AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes, Quincy, yes,” Professor Waita said triumphantly, looking up at the rest of us. “Though this is called a forcing charm, what you’re really doing is getting to know the plant, and thenaskingit to do as you wish. Questions?”
I looked around, but no one raised their hand. I had no idea where to start with this, but figured I would just watch the others and do what they did.
“Very well,” Professor Waita said. “You have one hour.”
The stern but comforting voice of the professor and the hope that I would succeed in this exercise, if nothing else, allowed me to lose myself a little.
Growing up in Philly, I’d had little opportunity to get my hands in the dirt. I spent the first few minutes trying to understand the little plant’s environment.
The soil was damp to the touch, but a little gritty under my nails.
“Careful, Hawthorne,” Professor Waita growled. “The roots of a baby plant are like feathers.”
“Sorry,” I said, pulling my fingers out of the dirt.
I held the pot up and observed the plant from all angles. With the sunlight filtering through it, the green was so bright and tender it almost broke my heart with its delicate beauty.
I want to know you, I want to understand you,I thought to the plant, feeling monumentally stupid.
I glanced around the classroom.
Most of the students were grimacing at their plants to no avail.
A girl I recognized from my morning class, Justine, with the red pixie cut, had managed to extend one of her plant’s leaves to about four times the size of the others. The tip of her tongue was sticking out between her lips as she frowned in concentration.
I continued to silently cajole my own plant as the light in the room blushed into a yellow afternoon glow.
“Okay, class, that’s enough,” Professor Waita called to us. “Put them away, you’ll try again next time.”
I had done nothing, absolutely nothing to my plant.
I looked around again. One or two of the students in the front row had pink buds at the ends of theirs.
Only Quincy had succeeded inaskingher plant to blossom. It was a glorious pink, and I envied her horribly for being able to do it. This was supposed to bemy thing.
As the students filtered out, I tried to catch Professor Waita’s attention.
“Hey, there, Hawthorne, chin up,” she said. “You’ll get it tomorrow.”
“Do you teach the Healing class too?” I asked, remembering something Cori had mentioned about her over lunch.
Her eyebrows shot up.
“One of them,” she replied. “But those are for upper-level students only. See you tomorrow, girl.”
I headed out, trying to ignore the lump in my throat.
It was only when I saw Cori and Anya waiting for me that I remembered what I really needed to be upset about.
My heart began to pound again at the thought of a night with the lord protector.
But before the fear fully descended on me, I pictured his eyes in my mind, pale as ice, and so tortured.
I wondered if there was something in me that might ease his pain.
