I tried not to fixate on the fact that I was wearing jean shorts and a Vera’s Café T-shirt as his eyes combed over me in return. At least I had taken to using the fancy magical botanist skin care and makeup I acquired last year. I was pretty sure my eyelashes had grown a few millimeters over the summer. Did Callan notice things like that?
Professor East cleared his throat, and I forced my attention to him. Like Callan, he was dressed in a dashing tuxedo. Knowing a little about the magical botanist community now, I guessed bothof their suits were made of plant-based fabrics. “Well, then I’ll leave you two to it.” He departed through the doors to the teahouse.
I let out a breath as I realized Professor East wasn’t punishing me for sneaking into the academy. Not yet, at least.
“What are you doing here, local?” Callan said it slowly, and there was a tinge of exasperation in his voice but not surprise.
“It’s a long story.”
“And you have time to tell it now that you’re helping me package the silent-auction prizes.” He turned on a heel, and I hurried to follow him down the central vein. I could hear a smile in his voice as he asked, “What’s with the flower crown?”
I reached to touch the crown on my head, having completely forgotten it was there. “My aunt’s celebrating midsummer at the café now. She gave these to all the employees.”
Callan led me into an office that I had never been in before. The tables were crammed full of items with delicately labeled tags. My eyes roved over books, vases, plant cuttings in jars, hand-thrown mugs, and magnifying glasses.
“What is all this?”
“Items that sold at the silent auction today, raising funds for the academy. Some have been magically enhanced. Others hold historical and sentimental value for botanists.”
I looked closer at a framed letter on thick, cream-colored paper. The label read,Letter penned by George Washington Carver. Describes his first experience using a Floracantus.
I let out a sharp breath as I read the figures on the paper beside it. “Callan, this letter sold for eighteen thousand dollars.”
“It’s our biggest fundraiser of the year, outside of the research grants we get. The instructors collect items to sell, and it’s part of the field work for some of the second-years who are interested in history and curation. It was, at least.”
“So what do we need to do?”
“Package them up so they’re ready to be sent home with their purchasers tomorrow.” Callan set a large pile of flattenedwhite boxes on one of the tables but didn’t make a move to assemble them. “Now, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?”
I brushed past him and picked up one of the boxes, easily folding it in three dimensions. They were similar to the pastry boxes we used at Vera’s Café.
“Meadow invited me.”
Callan raised an eyebrow, his face carefully neutral otherwise. “Meadowinvited you? How do you know Meadow?”
“I don’t. Well, we just met. She was tree walking outside the wall.”
Something flickered across his face at that, but he stayed focused on me. “And you were outside the wall because…”
“I was delivering a cake to a riverbank wedding and thought I’d pop by.”
“You thought you’d pop by?” Callan’s words were even, and I couldn’t sense if he was mad, amused, confused, or something else that he was perfectly masking. It made me want to spill my guts.
“I knew it was the summer solstice, so I figured there would be people here charging the shield. Possibly you. And others.” Why was I blathering? I grabbed a nearby leather-bound book and nestled it carefully into a box.
“Briar, you have to be more careful. There are people here who—” He cut himself off and balled his hands into fists before relaxing them and turning to package one of the auction items. He whirled his hands and muttered something, the box perfectly folding together on all sides.
Of course.The paper boxes had come from wood materials. Even dead, the cells in wood could respond to botanist’s magic.
“There are people here whowhat? Meadow said things were tense between the board and the teachers.”
Callan exhaled. “They are. Things have… kicked up over the summer. I’m hoping that it will get sorted out today. But as far as you’re concerned, being around when members of the Board of Regents are here is asking for trouble.”
“You mean your parents?”
“They’re included, yes.”
We worked in silence for a few moments, me stewing about what he wasn’t saying and him, presumably, stewing that I was here when he certainly hadn’t expected me to be.
