Chapter 28
Hadrian
I didn’t sleep a wink last night, not even with Bluebell tucked against me in my nest. I’m sure it didn’t help that Petra was snoring on the sofa, and since my apartment’s one big room, I could hear every stuttered intake of breath…all night.
What I really wanted was time alone with my mate—we’ve got to figure out some better sleeping arrangements. I’m thankful the ranch has multiple bedrooms, and Petra can pick from any of the available ones. My timeline for completing renovations on the house needs to move up.
Fast.
I follow Petra, who’s got her arm looped through Bluebell’s, as we walk into the skyball stadium where Jasper’s master’s test will take place.
Anxiety prickles across my skin, sending waves of uncomfortable heat along my wing bones.
Those nerves poke along the bond, too, and I hate that Bluebell can feel it.
Worry over his mindset is the reason we didn’t tell him sooner, and it didn’t work out well anyhow.
All I know is, I’m certain that not showing up would be even worse.
When we appear in the stands, his parents and the other Jays look up with concern on their faces.
Jace waves us over, but the rest of the Tuckers look a little shell-shocked, especially when they note Petra holding on to Bluebell.
I risk a glance at the field to find Jasper standing there with the test proctors, glaring daggers our way.
I shoot him a quick smile, then look back at his family.
Taking our seats, we make small talk, but it’s awkward as hells despite how delighted Petra seems to be to see her “uncles.”
When my sister stops talking the Jays’ ears off, I tap Jack on the shoulder with my wing. “How was he last night?”
Jack shakes his head, running both hands through his black waves. “Drunk mess most of the night. Wouldn’t talk to any of us. He just went out to that old tree fort we built when we were kids and sat there ‘til this morning. He rolled in for breakfast, but he’s barely spoken two words.”
Oz, Lemon, and Furyon appear then and find spots next to us in the bleachers.
Jack waves at them and then shoots me a half-hearted smile. “How come you didn’t just tell us? We’ve always thought of you as our brother, but we’d have…tried to understand. I would, at least.”
I frown. “We would have, but we didn’t want to spring it on Jasper before this.” I wave at where Jasper’s talking to the proctors on the field.
“That didn’t exactly work out,” Jack mutters.
“Hush, it’s starting,” Bluebell says quietly, hands clasped in her lap as she leans onto her thighs.
“What’s gonna happen?” Petra asks loudly.
Just then, one of the proctors, a big troll male, presses his fingers to his ear and begins to speak, his voice echoing loudly toward us.
“Welcome to Jasper Alan Tucker’s third-level mastery of green engineering final presentation.
This is the last step toward officially proclaiming Mister Tucker as a Master-Level Green Witch.
In order to pass this series of tests, he will need to grow a field of local cacti, including at least prickly pear and spinystar.
The second test is to grow the plants to a great size.
He’ll then be required to transmogrify them into anything of his choosing, remembering any particular local celebrations or events where such magic could be used.
The final two tests are surprises chosen by the proctors at the time, so details were not provided ahead. ”
He smiles over his shoulder at Jasper, lifting his arms wide. “Let us begin with the first three bits of the test, and then we will announce the final two sections.”
I’ve never been to a masters-level green magic presentation before, although I’ve seen Jasper use his magic hundreds of times. Some of these skills are things I know he’s struggled with, although I know he’s been preparing for this day.
The proctor returns to Jasper, and the three speak together for a moment.
Both proctors shake Jasper’s hand, and then he steps away from them, closing his eyes as he steps his legs apart and looks at the ground.
My heart is in my throat as he opens his hands and flips them so his palms face the ground.
“Come on, Jazzy,” Elena mutters.
Next to me, Bluebell’s stiff and silent, eyes focused on her brother.
The ground in front of us begins to shimmy and shake, and a smile tips Jasper’s lips upward.
Cracks streak across the dirt in every which direction, and pale green appears.
Slowly but steadily the spots of green become small mounds, then larger mounds until miniature cacti appear.
They grow larger and larger as Jasper remains focused on the earth at his feet.
I suspect we’re all holding our breath as the cacti shoot up and unfurl, spreading their arms out until they’re perfectly formed.
“Halt,” calls out the troll proctor. “Well done, Mister Tucker.”
Jasper looks over at us with a smile, but when he sees me, it falls, and he looks away.
“First test is a success,” the second proctor, a troll female, calls out. “Let the record show one of five is complete.”
The male troll marks something on a small notepad in his left hand.
Fuck, I’m nervous for Jasper even though he rocked that. I don’t like being at odds with him.
“Now, Mister Tucker, please grow the cacti field to three times its normal size.”
Jasper steps forward and places a hand carefully on the cactus closest to him, watching the plant. In the space between us, the cacti begin to bubble and grow until they’re stretching tall and wide, bumping into one another as they creak and groan.
When they’re at least three times their original size, the troll proctor calls for a halt again. The second test is marked as a pass.
The female proctor presses against her ear again so that when she speaks, we hear it over the field of cacti.
“For the third section of the test, Mister Tucker will transmogrify the cacti into something relevant to Pine Gulch as a haven. Points will be awarded for successful transmogrification as well as creativity.”
Jasper steps forward and walks into the middle of the field, picking his way carefully around them and avoiding the longest of the spines. Once he’s surrounded, he begins speaking under his breath again, palms facing the ground once more.
Once again, the cactus bubble and burgeon, growing taller and wider. Whatever they’re doing happens more slowly this time, and I start to worry that it's not working.
“It’s a mustang,” Bluebell says softly, pointing toward the cactus closest to us.
The moment she says it, I realize it’s true.
Each of the plants is growing taller and elongating.
They take shape slowly but surely, tendrils and leaves forming into forelocks and manes and tails and long, beautiful limbs.
Some of the horse shapes are standing, some are rearing, and it's then I realize just how masterful this artwork is.
At the edge of the field stands a big stallion, watchful over the herd just as he is with our local herd of mustangs. The smallest “mustangs” representing the foals are toward the center of the herd with the mares protectively around them. It’s just like how they behave in the wild.
My throbbing heart is in my throat as the entirety of the cactus field finishes growing into the shape of mustangs.
Jasper smiles and steps toward the proctors, who ask him questions, although we can’t hear from this far away. He points to several of the animals, smiling as he goes back and forth with the proctors.
After a few minutes of conversation, the male proctor presses his ear button and announces, “Test three has been passed with flying colors. This is one of the more stunning creations we’ve seen of late!
Let the record show that Mister Tucker has passed three of the five tests.
Only two remain, and these two are surprises—one from me and one from my co-proctor. ”
He gestures toward the second proctor, who steps forward with a smile.
“For the fourth test, I’d like Mister Tucker to create a list of the forty-two species of plant within range of his green magic.
I compiled my list earlier today. In order to pass this test, he will need to identify all forty-two varieties. ”
Jasper’s mouth drops open, and he looks between the proctors, huffing out a disbelieving laugh. The male claps him on the shoulder with an encouraging nod.
“You’ve got this, Jazzy,” Jack shouts. “Rock it, dude!”
Normally I’d shout for him too, but I’m worried about distracting him.
Jasper drops to his knees on the ground and places both hands on the dirt. Curling his fingers into it, he calls out species as he identifies them. “Butterfly weed, quaking aspen, columbine, lupine, blanket flower, frost aster.”
The Tuckers start cheering, and I join them as he gets all the way to forty identifications.
Chokecherry and bitterroot take him a few minutes to get, but when he murmurs the last plant, the female proctor shouts, “Well done, Mister Tucker! All forty-two identified, and rather quickly too! Excellent job!”
I breathe a sigh of relief as I risk a glance at Bluebell. She smiles softly up at me.
When I look back at the field, Jasper’s staring at us, smile gone.
The male proctor claps him on the back again.
“For the fifth and final test, I chose a practical application of green magic. Mister Tucker, it is possible to tell something of the life of a plant by using our magic to enhance our inner wisdom and sense of that plant. For example, you might ascertain that a plant was recently treated with a certain chemical or that it’s not regularly getting enough water. ”
Jasper smiles, but he’s thumping his fingers on his sides, a sure sign he’s nervous. This should be relatively easy for him because he does some form of this all day each day, reading the state of plant life. He’s got this.