42. Chapter Forty-Two Bahira
Chapter Forty-Two: Bahira
L ast night after my discovery of the new plant life in either Haylee’s or Erick’s bottle, I cried on the floor of my workshop for a long while. It wasn’t the first time tears had fallen there, but they were the first tears not born of frustration. Going from the lowest of lows to the mountaintop of highs had left me feeling emotionally spent. When I awoke this morning, I found a rose waiting for me outside of my bedroom door with a note from Daje, and reality came crashing back into me. It wasn’t even important, just a few words about how beautiful I looked last night, but I’m frustrated that I can’t even get the time he allotted to consider his ultimatum without getting input from him. Probably not a good feeling to have for a man I’m considering marrying.
I groan internally, the weight of this decision stealing all of my focus. There is a different kind of safety in marrying him, one that pulls on my heart a little stronger than anything else. I won’t ever have to question if he is choosing me because he truly loves me or because he can get something else out of it: status, recognition, bragging rights. Or any other myriad of reasons that may make a male decide that being a magicless princess’ consort is worth it. With Daje, we grew up together and his father is already on the council. He wouldn’t have anything to gain except for me. I know that his feelings for me are true and born of something that began while we were children. It is my side of the relationship that is a struggle.
There is also a chance he might get chosen as the mage to go to the shifter isle, and my stomach twists unexpectedly at that. Perhaps that would provide a loophole to this ultimatum. Unlikely, but not impossible. It would certainly give me more time to figure out what I want and what I am willing to lose. My lips flutter as I blow out an exasperated breath and return my attention back to the magnifier.
I click the next glass lens into place, adjusting one of the knobs on the side to clarify the enlarged image before I peer down with one eye through the scope. When I look at the dead leaf laying on the slide, it takes two more levels of magnification before I can see them on a cellular level. The cells of the brown leaves have no movement, the normally hexagonal shape of the cell walls crumbled and shriveled in. Sliding my journal and spelled pen over, I write the magnification level and descriptions down, and then replace the slide with one of a freshly picked healthy leaf not treated by magic. The cell walls are plump and bright green, the healthy chloroplasts moving within. Jotting down that observation, I then grab the slide containing a leaf that is spelled with my father’s magic. It has been two days since the experiment, but looking down through the scope, I watch as the chloroplasts move with strength. My eyebrows furrow as I click another lens into place, zooming farther in. Yes, the chloroplasts are thick and alive , but there are so many of them that they push on the cell walls. The normally straight lines of the hexagon cells are bowed and crooked.
My eye strains again as I increase the magnification even further. There. In the center of the overfilled cell, squished between two healthy chloroplasts is a decayed, crumpled one. I slide the tray over just a bit and the new part of the leaf shows the same thing. There are still plenty of healthy chloroplasts, but some have started to break down—the weak, brown crumbling cells speckle throughout the healthy ones. There are not enough yet to change the outward appearance of the leaf to the naked eye, but there are enough that it shows the magic is wearing off within the cells. I write down my examinations and then place the final slide on the magnifier—the one spelled with either Haylee or Erick’s magic.
When I stare down into the scope, it takes a second for my eye to adjust to the intense magnification of the leaf. I observe the bursting cell walls, similar to the ones I saw feeding off of my father’s magic. The chloroplasts inside are moving and wiggling, like they have more vigor. Like they aren’t just wiggling side to side, but they are purposefully moving to create life. I slide the plate a little to the side to look at a new portion of the leaf. More cells, more healthy cell walls, more moving chloroplasts and mo— A small gasp escapes me. What in the gods above is that? I force my eye closer to the scope as I stare at something that definitely should not be there. Mixed in with the wiggling chloroplasts of the plant are little circles of red. They are smaller than the chloroplasts, easily slipping into spaces between them— No, wait. They are attached to them. As if the chloroplasts are somehow feeding off of them. Or being fed off of.
“What the hell am I looking at?” I whisper as I click the very last magnification lens into place. After focusing the image, it indeed confirms what I am seeing.
The circular red organelles are attached to the chloroplasts. I watch them move for a long time, sliding the tray to the left and to the right. My mind whirls with more questions as I study whether these plump red organelles act the same throughout. And they do. Quickly, I grab the pen and my journal and draw everything that I see, listing out their descriptions and all of the observations that I make. I don’t know what it means. I don’t even know what I am looking at, but it doesn’t stop the flutter of excitement that bursts free in my chest. These leaves are different, and I have proof of it. I will have to ask Haylee and Erick to come back to test their magic again. This time, I will wait here in the workshop until I see the change happen myself. Carefully, I put the small glass slides with the leaf samples on a wooden plank, labeling each one and placing it carefully on the back counter behind me.
My hands tremble slightly with excitement before I pull my long, curly hair over one shoulder and start to loosely braid it as I leave my workshop. Those little red organelles consume my thoughts for the entire walk back to the palace, my journal tucked safely under my arm. This is the first time that I have found something new to work with in all of the years that I have spent researching. I sort through all of the data stored in my mind, everything that might possibly explain how this could have happened or what it means. But it’s like trying to put the pieces of an imageless puzzle together—I need more information.
The sun has nearly set by the time I greet the palace guards and walk up the steps to the massive double doors. My father had asked that I join him and my mother for dinner tonight, and I only agreed on the condition that it just be our family. Normally, dinners in the palace are open to any of the council members and their families to attend, but I want time alone with my own to discuss what will be happening with the arrival of the shifter king tomorrow.
After a quick shower, I change into a sleeveless white top and a flowing green skirt and walk downstairs to the queen’s dining hall. There are two dining spaces in the palace, the queen’s being the smaller and more intimate. The throne room is where larger gatherings take place, as it has enough room for over a hundred people to not only eat but to mingle and dance as well. I pull open a large door, the image of our family sigil burned into the wood, before walking into the dining space where a long table made to fit twelve holds three place settings. Two large chandeliers hang above, each with three tiers of spelled flames held within glass orbs. The table itself has been in the palace for as long as anyone can recall, the center of the ancient wood carved with the celestial sigil of the first-ever queen of Void Magic. The shining black stone floor is covered by dark green and ocean blue rugs. On the white stone walls, twinkling under the light of the spelled flames, are portraits of our family. My favorite being the most recent one, where Nox was forced to sit on a chair for hours while the palace artist gushed about how handsome his jawline was. The thought now tugs my lips into a smile as I greet my parents and take my place at the table.
“You look lovely, my rose,” my mother says, her hand holding my father’s.
“Thank you, Mother. How late did you guys stay at the celebration?” I ask as I reach forward and scoop some salad onto my plate.
“Long enough to tire out your father,” my mother responds with a laugh and pats his hand.
“I wasn’t that tired if you remember,” he purrs back. My father reaches his hand out and gently drags a knuckle down the side of my mother’s face.
“That is gross.” I set my fork down on my plate, suddenly without an appetite, as I grimace and stare at both of them.
My parents laugh, the cheerful sound echoing in the room. Despite the fact that I now wish I could turn back time and avoid hearing them talk about last night, I do love how happy they are together. How they complete each other without forcing one another to become something they aren’t. Without making them settle into being someone new. It makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat because of my own predicament.
“Are you ready for King Kai’s visit tomorrow?” I inquire. My stomach grumbles with enough hunger that I’m willing to forget the aforementioned coupling of my parents, though it doesn’t stop the shudder that moves through my body.
The reddish-gold light in the room is enough to make out the tense lines on my father’s face as he thinks my question over. Though smiling, there is no mistaking his nervous energy as he taps my mother’s hand with a finger. Leaning back in his chair, he finally answers, “We are. We are going to tell him that we will only agree to the deal if there is a time limit on how long our mage is required to be there. Whoever the magic chooses shouldn’t have to put their life on hold indefinitely.”
“Any guesses on who might be chosen?” I know that there are still a few powerful older mages, but none of them compare to Nox—not even my father. Daje and his friend Arin—as well as my instructor, Dilan—are the next strongest of the mages in our kingdom.
“It’s hard to say. It all depends on how King Kai chooses to word the contract before it’s bound in blood,” my father answers as he looks at my mother and gives her hand a small squeeze.
I chew on my salad as I think over what the shifter king had said when we spoke with him through the Mirror. He believed that there was some sort of blight affecting their magic, causing it to act strangely . I’m not familiar with what shifter magic entails besides the obvious ability to change them into a wild animal. A part of me does feel a small kernel of jealousy at whoever is going to be chosen to go. That envy also sparks my desire again for finding answers in this kingdom, for my own loss of magic.
Swallowing down the bite of food, I look up at my parents and tell them what I discovered today. I explain the difference in the cells of each leaf and the shocking discovery of some sort of symbiotic organelle that had grown or appeared at some point after I had left my workshop—when I thought the experiment failed.
“Is it possible that the experiment was tainted?” my father asks. He eyes me curiously from above where his chin rests on his now-interlaced fingers.
I tilt my head in thought before answering, “I suppose it’s a possibility, as with any experiment. There could be something in the air, or someone could have snuck into my workshop. Though the physical appearance of the leaves themselves didn’t seem tampered with. So if they were, someone would have to have these organelles already separated enough and infused with adhesion molecules to drop into the cells of the leaves.” And that is nearly impossible to do. Also, what else besides magic could cause leaves to sprout new life and be fed like the ones I saw?
My parents nod in thought—my father genuinely looks like he is trying to solve the theoretical question posed, while my mother has a different sort of glint in her eye. I know that look, and I tense in preparation.
“Daje looked extremely handsome at the celebration. You two made quite the pair as you danced,” she prompts, the sweet tone of her voice making the frustration rising in me settle some.
“He looked like Daje.” I shrug at her as I push the remaining food around on my plate with my fork. The stress of the past two days and the addition of the exciting new discovery has left my stomach more in knots than anything else.
“And have you given his proposal thought?”
I drop my fork with a start—the metal echoing sharply in the room—as I stare at her. To her side, my father releases a long sigh, looking over at my mother. They communicate silently for a moment before both turning to look back at me. Cautiously, I ask, “How do you know about that?”
“Bahira,” my mother says breezily, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. “I have known Daje as long as you have. He is like a second son to me. I recognized the look of elation on his face the moment he walked away from your private discussion at the edge of the trees.”
Fucking Daje . A scoff leaves my mouth as I force myself back in my chair. “He did propose,” I say hesitantly, deciding how much information to give my parents. “I have to answer him by tomorrow after King Kai leaves.” I leave out the part about his ultimatum, about how turning him down means losing him forever.
“And how do you feel about his proposal?” my father asks. His gray eyes are contemplative as he looks at me, studying my face.
I don’t answer for a few moments, my heart beating loudly in my ears. “I know he is a good man, and I know he would treat me well. And he has been my best friend since we were children.” Swallowing, I keep my gaze focused on the sigil in the middle of the table. “But we are different people in a lot of ways. And I know you have practically had our wedding planned since we were children, Mother, but it isn’t as simple as willing our friendship to be something more .”
“Oh, Bahira,” my mother whispers.
“Bahi, you can’t force these things. Your mother and I were lucky to have found love in an arranged situation, but that is not something that you have to do,” my father says.
“I just want you to be happy, my rose, and I had thought that perhaps you returned Daje’s affections. I thought that you were just waiting for him to act on them.” My eyes flick up to hers, the gray in them gleaming slightly under the spelled flames. “I should have made sure that was the case instead of assuming. You should never have to settle for anything other than what you want, and no one—myself included—should try to take that power away from you.”
A knot forms in my throat as silence settles in the room. The permission that I didn’t realize I needed to hear until right then makes my chest feel less tight as I blow out a slow breath. Dwelling on this anymore tonight, however, is something I’m too fucking tired for.
“I assume you haven’t heard anything else from Nox?” I wonder aloud, not so subtly changing the subject as I sip some water.
“Nothing new, I’m afraid,” my father sighs as he taps his finger on the edge of the table. My mother smiles slightly, her body tensing in concern.
“I’m sure he’s alright,” I say quietly, though I also have my own anxiety over where he is and what he’s doing at the forefront of my mind. My father nods in agreement before shifting the conversation again. We chat about the upcoming Equinox Competition and the past few Flame Ceremonies before I inhale a rather large yawn, which has my parents practically begging me to go to bed.
Once I get to my room, I open the balcony doors, letting in the warm summer breeze as I wash up and change for bed. Sliding into my cool sheets, my head is heavy as it sinks into my pillow. It feels like my future is dangling in front of me but I have two different threads to pull on. One will bring me a certain type of security, and happiness to Daje—one of the very few people I truly care about—but it will be at a personal sacrifice. The other will leave me the most fulfilled, but it will mean that I’m alone in that satisfaction.
My eyes drift closed, and the last thought that crosses my mind is how much easier this would all be if I could just make progress on my experiments. If I could find something tangible to fix what is broken, then perhaps everything else would fall into place.