9. Chapter 8 #3
Ivy spun on her heel and marched back to him.
“I don’t want your help, Ezra. In less than twenty-four hours, you’ve crashed into me, almost destroyed my plant, caused these flowers to transform into dragons, and have now caused me to look like a drowned rat all before I’ve gone to orientation at the school I’ve been wanting to go to for years.
And you’ve apologized for none of it. So if your help includes any more of that, I don’t want it. ”
His mouth clamped shut, his jaw squared, and she watched the Adam’s apple in his throat bob once. Finally, he had nothing to say in return. She turned again and left.
She rushed through the maze, trying to remember which way she had turned to get to the snapdragons in the first place, and she grimaced as her feet squelched with each step.
If only the water would rise off her clothes like mist from how hot her body was running after her latest encounter with Ezra.
Through all the frustration, she couldn’t help but wonder how their magic connected so strongly.
Supplying that much light magic should’ve used a considerable amount of her energy.
Under normal circumstances, her legs would tremble, and sluggishness would weigh her down until she rested or drank a restoration potion.
But she was walking fine. She was a little tired.
Though it was more in an “I need an espresso” way rather than an “I need to sleep for five hours” way.
Judging by his face, he didn’t know what had happened between them either. That was hardly a surprise.
Ivy rounded the corner of the hedge and immediately tripped over a small tin bucket. She braced herself for the tumble against the gravel by leading with her shoulder and groaned on impact.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry!” a woman called out behind her.
She pushed herself to her knees, brushing the small rocks off her before looking over at the older woman rising from the flower bed.
“I didn’t expect anyone to come this way today,” the woman murmured, pulling off her gardening gloves and wiping at some smudged dirt on her cheek before helping Ivy stand. “Ah, you…”
“I know,” Ivy sighed. “I, uh, I had a run-in with some snapdragons.”
“Goodness, had I known someone was in there, I would’ve checked right away! I saw the clouds roll in overhead all of a sudden, and I was going to light the lamps after I finished here, but they disappeared like smoke.”
“Yeah, I’m not really sure what happened.” Ivy brushed the gravel from her hands.
“First year at Arcania?” she asked.
“Is it obvious?”
The woman chuckled. “Most new students don’t know the campus is rife with arcane energy. We do our best to manage it with the exams each month. Still, anomalies can occur. Especially if there is an increase in magical transference.”
“Sorry, we?” Ivy asked. “Are you a professor?”
The woman pressed a hand to her chest and nodded. “Ah, yes. Where are my manners? I’m Professor Thorne. I teach some of the botany courses here at Arcania and maintain the entire greenhouse with the help of the student gardeners.”
“Oh, I have you for a couple of courses this semester,” she said, grinning as her mood brightened. “I’m Ivy Heartwell.”
Thorne smiled warmly as she took Ivy’s hand and shook it. “Wonderful to meet you, Ivy. I look forward to seeing you in class.” She peeked at her wristwatch. “Oh, my. Look at the time! I need to get to the orientation booth. Would you like me to lead you out of the maze?”
Ivy nodded, chuckling. “Yes, please.”
The professor turned and picked up her supplies, then stashed them in the kicked-over bucket before they continued.
They ambled through the twists and turns of the hedges, chatting about the upcoming semester and what Ivy was most excited for.
She kept “finding my missing best friend” to herself.
However, Thorne may have had Briar in a class at least once last year.
She cleared her throat. “I actually had a friend at Arcania last year. She was only an alchemy major, but after studying the program, there’s often an overlap in some of the classes. Maybe you would’ve had her in your class?”
“Perhaps,” Thorne said, pursing her lips to think. “What’s her name?”
Ivy paused, chewing the corner of her lip. “Briar Mayclair.”
The professor stopped in her tracks. The metal handle of the bucket scraped against the tin as it swung out of balance. Ivy watched as Thorne’s gaze dropped to the ground, the corners of her mouth turning down.
“I did. She was in one of my classes last fall. Bright student. Determined. But…I don’t know, something changed near the end of term and then she went missing,” Thorne paused, and Ivy’s breath caught in her throat.
“She didn’t come back one week, which turned into two, and…
well, you get the point. Once the authorities announced her de—” Thorne cut herself off and sighed. “Well, it shook the entire campus.”
Her hope shrank as fast as it had appeared.
“I didn’t get the chance to give her her final essay back, and…” Thorne looked over at Ivy, a soft smile coming to her face. One Ivy had seen too many times in her life. One that was brimming with pity and resignation. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
“Thanks,” Ivy murmured, struggling to return the same kindness. They rounded one last corner, and the exit came into view. “And thanks for leading me out.”