Page 11 of Iris
I giggle. Like a schoolgirl. Fuck me.
“Deal.” I’ve just agreed to give this thing a shot.
“You know that I’m in.” Noah bumps his hip against mine. “Are we going on a date all together?”
“I don’t see why not.”
I share another kiss with Noah. Dorian kisses my forehead gently. “We’ll see you soon.”
“Well, thank goodness for birth control spells, am I right?” Igor chattily provides that commentary as they walk out the door.
After I’ve agreed to see them for the promised date, they leave. Dorian has decided I've had enough thrown at me for one day and I need a break. Noah argued, but I agreed with Dorian. I need time to think.
Mates are a huge commitment. I can’t believe that book had the sort of magic that created a link for mates. I know that last year some people gained mates from Jewel’s Cafe, but it had only really affected those named after gemstones. I’ve put together the clues. I need to research this more later.
My mind won’t shut off, even after cleaning the kitchen and vacuuming the rugs. Igor is next to the daffodils on the kitchen bar.
“Feel like going out to the greenhouse? We can plant those around the pond.” It’s late, but there is no way I’ll be able to sleep anytime soon.
“Let’s do it. The frog that was visiting is still there. He owes me from last week's poker game. I want my flies.”
I swear. My life changed drastically when Igor came into it. it's never a boring day when she’s around. it's a part time job on its own to just keep tabs on her. If I let her, she’ll run rampant in town, terrifying and/or ruling over the humans. Don’t ask me how, but she would.
Once we get to the back door, I carry Igor and the potted flowers, I slide out of my fuzzy slippers and into my flip flops that are there just for these occasions. Night has fully set, the stars are out, and the crickets seem to be playing a symphony of music as we enter the greenhouse.
Igor ends up on her favorite table in the greenhouse. She is able to see most of the flowers from her perch. She is looking around, mumbling about rip-off frogs.
I take the flowers from Dorian over to the pond I’ve set up for my own pleasure. This is where I come when I need to destress from anything. I bury my toes and hands into the soil surrounding the pond and just let my magic seep into it. it's soothing since my magic is able to touch all the plants in my area. Feeling their energy always seems to make everything just seem small in the grand sense of things.
That doesn’t happen tonight. After the flowers are planted and I’ve gotten comfortable, my magic refuses to move. It just hovers within me like there’s a dam holding it in place. it's the weirdest feeling. When I push on it, it rebounds. I end up lying flat on my back with a huge headache.
“Ow.” When I roll over to my stomach, Igor is in front of me.
“What was that?” Her head moves, looking at the pond then over to me.
My head feels like someone has hammered inside of it. “No idea. My magic backfired on me. That’s never happened before.”
“Maybe you just went too fast, too hard?” Igor is being serious with her question.
“Maybe. I’m going to try something easier,” even though what I just attempted is usually second nature to me, “I have the seedlings for the vines for the dance, I’ll work on them.”
I’ve decided on honeysuckles, which I have plenty of already, they would just need a little push to multiply faster. I also want sky flowers to work with the honeysuckles on the walls. I’ve never grown them before, but after reading up on them, they seem like they’ll be perfect. I have plenty of seeds for them from an order last year. I’ve stored them so they’ll be fresh and ready for planting when I need them.
My head is still pounding but I ignore it. I have a job to do. Igor has gotten a planter out of storage that’s eight feet by two. it's perfect to start the building blocks for these flowers. The next part is easy, if a little time consuming.
Igor starts humming Waltz of the Flowers as I work to put the seeds into their spots, cover them, make sure there’s enough nutrients in the soil before watering them, and place stakes to help the plant when it grows larger. The simple task has helped with my headache. I'm ready to try again.
“Here we go.” My words are soft as Igor still hums in the background.
This time, I rest my hands on top of the soil before sending my magic outward. The magic, at first, comes like it always has, like a spring flowing, but as I push the magic into the seedlings, it starts to burn.
When the little bulbs push out of the soil, instead of green, they are brown, like they are dried out and on the verge of death. I pull my magic back, rubbing my wrists, as Igor and I look at the seedlings silently.
“You’re just tired. Why don’t we go to bed?” Igor suggests softly. “There’s nothing we can do right now if you’re sick.”
