After a quick stop at the cooking area I didn’t head back to my sleeping quarters or even the nook to fix my cut tunic. Instead, frustrated fury conquered any trepidation about slipping off the narrow paths and I stomped my way back to the garden. What was a dangerous fall when I had already almost died tonight? It wasn’t as if my emotional and physical dignity hadn’t already been stripped away from me, so there wasn’t anything else to lose.

The garden was peaceful and quiet in the last rays of sunset. The amber tree cast twining shadows over the plants nestled in its roots and the hanging plants in its branches rustled and waved in a gentle, cool breeze. The sweet smell of cold water lilies mixed with the spice of folly flower vines was enough to stay me for a few moments to take in the sight before my fury swamped me again. I set down the sack that held a handful of bowls, a mortar and pestle, and two long handled spoons; the fire starter I had bullied into collecting the items at the cooking area had been thorough in getting the basics of what I might need. Then I methodically worked through the garden, making a mental note of everything I recognized. The moon rose high in the sky by the time I finished crawling through the tree’s smooth branches to identify what the highest hanging baskets held.

Then it was time to decide which poison to use. Somewhat ironically, there was a patch of Black Root just waiting to be ground down, but I decided against it. It might be ridiculously easy to prepare but there was no reason to bring Prevna into this. Not even tangentially.

Another option was a mixture of bark from a ripple leaf bush and the thorny stem of Traveler’s Catch to induce muscle weakness and spasms as well as a loss of balance for several hours with a small dosage. I got as far as stripping those components from their respective plants, suffering minor finger cramps when the thorns from the Traveler’s Catch plant pricked me. I even scooped up water from the pond so that I could boil them together when one glaring issue slapped me in the face.

I had no way to make fire.

I dashed the bowl down onto the ground, flinging water everywhere. Then I growled under my breath as water soaked the toes of my shoes. Of course, something as simple as making use of all the warnings I had learned over years couldn’t even go well today. It didn’t even matter that the shoes were oiled against water—it was just more proof that everything was determined to come back and bite me today.

I didn’t want to have to sneak back to the cooking area and use the fire starters’ cooking stones. Didn’t want the extra stress of working with a new tool who’s heat I had no way to control and that I had decent chance of burning myself on.

I wanted to stay in the quiet comfort of the garden where there was a slimmer chance of prying eyes. I liked having the plants around within easy reach. They were familiar and compliant and didn’t try to kill me as soon as I opened up to them. They didn’t render me weak and frozen from their mere presence or send me spiraling in memories I’d rather not remember.

They were safe.

And if I could lose myself in creating the one thing allowed to me now without my healer’s beads and use that poison I made later, then all the better.

However, many of the recipes and mixtures I knew called for fire in some manner to bind the ingredients together or bring out latent potential. Granted, a decent number of the plants, like Black Root, were already poisonous in their own right, but many of those simply weren’t powerful enough to have the kind of effects I wanted in their natural form or were too dangerous on their own. Quickly, I ran through my mental list of the remaining plants that could be useful without having to deal with fire.

A slow smile spread across my lips as I recalled a very useful but simple combination. Feverluck and spiritflower. They had worked well to bring subtle revenge on Fellen when she had started out as a snob. It felt a bit poetic to make use of the effective combination here and both plants, being relatively common and versatile, had made their way into the garden.

I plucked a handful of leaves from each plant with self-satisfied precision before returning to my work area near the sack. I crushed them together with the mortar and pestle much like I had with my hands back during the seasonal run, working out some of the pent up emotional baggage the day had gifted me.

My hands slowed of their own accord, however, when the final grainy paste filled the bottom of the mortar. They didn’t stop simply because the mixture was finished, but because an unsettling thought struck at the sight of the innocent looking paste.

I could still have my healer’s beads if I hadn’t made this mild poison the first time. I wouldn’t have gotten in trouble for hitting Fellen or flinging her sling into the river because we wouldn’t have been paired together because she felt ill. She would have stayed with Nole and kept her distance from me. Which meant Grandmother wouldn’t have berated me for my foolishness and even if she still had pressed me about the beads I would have been in a steadier frame of mind—far more unlikely to make the rash decision to cut off my beads like I had.

I could have been using this garden in a myriad of different ways, acting on so much more knowledge. Used the plants like I ached to use them; fall back into the real comfort of the nostalgic rhythms of healing. I could taken care of my own wounds and not suffered anyone else’s treatment. I could have proven myself better than her, more skilled and knowledgeable.

But instead I had gotten petty revenge on a girl who ultimately, at the time, hadn’t known any better.

I shoved the mortar and pestle away before rubbing my fingers over my temples and forehead. Was there nothing that memory couldn’t ruin today? As if bidden by that particular question, familiar sayings rose up in my mind, born on waves of frustration and guilt.

“Be better.”

“Ambition is nothing without discipline.”

“Don’t narrow your focus so much that you turn an easy task into an impossible one.”

Apparently, memory had no qualms about making a terrible day even worse. I couldn’t even get revenge for being nearly killed by Jin without feeling like an idiot. The whole scenario might have been humiliating and terrifying and painful, but in the end recklessly hurting her in return would likely do more harm than good for my ultimate goal. My rage guttered out like a doused fire at that cold realization.

I was going to become one of the Chosen. No matter what else happened, I needed to be disciplined enough that I didn’t jeopardize that goal—and Jin, as the seedlings’ mentor, was definitely necessary to learn what I needed. If I got revenge on her and then got kicked out of the lessons or earned her ire enough that she worked against me rising through the ranks…that goal would become more of a dream than a workable possibility. I needed to keep my path to the rank of Chosen as easy as possible without cluttering it up without unnecessary trouble. Jin had been doing her job, and she had done it as efficiently as possible, not matter how distasteful that had been.

I could settle my grievance with her like she had suggested, in an official match, once my skills had grown enough that I had a decent chance at beating her. Doing something now, when she had all the authority and I was just a random seedling who had barely begun training, wasn’t going to help anything, no matter how bitterly satisfying it would be.

“Patience. Listening. Preparation. Flexibility.”

If there had ever been a time to listen to Rawley’s tenets, this was it. I sighed and drew my knees up to my chest. My stomach grumbled a reminder that I had forgotten to grab food in my mad dash to get supplies to concoct poisons, adding to my misery. Numbly, I reached to the side and plucked a couple of bitter, chewy diatris leaves from the small bush to help stave off the hunger.

There wouldn’t be any closure today. Only a jumble of events that made me feel insignificant and without agency. I looked out over the garden again, meandering without any of the intense focus I had started out with. It was still pretty in the glow of the pine cones and silvery moonlight.

My gaze snagged on one of the plants I had first noticed when I saw the garden for the first time this morning. It was a sun glory and, as the name suggested, it needed what sun it could get in the middle of the Seedling Palace rather than being shaded out by the amber tree. My shoulders relaxed slightly as I looked at the tall flowers. That was something I could still take care of.

- -

“Gimley?”

My eyes flew open as I stifled a yawn. Prevna was crouched down in front of me, amused and faintly…concerned, while Loclen stood behind her looking annoyed. I shoved myself up into a sitting position from the large patch of moss I had fallen asleep on late into the night.

The garden was still in a state of disrepair with my various poison experiments discarded near the entrance and trails of soil going every which way from when I had carried the plants I dug up.

Some of the plants had been put back in the ground slightly askew and I hadn’t cared enough last night to dig them up and fix it once they were in a better spot. I might have a lot of knowledge about plants, but I was by no means a gardener. I was used to finding wild plants and leaving them as they were except for a handful of cuttings or leaves plucked.

Despite trying to scrub my hands clean, dirt was still caked under my nails and also now decorated my pants over the knees and the various parts of my tunic. My eyes felt gritty and it felt like a good chunk of my hair had escaped from its braid. I probably looked more than a little crazy.

I scowled at Prevna and she snorted before she explained how they had come to witness me like this. “Loclen noticed you didn’t come back after your training last night and when you missed morning practice”—I groaned inwardly at that bit of information—”she asked me if I knew where you were. When you weren’t at the outlook I figured you would be here.” She shrugged and smiled. “I didn’t think you had gone on a rampage and would be covered in dirt though.”

Loclen’s gaze snapped around the area. “What happened?”

“Some of the plants needed to be moved.”

She was clearly unimpressed with my answer. “And that was more important than morning training?”

My jaw set. “I was working on it last night.” And then added in a petulant mumble I couldn’t quite suppress, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Prevna broke back into the conversation, “Jin didn’t comment on your absence—we kept thinking she was going to break into a lecture about being diligent and working hard—but you should probably clean up quick and come to the afternoon training. There’s not much time left before the midday break is over.”

I cursed and got up before hurrying over to the pool of water to splash water on my face and attempt to clean my hands again. They got cleaner, but were far from perfect. I untied my hair next, running my fingers through the mildly snarled strands and braiding them back together as soon it felt like I didn’t have a knot of hair on the side of my head. Then I hurried for the thin paths and Prevna and Loclen followed.

Prevna couldn’t quite resist from commenting, “I never thought I’d see you this frantic.”

“Shut up.”

She grinned and I crossed the widest path, using a rope for balance as I did my best to hurry without making a misstep. After that they told me to go on ahead to change and I didn’t need to be encouraged twice. I went back to my dome, changed, and, on the pains of a raging stomach, hurried to the cooking area to grab something quick to eat.

I made it to the training platform just in time for strategy training. Jin took notice of my presence with a glance, but otherwise didn’t make an overture about the fact that I had missed the morning’s practice or act as if she had tried to kill me the night before—even if she hadn’t had any intention of it working. For my part, I kept more quiet than usual during what would have normally been my most vocal class and thought about how I would eventually get her back. Just because I couldn’t have the consolation of immediate revenge and she had been testing me, didn’t mean I couldn’t hold a grudge.