Page 38 of An Arcane Education
“Well, do let me know if you find out anything more. I suspect you’ll find that this place holds many more secrets.”
CHAPTER 14
By seven o'clock Friday evening, the storm that’s been battering the island all week has finally subsided, leaving the campus waterlogged and dripping beneath a bright sky bathed in shades of pink and orange as the sun begins to set. The fresh scent of petrichor lingers in the air as I navigate the pathways toward the greenhouse with nervous energy thrumming through my veins after a quick dinner in the dining hall.
Dr. Vale is sitting on the bench outside of the greenhouse, writing in that same small leather notebook I’d seen him with in the arboretum. He doesn’t seem to notice me as I approach, lost in the details of whatever he’s writing, and I take the opportunity to examine him.
His face is washed in the warm glow of the sunset, the light reflecting off his glasses that have slid down the bridge of his nose. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, brushing it off his forehead before it falls right back while he continues to write in sharp, quick pen strokes.
I’m only a few feet away from him, making myfootfalls intentionally loud, when his head finally whips up. At the same time, he snaps the cover of his notebook shut before seeming to relax when he realizes it’s me. I’d almost think he looks guilty if he didn’t school his expression so quickly.I wonder what he’s writing.
“Hello, Ms. Harver,” he says, carefully sliding the notebook into his satchel before standing.
“Hi. Sorry if I startled you.”
“No worries.” He stands then leads the way to the greenhouse before unlocking it with one of the keys hanging around his neck.
He opens the door and gestures inside. “After you.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, making my way into the warm enclosure.
He closes the door behind us, grabs two lanterns that are just inside, then leads me through the massive building to an area of the greenhouse I haven’t seen yet. It’s a smaller room, closed off from the main central part of the greenhouse and less humid. There’s a small raised garden bed in the center of the room with several assorted herbs, and along the outside of the square room, more planter boxes with vegetables in various stages of growth.
Against the far wall, there’s a gap between planter boxes where a small circular table with two matching chairs sits. Dr. Vale gestures to the table in an indication to sit, and I oblige, sinking down into one of the chairs across from him with the table between us. The table is small but sturdy, its legs made of twisted metalwork made to resemble vines, and the chairs are the same. They’re surprisingly comfortable, though, with plush pillows on the seat and against the backs.
My heart races, both with our close proximity and the fact that I’m probably about to make a fool of myself again.
But I have to do this, I remind myself. I won’t make it through the semester without a disaster if I don’t. What would’ve happened if we’d been working with more dangerous plants yesterday? I easily could’ve harmed someone.
Part of me wishes we were in a more public location, as I’m only more nervous due to being alone with this man, but the larger part of me recognizes that would be worse because it would mean more witnesses to my ineptitude.
When we get settled at the table together, he finally speaks. “The first lesson everyone needs to learn, which I presume you’ve covered in Professor Showen’s class, is that magic is not simply an external source you can control, but something that’s channeled within you. Your magic responds to intention, and your emotions are affecting it. Does that sound right?”
“Yeah.” His gaze burns into me, but I can’t bring myself to make eye contact.
“So, in order for me to help you, I need to understand more about you. Some of these questions will feel personal,” he states, “but it’s important to be truthful and introspective.”
I nod in acknowledgment for him to continue, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
“So, based on the story you told me earlier about how you discovered your magic, you must be pretty powerful.”
I shrug. In all honesty, I have no clue what’s normaland what’s not when it comes to magic, so his statement surprises me.
“My first question is, do you feel like you’re an emotional person? More affected by things than the average person, perhaps?”
“Not really,” I answer honestly. “I feel like my emotions are pretty on par with other people’s, and I do a good job of keeping them in check.”
“What does that mean to you? Keeping your emotions in check?”
“I don’t know, just coping with things to the best of my ability, I guess. Like, I’m not going to scream at someone if I get angry with them, and I won’t burst out crying if I fail a test or something.”
“Hmm, interesting. In that case, what do you do to cope with your emotions?”
“Uhh, I don’t know. I just kind of get over them eventually.”
“Well, I think we’ve found the issue,” he states.
I turn my head to look at him, hopeful he’s found some simple correction I’ve been missing. “What’s that?”
