An Enchantment of Thorns: A Fae Beauty and the Beast Retelling (A Court of Fairy Tales Book 1) by Helena Rookwood & Elm Vince

Author:Helena Rookwood & Elm Vince [Rookwood, Helena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

I dusted my hands together, dislodging the worst of the compost, although a fine layer of the black matter still clung to my skin, tracing darker patterns over the fine lines of my knuckles, my wrists. Although it was slowly growing later, enough light lingered in the sky for me to get this additional practice in before sundown. Just like I’d been doing for the past few weeks, I’d trained with Thorne earlier in the day, spent some time tidying up the mess in the rose garden… Now this was for me.

My gaze swept across the workbench, taking in the small propagation pots lined neatly across it, the compost packed in loosely, the seeds I’d selected arranged in neat piles to one side.

Thorne had said weaving my enchantments into plants that were still growing was more difficult magic. That it would take longer. That compared to tying a knot in a stem or arranging flowers or using petals and leaves to make colorful patterns, this type of growing enchanting meant sustaining a certain emotion or intention over an extended period of time.

But for me, this was the easy part. I was at my most relaxed when I was in the garden, going through the motions of digging and planting and weeding and pruning. I found it easier to drop into the creative state that was important for the Craft element of enchanting work and even to let my guard down, allowing my feelings to run through my body, into my hands, my palms heating as I worked.

I had quickly learned my hands warming was a sure sign I’d succeeded in balancing the thoughtful Craft with the thoughtless feelings required to make my enchantments work. I guessed that was what Thorne called flow.

In spite of the Beast’s advice that painful emotions were the easiest to call on, for this work, I was thinking of home.

A smile flickered over my face as I thought of Rosehill, of the people who would benefit from these enchantments.

I’d selected all the plants I used for healing work, planning to make tinctures or syrups or teas that I could take home with me when I left the Cursed Court, plus a few that I was interested in experimenting with and that I thought might be useful. With my new access to magic, I hoped I could brew up drafts to put someone into an enchanted sleep, soothe a temper, and disguise the taste of the bitter medicines children hated taking.

Poking a hole in the first pot, I dropped in the first of the seeds before covering it over again, making it a warm bed in the compost, a place for it to draw what it needed from me and its surroundings to grow. And to think, this tiny seed would eventually calm a fever, perhaps even save the life of one of the people whom I loved back in Rosehill.

Warmth rushed through my palms.

“I thought I might find you here.”

I glanced up at the Beast’s dry tones, my hands still hovering over the pot.

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