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“I’m a Conjurite, Aggie,” I said. It was all she needed to know.
“You’re my brother,” she replied. “That’s all I care about. I want you in our lives again—me and mom both.”
“I can’t promise.”
Agatha sighed. “Fine. I’ll see you again soon, brother. I know you’ll be back, one way or another. Until then…know that we miss you.”
She turned and left the office, and I sagged against the desk I’d cracked. I hadn’t promised anything, not only because I couldn’t make promises I couldn’t keep, but because, as much as I loved my family, a part of me didn’t want to promise…because I didn’t care about keeping my word.
11
HAZEL
The dead gardens at the castle drew me. I couldn’t help myself—my fingers itched to do something about them. It was in my nature to heal, to create, and the gardens were everything that went against my grain.
I woke up early in the mornings. When I was alone outside, before the day had properly begun, I felt like my magic worked the best. There were no distractions, no Conjurite awake with their darkness tainting the fresh air and bright skies, and my magic flowed through my fingers like water.
It was therapeutic, too. Every morning, before we started helping Conjurites in a painstakingly slow process to save them from the darkness, I worked a little bit on the garden, bringing life back into the dead leaves, the roots that didn’t take nutrients from the ground anymore.
It was frustrating that we couldn’t do as much for the Conjurites as we’d hoped, and at least recreating the garden gave me a sense of fulfillment—it was one thing I knew I was good at, and my magic never failed me.
I worked in one corner of the garden, bringing a patch of roses back to life. They’d been long gone, dead to the world. It took a long time to push my magic into the roots, to let them take hold again. Green leaves started sprouting along the thorned stems, and buds started to form. I smiled when I finally saw the first signs of life.
“There you are,” I said. “You had me worried you weren’t going to show at all. It’s such a beautiful day, and we could really use your color.” I talked to the roses as I grew them, pouring my magic into the roots, allowing the plants to get used to the idea of life again.
“I’m going to let you show your true colors, and this garden will be one to be proud of yet. You’re the first, you know. The hedges on the other side of the garden are playing along, but we have stretches and stretches of garden that just won’t budge. Maybe, if the plants realize there’s magic and life to be had, they’ll change their minds about cowering away.”
I hummed while I worked, letting the music wrap around me and the plants. Everything about Palgia was so dark and dreary, I needed some color, some light, some life to make the place worth looking at again.
While I worked, I became aware of being watched. My skin burned, and I broke out in goosebumps. I jumped up and spun around, and Erol stood behind me.
He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around.
“I was just…I walked through the gardens, and I… Do you have everything you need?” He seemed unsure of himself—maybe he didn’t know if I wanted him here.
“I have everything I need,” I confirmed. “I was just tending to the garden. I hope you don’t mind.” I’d never asked if I was allowed to work on the garden, to stick my fingers in the ground and treat it as my own.
“I don’t mind,” Erol said. He glanced at the roses. “It looks like they’re coming back to life.”
I nodded. “It’s taking time, but I think they just need a bit more encouragement.”
“I can’t remember the last time these gardens were something to look at. It’s been a long, long time. Centuries.”
I hummed. “It takes a long time to wake up from a deep slumber like that, but it’ll get there.”
When Erol didn’t say anything and just stood there awkwardly, I kept talking to fill the silence. He looked like he wanted to stay, and I wanted him to know that he was welcome. Despite what he’d done to us, I didn’t fear him, and I wanted him to know that.
“You see, the heart of the plants is in the roots,” I said and kneeled. I pushed my fingers into the soil around the roses. The soil had been hard, but I’d wriggled it loose with a small garden fork I’d found in a shed that must have belonged to a gardener, once. “Put your hand here.”
Erol hesitated, so I took his hand and guided him to the soil, flattening his hand on it.
“Don’t do anything,” I warned. “Just feel.” I didn’t want him to use his dark magic and kill the plants again. He would learn to do something like this once he returned to the light, but he couldn’t yet. “Ready?”
I closed my eyes and pulsed my magic into the earth. I let the very essence of life flow through my fingers, flooding the ground with healing and light.
Erol gasped, and when I looked at him, his face was filled with wonder.
“It’s growing,” he said, nodding to the roses.
