This is not how my parents envisioned me attending macassar University for the Gifted. Not since my fifth birthday when I grew a moorbei seed into a huge and sprawling tree in the centre of our yard. I’m sure they imagined a much more springy and shiny encounter than the dark and foreboding one I’m experiencing. But someone had to continue their investigation, and the posthumous letter in the post, sealed the deal.
That in itself was some kind of magic. Last I heard a post office in Claremont was used as a place of murder instead of a place of letters and gifts. Monsters are everywhere. But here I’ve learnt that some protect instead of harming.
The Shadows skip and coil along the walls and floors next to the university building, trailing me to my favourite place. The sand dunes shift and move constantly here on the False Bay Coast. But I’ve managed to carve out a large plot where I feed the Cape Fats Dune Strandveld and White Milkwwod and an array of other plants I found dormant deep in the soil. A beautifully curated eco system, maintained it its natural environment.
My garden. My joy. My peace.
A refuge nestled between the edge of a cliff where wind howls up, hungry for a taste of life, and the old University bricks, laid over someone’s silence. But Macassar has always been a place for those cast out, prisoners, slaves and now us.
My fellow students comment on how colourful and rich it looks from the windows of the old Zandfliet Library building that is now called the Macassar University for the Gifted. They don’t know what this place was used for. But soon, they will.
Power thrums through my skin as my plants call for me. It’s no secret that I’m feeding them. Besides the fact that we declare our abilities on registration, the Milkwood is a dead giveaway. On the list of endangered plant species, in my garden, they are alive and thriving. I swear I feel them reaching back through the soil, feeding me energy back as I feed them mine. Like oxygen and carbon dioxide in trees.
Our give and take relationship ensures this little spot is people free. A safe place to hide the evidence I stole from the tombs under the building. My heartbeat is still a wild staccato after walking out without being noticed.
I strategically elected myself to nurture the plants all around campus. Authority doesn’t question my movements. I’m a good student, never get in trouble. My parents letter told me everything they knew, but when I got here, the Milkwood told me more. They don’t forget. They hold memories in their sap, in their roots.
My fingers fall from the rock bricks I now know were carved by the enslaved, before entering the garden. The Shadows slip across the sand, like receding waves, gliding and coiling along the tree stumps as I move further in, ready to hide the history I’ve shoved into my pockets. I couldn’t carry everything out of the hidden basement tombs. Some of the papers looked like they’d become dust if I touched them. I took pictures on my phone instead, careful not to disturb anything. The Shadows alerted me to any movement close to the entrance of the underground tombs. It’s how I’m able to sneak around indoors without being detected. The Shadows never let me fail.
The wind shifts, whistling past my ears, carrying salt from the sea and the sound of trickling water. I freeze. Ears pricked, my eyes dart around the trees and small plants.
Oh. This is why they were calling me. Someone is here. My plants tell me exactly who, but with the way my spine tingles, I already know, without seeing his face.
Hand sin my pockets, protecting my precious cargo, I demand. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t even look up. Not that I expected him to.
I sigh, exaggerating the sound to make sure he hears me.
“Thobias?”
“Shh. Your scaring the plants.”
Rolling my eyes, I place my hands on my hips. “The plants like me more than they like you. They’re not scared, I promise you that.” I don’t add that I am. Just a little. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
He chuckles, fiddling with the plants. The traitors. They like it.
It cannot be a co-incidence that of all nights, he is here now, a place he has never chosen to visit since I saw him that first night I arrived. My old best friend. I told him what happened and he embraced me, like his family hadn’t moved and disappeared all those years ago. I sunk into his soothing scent of mint and something I’ve been unable to name but thoroughly enjoy being close to.
I tell myself I seek him out for his familiarity. He doesn’t seem to mind. His parents are gone too. Another thing we have in common. Like the other students here.
Finally, he lifts dark brown orbs to mine. It knocks the breath out of me. I hate that he has this ability. I swallow my reaction, keeping my face stoic as he closes the water bottle with its cap. He swipes long shaggy brown hair from his forehead with his wrist. And then he stares.
My body tenses, torn between stepping back and leaning in. If I knew what he was doing here, the choice might be easier. Who am I kidding, it never is. Not with Thobias.
“I wanted to come to your garden.”
Skin flushing and shoulders tight, I watch him with narrowed eyes. Soft and cautious, I ask, “Why?”
He doesn’t move but the world has narrowed to just the two of us. My plants start humming into their roots. Even the Shadows around me still.
Voice dropping, he says, “I know everything you do Kaylin.”
My body coils, ready to spring to action, but I force my limbs loose and relaxed. It doesn’t sound menacing, but the thought scares me nonetheless. Our eyes hold fast. If he knows everything I’ve been doing, that’s a huge problem. I can’t bring attention to the evidence I’m holding on my person. I still need to save the images I took to a password protected file in my cloud somewhere. I can’t do any of that while he’s here.
Sterkgevriet, I say, “I don’t know what you mean.”
His voice drips with confidence. “I’ve been watching you.”
Eyes snapping to his I recall how his gaze plays hide and seek with mine, catching and letting go until we’re forced to pay attention elsewhere. Never like this. Attention centred on me. Eyebrows furrowing, I will my body not to react. I swallow and my breath quickens. My plants bristle. The Shadows shift uneasily. They’re reacting to the speed of my heart.
Mouth suddenly dry, I lick my lips. “Why have you been doing that?”
Lowering the watering can to the floor next to him, he takes a step towards me. Pauses to gauge my reaction. He knows I could use my plants to defend myself. The Shadows pulse in tune to my trees and small bushes around me. It’s a warm reminder that they’ll protect me too.
Hands clench at his side as the distance between us closes. “I haven’t been able to help myself.”
Heat floods each vein. Muscles liquify. Bones become jelly.
My plants hum loudly in my head, while the Shadows shift closer. Raising a hand to my throat, I swallow past the fear of discovery sitting heavy on my chest. He can’t know what I’ve found though. Can he? Does it matter if he does?
His eyes flick to my hand, then down to my chest rising and falling sharply. He steps into my space, until our shoes are but a hand apart.
This close, his dilated eyes tell me I haven’t been caught. I swallow my gasp and will the plants to stop their humming. Its distracting.
Our feelings have been brewing, years in the making. I couldn’t say it when he moved, but I can tell him now. Heart accelerating, I raise my chin. Soft, hesitant, I admit.
“I like when you watch me Thobias.”
His lips twitch open with a surprised gasp and his eyes darken as they search my face.
He swallows. “You do?”
Too afraid to blink, my gaze bounces between his light brown eyes. The Shadow’s softness surround me. Surprises me. When I’m around danger, they’re hard, unyielding. They show me who to trust. And right now they trust Thobias. Which means he doesn’t know about what I’ve been doing. Relief lifts the corners of my mouth. Heat builds between us, drowning out the rest of the world when I nod.
His hand slides to my neck, fingers threading under my hair, heating my skin where his soft fingers touch. My body trembles. Our breaths tangle. He closes the distance between us and his warmth surrounds me. The smell of him, mint and something darker.
I’m transfixed when he drags his tongue over his bottom lip. Voice rasping like the wind across the sand dunes, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”
Shadows start to twirl and swirl, forming a cocoon around us. Even now, they’re protecting me from unwanted eyes and gossip. They know this is a memory I’ll want for myself.
Instead of answering, I rise on tip toes, brushing my lips against his softly. My eyes drift closed and I sink into him. One hand tightens on my nape, while the other wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I dig my fingers into his hair, dragging my nails against his scalp. He groans against my lips, kissing up my jaw.
The Shadows rise, lifting us. Our legs twine around the other, an anchor in the wave of our first kiss. I pull his mouth back to mine and gasp as tingles swoop in my lower belly, as If I’m on a swing, flying high into the sky.
Thobias uses that to suck at my bottom lip, to lick into my mouth, caressing my tongue with his. I press closer and our kiss deepens into a frenzy as we keep spinning in slow circles. Despite the heaviness I’ve been carrying, lightness flints alive at how right this feels. I smile against his lips and he responds by pulling me closer, angling my jaw with his thumb to deepen the strokes of his tongue. My plants vibrate into the soil as I get drunk on the taste of him.
We sink slowly to the floor, still locked in a tight embrace, still nipping at each other. Pulling away, I’m surprised by how bright his eyes are sparkling, a question lurking in its depths.
He holds out his hands. I take them and watch as the shadows that have been protecting me from the day I started here, retreat into him. My heart does a Netflix Ta-dum and my stomach drops as I watch them disappear under his skin. I lift wide eyes to his.
“They’re yours?”
He nods, biting his lip. His eyes glint with fear as he waits for my reaction. This is what he meant when he said he’s been watching me. He knows exactly what I’ve been doing, He knows what I’m currently hiding. I don’t need to explain and convince him of my choices. He already knows. My pulse drums fast. Every secret I thought was mine, lives within him. I sense that the Shadows carry the secrets of this land with them too.
Hands squeezing his, I lean forward and kiss him, resting my forehead against his. “Thank you for protecting me Thobias. I’m glad I’m not alone anymore.”
He shakes his head. “You were never alone.”
The world stills. The Shadows coil around him. Tight. Tighter. I watch fascinated.
He pulls back with a with a torn expression, both affection and fury. He threads our fingers together while the Shadows that followed me here coil around my wrists, cool and light. My garden stills, as do I, waiting as everything inside me pauses. I watch him draw in slow steady breaths.
With steady eyes, he says, “I want in on the plan to get back at the Expeditioners who killed our parents.”
The Shadows and Milkwood both seem to whisper: “Who killed our Roots.”