consider business opportunities while in Den’olm. Nothing like hands-on experience to bolster your pitch.”

“My pitch?”

“How your work could benefit the area. Any sweeteners you bring to the table, whether that’s getting investors in Rhell to consider you, or benefits you bring back to the capital or your home company.” Vaadt gave her a severe look. “Don’t pass on an opportunity to use your connections, Miss Helm.”

“Right.” A sinking feeling dragged at Dae’s stomach. “Was there anything else?”

“No, that will be all. You can leave the door open.”

Thanking Vaadt again, Dae went back into the hall, her assortment of papers clutched in her hands. She made it down to the atrium before stopping to read Ezzyn’s letter, such as it was.

Anadae,

I’m sorry I couldn’t come back. Den’olm is almost lost. Implement the new parameters I sent—will explain more later.

A few squiggles stood in for his signature. Three sentences, that was all he had. But if the poison had spread, no, it made sense that he was preoccupied. Den’olm was an important defensive point.

Their arrangement didn’t entitle her to anything more, and she would’ve done the same if their roles were reversed, right? She’d fallen behind on correspondence with Calya, and that was for her finals, not trying to salvage a town.

But his letter, those few lines, Dae wanted more. Wanted something real, as Eunny had said. The Rhell trip couldn’t come soon enough.

“Dae! You’re going, too!” Zhenya hurried across the atrium floor.

Dae jumped, hastily stuffing Ezzyn’s note into her bag. “Going?”

“To Rhell!” Zhenya bobbed up and down in excitement, then flushed, shrinking inward. Abashed, she whispered, “I asked Professor Rai.”

Zhenya’s excitement was contagious, pushing back Dae’s turmoil. She banished worries about Ezzyn and the vague discomfort Vaadt’s questions had planted to the back of her mind.

“I’m so glad you’re going.” Dae hugged Zhenya. “I was too scared to ask Vaadt.”

“He probably wasn’t supposed to tell me,” Zhenya said, her grin turning sheepish. “Want to go into town and celebrate with Eunny?”

They trekked into Sylvan, and for the rest of the evening, Dae didn’t let herself think of Ezzyn or business relations again.