Page 24 of Flowerheart

Again, the door opened to the sound of a jingling bell. Xavier gasped, his gaze on the floor as I looked up.

Dozens and dozens of pink peonies had popped up between the floorboards.Peonies: a sign of shame,saidWaverly’s.

I dropped to the floor and tore up the blooms.

“Stop! Stop!” Xavier cried as I crumpled flowers and ripped their stems in half.

I paused, my chest heaving, my cheeks clammy with tears.

He knelt before me, delicately plucking a flower. “Peonies are useful in all sorts of healing and protective potions. We could use these for ingredients.”

“Then you should thank me. I’ve given you enough to last you a lifetime.” I rubbed my sleeve hard against my eyes. “I’m sorry about the potion. And your sense of taste. Andthis. I can’t evenstand stillin your shop without my magic destroying something. How... how am I supposed to learn to bless my father?”

“We’ll find a way.” He continued to gather flowers, and for the first time I noticed how his hands shook. How loud his breathing was. How his skin had grown white as chalk.

I was so wrapped up in my own failure I hadn’t noticed that he was in pain. “Don’t trouble yourself with these,” I said, tugging on some flowers tucked between the floorboards. “You’re exhausted.”

“No, no, I’m fine. My magic can make me a little winded, nothing more.”

My stomach clenched. “Are you certain you’re all right?”

His eyes wrinkled at the corners when he smiled. “Never better.”

He might be a talented wizard, but he was a dismal liar.

6

With every spell he cast, Xavier seemed more and more weary. And he was casting many spells. Perhaps even more than he usually would, thanks to my mistakes. After the incident with the anti-nausea potion, he’d decided to follow in the footsteps of my prior teachers, allowing me to combine the ingredients but never to imbue my power into the mixture.

At five o’clock, Xavier shut the door behind our final customer—one of dozens that day—and turned the sign fromOpentoClosed. He dropped into the chair beside the little kitchen table and massaged his eyes.

I cautiously approached his table, setting a steaming cup of tea before him.

“I figured it’s the least I could do, after today,” I said, my voice small and defeated. “And if you can taste it, well, I’ll feel just a little better about myself.”

He thanked me and took a careful sip. When his shoulders loosened and a tired smile crossed his face, relief passed over me like a cool breeze.

“Lavender,” he said. The smallest spark of humor lit up his eyes. “See? No irreversible damage.”

“Thank goodness.”

But I couldn’t help but think of the real damage my magic had caused. I tried to keep my worries inside, plying myself by unwinding and winding my braid, but by his second sip of tea, I could feel magic crawling under my skin.

“I know we’ve just finished work,” I said, “but can you teach me how to cast a blessing now?”

Any alertness in his eyes faded away. “It—it isn’t something you can learn to do so fast.”

“Thenwhenshall I learn?” I pressed. Papa’s heart would only grow weaker.

Xavier’s gaze arced across the ceiling as if it could bring him an answer. “Well, if you like, I can show you what a blessing would look like.” He held out a finger in warning. “But remember what I said. This kind of magic takes great control and great intention. With yours as... spirited as it is, it could take weeks of practice—”

“You saw my father; I can’t sit here and make play-magic potions forweekswhile he’s so ill!”

Xavier rubbed a hand against his arm. “Those potions will teach you how to tame your power,” he said. “If you canlearn to direct your magic with little enchantments, a great spell like a blessing will be feasible one day.”

I scoffed. “I did horribly with the potion, though.”

His lips twisted in a thoughtful frown. “I don’t know if I’d sayhorribly. Your power was just excessive. Your potion was effective, I suppose. With no sense of taste, it’s hard to become nauseous. It just became... too much. I intend to read more about this as soon as I can—”

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