Chapter 27 #2

The broken, craggy garden gate was now covered in thick, thorny rosebush vines. There were no blooms yet, just the vines themselves. But based on the buds already pulsing, they would bloom very soon. The thorns themselves were long, black, jagged things.

How? I asked.

You, my heart answered simply.

“Well, would ya look at that, princess?” she said, amused at the chaos. Her anger had all but disappeared, if it was even there in the first place. “That’s what I thought.” She clicked her tongue and actually gave herself a literal pat on the back.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, unable to fully comprehend the sheer chaos everywhere. How could this have happened?

“You, Clara Thorne, do have magic.”

“Gar—garden magic?” I asked, dumbfounded.

No, my heart said merrily.

“Heart magic, actually.” Hesper said, surveying the thorn jungle.

“What the hells is that?” My voice trembled.

“It is its own kind of magic. A kind for creating, giving, weaving, beginning.”

I could not have been more confused right now.

“Thanadyn had heart magic before his downfall. Eldrene also bore heart magic and possessed and harnessed that magic to the highest degree before her sacrifice. But other beings in Starfall were known to have it, too. It was certainly rare, as it is not a diluted form of magic, and it often manifests differently depending on who wields it. Before Thanadyn’s magic turned inward, he healed inner wounds.

As for Eldrene, hers manifested itself as protection. ”

Oh. Yes, okay. Sure. Why not?

The most evil being in the land had the magic I, apparently, had running through my veins. Eldrene, a Goddess, did, too. Yes, this made perfect sense, and my brain was not melting out of my ears.

I wanted to tell her that this was impossible. But my heart thundered in my chest, and the place where what I’d thought was garden magic used to live hummed happily. There was an odd, warm feeling inside of me—like I’d just gulped down too-hot soup.

Is that… magic? I dared ask.

Yes, my heart sang happily.

“How do you know?” I asked Hesper. Maybe it wasn’t heart magic; maybe it was my garden magic. That I could work with. That I knew.

“Well, I had a theory, and I needed more proof. You said your magic was connected to your heart when you did have it in Moss. So I paid close attention. Whenever you experienced a wave of emotion, bad or otherwise, I would go looking to see if anything happened with the local flora—which is how your magic has manifested so far. Because you love to grow things. You should have seen what you did outside of Wymble’s Grubbs.

” Hesper threw back her head with laughter.

Oh dear. Did I wither an entire hill of wormwood? Did I kill every flower in the local vicinity?

“You know the leaves townsfolk often use for… cleaning themselves?”

“Yes, mullein leaves for wiping one’s undercarriage,” I said matter-of-factly. I’d grown a field of them for Moss, but unsurprisingly, the folk of Moss opted to use the abundance of moss instead.

“Indeed, those. There was a grove of them outside of the tavern. When I went to use the privy that night, they had all turned into stinging nettle. Dear Ez was in the midst of… plucking things out when I stumbled upon the situation. It was then, I knew for certain.”

“That I had heart magic?”

“Yes. That, and that anger seemed to be a key to releasing it.” She leaned in close. “And that you desperately liked me.” Her breath was on my mouth. My eyes fluttered closed for a moment, filling my senses with her closeness. She brushed her lips against mine and then pulled away.

My breath hitched. Despite the magic realization, we had just fought, and my heart still hurt at her words. Hesper must have read the look in my eyes. Her sunshine demeanor immediately shifted into something more serious.

“I am sorry for today,” she said sincerely. “I could not get you to open up your heart by any means other than anger, so I—”

“Have you been trying other ways?” I asked, scared of the answer. Was this entire quest, every moment we’d shared together, only for unleashing this magic all along?

“Yes and no,” she said, chewing at her lip. “At first, I will admit that I flirted with you and goaded you to try and pry open your walls. But then I got to know you better and I—it was different.” Her voice was solemn now.

“And today? Why were you so awful?” My voice quavered.

“Because I couldn’t spend one more day with you going outside to an empty garden.”

Anger was her way in. So she took it. And as I looked at the roses all around me, the magic pulsing inside of me, I couldn’t stay too mad at her. I also couldn’t wait to try.

“So, so can I just grow something now?” I asked like an excited child.

“Give it a go,” she encouraged.

I made my way over to the fourth garden bed. The place where my first sprout had popped up.

“Do I reach my hand out or something?” I asked. What were the next steps with heart magic?

“For now, do what feels familiar.” She laughed, warm and easy; the sound made my heart swell. “We’ll work on simpler means to access your magic later.”

So I did what I knew. I shut my eyes and sang a song, talking to my heart as I always did. But this time, I believed magic would flow, I knew my heart would respond.

Things sputtered at first; all the paths in my heart were wired to shut off rather than let go. But bit by bit, I willed the magic to eke out of my heart and into the sprout. The flame lit, the magic took. I opened my eyes, and the sprout was living once more.

In fact, twelve perfect sprouts.

I jumped up and down with joy.

“I have magic!” I cried. Hesper beamed.

I had magic.

I had magic?

I had magic.

Repeating that phrase with a different emphasis was doing nothing at all to help me process the emotions.

But at last, I accepted what I hadn’t been able to for the last few weeks. Each flower that kept cropping up every step of the way must have been me—my magic.

All my life, I’d convinced myself there was nothing I could offer other than my sheer will to complete a task. I thought the only reason I had much worth at all was because I could use Moss’s magic.

But it was mine all along.

Of course it would bloom in Moss if the magic was connected to my heart. I didn’t have a home before then, I didn’t have a place for my heart to land. I did such a good job protecting my heart that I never let it beat freely.

Then there was Hesper, who broke through the cage I’d built and freed it all.

Dwindle would have a garden.

I would go home.

Even though home was looking more like a honey-yellow cottage and a shadowy protector.

“To town, princess,” Hesper said, taking my hand in hers. “And then, we train.”

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