season avatars 03 - chaos season (11 page)

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Jenna said. “They’ve barely spoken to each other.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Gwen touched Dorian’s neck. “I have a feeling he’ll sleep in late tomorrow with a fierce headache. We can get up early and practice our linking.”

“Why Gwen, are you using your magic to hurt him? I thought Springs consider that an abuse of their magic.”

Gwen flashed a wicked smile. “No, I wouldn’t do that to an Avatar. I’m just letting him harvest what he planted—or drank.”

Jenna couldn’t help grinning herself at Gwen’s less-than-proper behavior. She hoped the four of them could prove their skill quickly. The sooner they tamed a Chaos Season, the sooner they would be recognized as official Avatars. Then it would be easier to deal with Dorian.

CHAPTER NINE

The Atrium

Jenna didn’t rise at dawn—faint wailing from the nursery roused her in the middle of the night, and even though Callie arrived first to pick up Robbie, he didn’t calm down until Jenna rocked him in her arms for an hour. She dragged herself out of bed when a maid came in with fresh water.

“Good morning, Ava.” She curtseyed. “I’m to be your personal maid, if you’re willing.”

A personal maid. Jenna hadn’t had one before, at least, not in this life. She struggled to remember what Gwen would do. “Ah, good morning.”

“Clover. I’m called Clover.” The maid was in her mid-twenties. She had a broad smile, despite the gap between her front teeth. “I thought you might not remember me from last night.”

Jenna nodded ruefully. “By the Four, I barely remember the One Oak. At least, not this room.”

Since Charles and Sophia still occupied the main summer suite, Jenna had been given a slightly smaller room. With its own fireplace, dressing area, and sitting area, it was as big as her family’s cottage, which had held seven before her eldest brother had married. Her family would swell with pride if they had the time to visit. She would have to send them a letter and some chals once she’d settled in.

“Ava, will you eat here or in the breakfast nook?” Clover asked.

“Here.” She didn’t want to face one of the older Avatars with their words from last night fresh in her head. “Tell me, are my sister Avas awake?”

“All of them dined an hour ago, Ava.”

Freeze it, Gwen would not be happy with her. Jenna found a simple dress suitable for working in the garden, braided her hair, and downed her breakfast quickly. She had to check on Robbie before starting her own work.

Robbie had just woken up a short while ago himself. Callie was attempting to feed him gruel, but he spat it back out, getting gruel not just on himself, but the table and his nursemaid. Jenna would have liked to stay and feed him herself, but all she could do was blow a kiss at him and leave before he started fussing for her.

As Jenna flew down the stairs, she debated if she should start force-growing her oak first or join Gwen and the others for linking practice. They had probably already begun and would lose focus if they had to stop and regroup to include her. Force-growing her tree would be easier on her if she could spread it out over several sessions. The sooner she started it, the sooner she would be ready to link with all the plants in Challen. The Avatars would have to gather at her oak during a Chaos Season, so she should pick a good location. Once the tree was established, they could include it in their practice link sessions. It made sense to Jenna to take care of her tree first before finding the others. Hopefully Gwen would agree with her.

Jenna let herself in to the main atrium occupying the center courtyard. She hadn’t been able to view it properly last night, so she took a few heartbeats to admire it. Ages ago, the Avatars had put in a glass roof. Although direct sunlight exposure was limited to when the sun was overhead, the Winters ensured the room stayed warm and humid constantly. Sconces along the walls provided additional light. Plants that required more sun were grown in a separate greenhouse away from the main building, but Jenna preferred to work in this atrium as much as possible.

Four rows of tables lined the atrium. These tables were filled with different types of soil taken from various parts of Challen. Wooden sticks divided the tables into sections with different seedlings or plants in each one. Jenna walked up and down, reading the labels Charles had printed in a neat hand. Most of them were for peas and beans. Given his family background in producing wine, she would have expected more grapes. Maybe they were in the greenhouse. All of the plants in here were well-known to her. It didn’t seem as if Charles was studying any of the strange plants. The Avatars had only returned yesterday, and she had the samples. It irked her that Charles wasn’t interested in learning more about the deathbushes. Being near the end of his own term as reigning Avatar was no excuse, as he could bring the knowledge into his next life.

Jenna had brought a few deathbush seeds down with her, and she broke off their wings as she debated what to do with them. Most of the time, Summer Avatars wanted to make crops thrive and weeds wither. She needed to figure out what conditions would stop these seeds from sprouting. It would give her some ideas about how to handle them the next time she found them.

She found a couple of small cups and filled them from a barrel of water in the corner. Setting the cups down on a bench, she opened a cabinet that had stood there for three hundred years and had the scratches and dents to prove it. She grabbed a container of salt from one shelf and a stoppered pitcher of vinegar from another. One cup received a generous handful of salt; the other, enough vinegar to make her nose crinkle. Although she’d be able to tell the samples apart by the smell, Jenna followed Charles’ example and wrote out labels for each cup. She put a deathbush seed in each cup and set them in the darkest corner of the atrium. Neither plant would likely sprout under the harsh conditions, but she didn’t want to disturb what he was working on. That might give the older Avatars a reason to think her group couldn’t handle Chaos Season.

Jenna labeled more paper, wrapped the remaining deathbush seeds in it, and placed them in a cubby of a shelf, high up where no one would take them accidentally. Then, with a sigh, she trudged to a corner where the door to the underground seed vault was. The small room was kept cool—but not too cold—by a block of ice. More baskets and boxes filled the vault. The light coming in from the open door was too dim for Jenna to read the labels, but she let her nose guide her to a tightly woven basket of sawdust. The sawdust protected the acorns. Time to bind herself to the One Oak—again.

Jenna wondered what would happen if she used two oaks at once, one here and one in another part of the country. Would that make her more sensitive to what was happening with Chaos Season, or would that be too confusing? Would she be able to force-grow the second tree if she wasn’t able to visit it frequently?

Kron’s portals would come in handy for something like that. I could have trees growing in every corner of Challen and visit them all in a single day.
Maybe they could even travel around the country to take care of small Chaos Seasons. It would be less effort for Kay to unravel them on the spot instead of reaching through weather systems to sense a Chaos Season. She would have to propose the idea later, after making sure Gwen wasn’t mad at her for avoiding link practice.

For now, Jenna had to focus on finding the acorn that best fit with her. She could plant other trees later if Kron was willing to make portals to their locations, but for now she needed at least one tree to help her tap into the plants of Challen. Her magic could make acorns sprout no matter what the season.

She reached into the basket, sneezing as she stirred up sawdust. The acorns had been gathered in the fall. They were past their prime but still capable of sprouting. Charles had done well in selecting and storing them. She touched a couple that seemed promising, but they tumbled away when she chased after them. Then one gave itself into her hand, the embryo inside reaching for her as if it thought she was the sun. Jenna pulled the acorn out of the basket and held it up in front of her face.

“Did you come from my last tree?” she asked it. “I’m sure you did. Well, little one, let’s create some plant magic together.”

The acorn seemed to swell in her hand, as if ready to burst open. She didn’t need to place it in water to tell it was sound.

She tucked it next to her bosom and cleaned up, ready to find a suitable spot to plant her acorn. Before leaving, she glanced at her test cups and raised her eyebrows.

“By All Four, how do they do that?”

The deathbush seeds had already sprouted, with roots stretching over the sides, questing to do more damage.

CHAPTER TEN

A Sprout Duel

Jenna grabbed the sprouts out of both cups, heedless of the liquid spilling out, and squeezed them in her hands.
Die!
She urged them.
You were never meant to sprout.

Several roots peeked out of each hand and curled over her fingers as if they planned to draw nourishment from her directly.

“Freeze it!” Freezing wouldn’t work; she needed fire. Surely even these unnatural plants would burn. It was too warm for the fireplaces to be lit. She’d have to take these sprouts to the kitchen and hope they didn’t harm the cooks.

She ran to the door and struggled with the latch. Roots wrapped around her fingers as if they knew how to hinder her. Once she managed to throw the door open, she bolted down the hall. Where was the kitchen, and how could she get to it? Her memories didn’t extend to the servants’ areas.

She spotted a housemaid polishing a sconce and ran up to her. “Show me to the kitchen right now!”

The maid dropped her rag. “Ava, you startled me! The kitchen?  You don’t belong there. I can send for food—”

“I don’t need food, I need a fire!”

The maid opened the door to the Summer Study. “I’ll lay one right away.”

Jenna paced, pulling at the sprouts while the maid laid kindling and struck a match.
As Jenna broke the plants apart, she tossed them into the fireplace. The still-damp roots wouldn’t catch fire. Every flame that licked a root died.

As she reached for more tinder, the maid asked, “Should I call someone to help you, Ava?”

“Get the fire going first.” Jenna took a deep breath. “Then find the current Avi Summer and the rest of my quartet.” She didn’t want them to find her in such an embarrassing state, but these plants were more dangerous than she’d thought. She needed to kill them before they developed thorns.

By the time the maid finally got the fire going, Jenna had managed to rip half the plant away from one hand. Her other hand was little more than a claw. The roots wrapped around her fingers were surprisingly tough. As she attacked them, they curled toward her free fingers.

“Better get Charles—the Avi Summer first,” she said. “I’ve never dealt with such stubborn plants before.”

The maid glanced again at Jenna’s hand before running off.

Jenna scraped the roots against the rough bricks of the fireplace. She shredded a few roots along with her skin. The root tips turned toward the scrapes, questing like worms to bury inside. She renewed her efforts to remove them.

As if the link had drawn her, Gwen came in, followed by Kay and Ysabel. “Jenna!” She rushed forward. “By All Four, what are you doing?”

“Get this frozen plant off of me! Be careful.” She grimaced. “It thinks my skin is soil.”

“And you can’t get it off on your own?” Gwen’s tone was incredulous, but she came over. Scars on her palm were visible as she raised her hand with the cursed shard still embedded in it.

“I don’t think your magic will work on plants, Gwen,” Jenna said. “Even with the cursed shard.”

Gwen met her eyes. “What if I send you the curse through the link, and you curse the plants? Are you willing to try that?”

“Is that possible? No, is it a good idea?” Jenna wasn’t sure what would happen if she used the curse. What if it permanently twisted her magic? Even after getting the bracelet, Gwen didn’t heal others as often as an Ava Spring normally would. Worse was the scar that hadn’t disappeared. Springs could heal themselves of anything short of a mortal injury. They weren’t supposed to have scars left over from some magical duel.

“We’ve already linked with Gwen before,” Ysabel said. “Why not try it now?”

“We didn’t touch her …injured hand before,” Jenna replied. “That bracelet is supposed to protect us from her curse. I mean, the curse she carries.”

Gwen’s eyes darkened. At the rate Jenna kept accidentally offending her, they wouldn’t be able to link for the next several lifetimes.

The roots squeezed Jenna’s fingers. If she didn’t get them off soon, she might lose her whole hand. That, along with the fear of alienating Gwen, made her decide on the brave course—or the rash one. “But maybe we should try it,” she said. “I can’t think of a better idea.”

Kay glanced worriedly at Gwen’s hand, but she didn’t speak.

Please let this work, O Four,
Jenna prayed.
And please don’t let the curse infect our magic too. Ysabel and Kay shouldn’t suffer for my foolishness.

Gwen pushed her violet bracelet halfway up her arm, then offered Jenna her scarred hand. As Jenna reached for it, her wrapped hand brushed against the flowers. The roots shied away for an instant, long enough to let Jenna wiggle her numb fingers.

“Did you see that?” Jenna asked. Hope flared. “Maybe we don’t have to link.”

Gwen’s expression flickered. Was she disappointed? She put on a stoic face while Jenna brought her hand up against the bracelet, almost but not quite touching it. The roots slithered up Jenna’s arm, but they refused to release her.

“Let me try something,” Kay said. “Gwen, will you link with me?”

“Of course,” she replied.

Jenna felt as wanted as a weed.

Gwen laid a hand—her good one, Jenna noted—on top of Kay’s. Moving together, they brought their hands closer to the roots, close enough Jenna worried she’d be drawn into their link. Then she felt the cold streaming from Kay’s fingers. Kay seemed to be targeting the plants, but Jenna shivered as goosebumps appeared on her arm. Gwen brought her scarred hand in from the other side, forcing the roots back down toward Jenna’s hand. They clung to Jenna for a few heartbeats before dropping onto the tiled floor.