THE FLOWER CHILDREN

Chapter 11

THE tasks grew rapidly harder as time passed, Asmeen progressed in making Alda's scarf, and her arguments with Aven got even worse.

As they were now spending nearly the entire day in that field, she and Aven were getting to know each other rather well. By that, she meant she knew which insults would barely annoy him, and which would really bother him. And he seemed to know the same about her.

Their taunts had become more personal as a consequence, now including dressing sense, hygiene—they both claimed the other smelled, even though obviously they didn't—and much more. Asmeen would've been ashamed of her behavior if it was with any other person, but since it was Aven, who did the same...she couldn't find it in herself to feel sheepish.

It seemed Elyn and Wylla were ashamed on her behalf, though, now that nearly all of the older pairs knew of their bickering. No one would say anything to Dara or Osoric, of course, but they were asked to shut up multiple times. At which point they would simply glare at each other. Until they began bickering again. It was a cycle, really.

Still, they were falling into a consistent rhythm—argue, get scolded, glare, argue, repeat—and Asmeen would never admit it, but some part of her was growing to enjoy it. Aven was rather creative with his insults, so she was growing to be as well.

They were continuing with their pattern one day, making a more difficult potion together. Not that Asmeen could find much fault with his potion-making methods anymore—the insults were more general in nature.

Still, they were making significant progress, and Asmeen could tell that they were, in fact, one of the fastest pairs in the field that day, given that their potion had turned light lavender, which meant it was almost done, in contrast with most of the others', whose were still transparent.

Winds had started blowing quite harshly, whipping Asmeen's hair out of its braid, and she could see dark clouds gathering above.

She exchanged a worried look with Aven instead of returning an insult.

His face, for once, was serious. "We have to hurry. If it starts to rain before this potion turns dark..."

Asmeen pressed her lips together. "It'll be bad. But what can we do? It has to boil, and we can't make it boil any faster."

Aven sent her a dirty look. "I know that. Just—help me shield the fire." The wind had begun blowing their fire, making it flicker. Some others' fires had already gone out. Asmeen could hear the groans.

She crouched down beside Aven, her loosened hair brushing his extended arm, and the two of them tried to block the winds from reaching the fire. Asmeen kneeled, bringing her palms closer. While the fire was warming her hands... "This isn't really working."

Aven scowled. "Not much we can do, is there?"

"Just pointing it out," Asmeen said, her voice strained. She glanced at the front of the field, where the two leaders were studying the sky intently. Surely Dara and Osoric wouldn't blame them now, if something went wrong? They couldn't control the weather.

"Cover your cauldrons!" Dara yelled, as if reading her mind. "And run!"

As soon as she said that, the skies opened.

Asmeen looked at Aven, whose head whipped to her—she clasped his wrist and pulled them both back instantly. They stumbled back. But it wasn't far enough

As soon as the first few drops of rain hit the surface of their uncovered, lavender potion, it exploded.

Asmeen threw herself into Aven instinctively, and she felt his arms come around her as fire burst out from the surface of the potion, burning steam curling around them instantly, a heatwave rushing over them.