Chapter 13
On Monday, Professor Showen avoids eye contact with me during our class, and it’s clear she’s exhausted from the purple bags under her eyes and her frequent yawning during lecture.
In my following class with Dr. Lowry, I chicken out of asking him if he knew my father due to his particularly impatient attitude during class.
Callista also makes a beeline to me immediately after class has ended, asking me about how I enjoyed the party on Saturday, and I get caught up in conversation with her.
I do, however, take the opportunity to talk to Dr. Hagan after my Naturalism Spellwork class. During our class time, we create medicinal salves for minor injuries containing various combinations of calendula, comfrey, lavender, yarrow, and arnica. I can hardly focus because I’m so nervous.
She’s returning the herb jars we used today to their rightful places on the massive shelves, her paisley-patterned skirt swishing as she twists around.
“Excuse me,” I say, which seems to startle her out of whatever mental space she’s gotten lost in.
She looks at me expectantly, but not unkindly, with wide eyes behind thick glasses.
“I—I was wondering if you remember a man named Cameron Langley. He would have been your student about twenty-five to thirty years ago.” I hand her the picture I photocopied from the yearbook in the library earlier.
She squints down at it, studying his face, before handing it back to me. “I vaguely remember the face. Why?”
Disappointment sinks like a stone in my chest. “He was my father. He passed away before I was born, and I just found out a couple days ago that he attended Arcadia. I managed to figure out who was here at the academy at the same time as him, so I’ve been checking to see if any of those people remember him. ”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, dear. I can’t say I really remember any details about him. Such a shame for death to come for him so quickly, though.”
“It’s okay. Thanks for talking to me about it, at least. See you Wednesday.” I leave the classroom after she bids me goodbye then begins humming to herself softly as she returns to her task.
What a strange woman.
Tuesday arrives with a storm that batters the island from the west, the rain lashing against windows and cascading from the rain gutters.
Students huddle beneath umbrellas that do little to keep away the side-swept rain while others sprint between buildings with hoods up or backpacks held over their heads.
I’m drenched by the time I reach the Natural Sciences building for my ten o'clock class with Dr. Vale.
Water drips from my hair down the back of my neck, and my slacks are plastered to my legs.
My only solace is that my waterproof jacket has held up against the rain, so at least some part of me is dry.
Other students arrive in similar states of disarray, muttering complaints about the weather and the inadequate covered walkways between buildings. As people file in, the classroom begins to take on the musty smell of damp clothes plastered to warm bodies.
Dr. Vale enters five minutes before ten, completely dry, though I wonder if he’s been hiding out in his office all morning to avoid the rain. It’s somewhere in this building, according to the syllabus.
He begins the lecture as soon as the clock strikes ten, talking about plants as open thermodynamic systems. I take precise notes, ignoring the fact that AJ is beside me, sprawled out in his chair and casually tapping his pencil against an empty notebook page while he listens.
At the end of the lecture, Dr. Vale states, “Remember, today we begin lab work. We’ll be meeting in the greenhouse in fifteen minutes, so take this time to make sure you’re prepared. I’ll see you there.”
With that, the students file out, and I walk with AJ and Joanna the long way through the halls to get to the greenhouse with minimal rain.
“Any clue what sort of lab we’re doing today?” I ask them.
AJ shakes his head. “Nope. It’s kind of ridiculous that he doesn’t tell us, honestly.”
“It’s intentional that he doesn’t want us to be able to prepare for the first lab. He wants to be able to test our current knowledge and skill level. I’m sure he’ll give us more information to prepare for the following ones.”
As if my worry wasn’t already rising steadily, Joanna’s statement is enough to spike it. Stupidly, a part of me had been hoping there’d be some sort of non-magical demonstration followed by a non-magical lab assignment, but that doesn’t sound like it’s the case.
I can do this, I tell myself, though I’m not sure if I believe it.
The entire class filters into the greenhouse over the course of the next fifteen minutes, the rain tapping against the ceiling and cascading down the glass walls like slow teardrops.
When Dr. Vale enters—right on time, as always—the chatter dies down and we all wait for his further instructions.
He gestures to the front wall of the greenhouse where multiple wooden work tables hold small planter pots. The tables are positioned a few feet away from any of the other planters or garden beds. “I’d like each of you to stand before one of these plants.”
We collectively make our way back to the workstations and each pick a plant. The pots contain a small sprout, only a couple inches tall, with tiny cotyledon leaves.
“I’ll be observing you today to gauge your level of control regarding your Affinity use.
These are sunflowers, or Helianthus annus.
Before we work with any potentially dangerous plants, I want to see how you handle something more innocuous.
All I want you to do right now is encourage one week’s worth of growth in your plant over the next half hour.
Utilize your knowledge of how plants work at a cellular level to guide your magic.
Once you do that, call me over and we’ll discuss next steps. ”
“That’s it?” I hear Joanna whisper to AJ, and he shrugs.
My stomach sinks with dread. This is what I tried to do back at home, and I only managed to kill whatever I touched.
“Remember,” he adds, “the growth should happen slowly and in a deliberate, measured process. Doing it more quickly than the half hour you’re allotted risks damaging the internal systems of the plant.
Support, but don’t force. If we impose our will upon nature too strongly, it no longer becomes a natural process but an artificial one. Any questions?”
I stay quiet. Everyone around me looks relaxed and relieved at the supposedly easy assignment, and I have to remind myself that I’m here for a reason. How hard could it really be?
“On that note, proceed with your task. I’ll be walking around and checking in,” Dr. Vale states.
Everyone moves, some cupping their hands around the pot, some dipping their fingers into the soil. I decide to follow AJ’s lead, resting my fingertips on top of the soil before attempting to feel the life of the plant.
It only takes a moment before there’s a small tug in my chest as I hone in on the current of life in the small sprout before me. I attempt to control the flow of magic from my fingertips, letting through a trickle of it rather than an uncontrollable deluge like before.
Over the course of the next few minutes, the plant grows almost imperceptibly, and I’m able to relax, if only a little. I’m doing it. Some of the students have begun to chat again, apparently not requiring the intense focus I do for this task.
Dr. Vale meanders amongst the tables after about ten minutes, checking in on each of the students’ progress.
When he gets closer to me, I can’t help the flutter of nerves in my stomach.
I tell myself it’s just because I’m being graded on my magic for the first time ever, but a part of me knows that’s not true.
I’m thinking about the last time we were in here together, the intense way he stared at me, the semi-flirtatious conversation we’d had.
He takes a step closer, and I become distracted by the same question I’ve had since that night.
Why didn’t he simply tell me he was a professor?
Annoyance flares in my chest, and in an instant, the steady trickle of magic surges, flooding through me, and whatever control I’d been using to contain it breaks.
The energy pours out of me and into the plant, which grows almost a foot in a matter of seconds.
I panic, lifting my hands immediately, but it’s not soon enough. Despite the fact that I’m not touching it anymore, the plant continues to grow, latching onto my unbridled power, and I have no idea how to stop it.
Every eye in the room is locked on me, and Dr. Vale is at my side in an instant.
I stand there mortified but powerless to stop the growth.
The stem of the plant explodes upward, leaves unfurling at an impossible speed, and yellow petals blooming in an instant.
Students around me gasp, and I want nothing more than to crawl beneath the dirt and disappear.
When the sunflower reaches full maturity, the seeds that make up the center of the flower explode outward, shooting every which way and causing students to duck their heads and cover their eyes. It’s a grand finale in my very public embarrassment, and the silence that follows is deafening.
“Well, that was certainly an interesting display. Ms. Harver, could you meet me outside, please?”
I nod at Dr. Vale’s request and keep my eyes down as I rush out of the greenhouse. This will probably be the simplest task I’m assigned all year, and I couldn’t even do that right. Everyone will know now that I’m a fraud, including Dr. Vale.
He steps outside to join me a moment later. I don’t make eye contact as he joins me on the wooden bench.
“What happened?” he asks simply.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I thought I had control of it, but then something inside me snapped and I couldn’t restrain the power like I had been. And it probably goes without saying at this point, but I’m new to magic.”
“How new?”
“I knew nothing about it until a little over a month ago.”