Laurel hid a smile as she cleared her throat and busied herself meaninglessly with an already-powdered mixture at the bottom of her mortar.

“So what do we do?” Tamani asked.

“I don’t know. I still don’t think we should drink this stuff. I wondered if it might have an effect on our skin—”

Immediately, Tamani offered her his forearm.

“—but I’m not about to start trying stuff at random. Mixing is pretty hands-on,” Laurel said. “I mean touch-dependent,” she amended. “I mean—before I try anything, I want to get a feel for your cellular makeup, which means I need to touch . . . you.”

Could that possibly have come out any worse? Laurel thought dismally as she watched Tamani try—and fail—to suppress his amusement.

“Okay,” he said, again holding out his hand, which was sparkling with pollen and looking more than a little magical.

“Actually,” Laurel said slowly, “what I’d really like to do is have you—” Pause. “Take your shirt off and then go to the window and sit in the sunlight. That way your cells can start actively photosynthesizing after having been at rest and I can hopefully feel that activity.”

“That almost makes sense,” Tamani said with a smirk. He walked over to her window seat and sat, then waited for her to come sit behind him. She was careful not to actually let any part of them touch. Not just because it wasn’t a good idea and severely hampered her concentration, but she had learned that if she could keep the rest of her body away from any kind of plant material, her fingers seemed more receptive.

“You ready?” Tamani asked, his voice soft and vaguely suggestive.

Laurel glanced out the window. The sun had just popped out from behind a cloud. “Perfect,” she said quietly. “Go ahead.”

Tamani stretched his long arms over his head, pulling off his T-shirt.

Laurel struggled for focus. She moved her hands to Tamani’s back and splayed her fingers over his skin. Her fingertips pressed in just a little as she closed her eyes and tried to feel, not Tamani in particular, but his cellular dynamics.

She cocked her head to the side as the sun warmed the back of her hands. It took her only a moment to realize her mistake. She was now blocking Tamani’s skin from the sun’s rays. With a frustrated sigh, she lifted her hands, and placed them back down, this time lower and along one side of his ribs where the sun had just been shining. She felt him shift a little, but she was in concentration mode now, and even Tamani couldn’t affect her.

Much.

Laurel had learned from Yeardley how to feel the essential nature of any plant she touched. He assured her that, with study and practice, this feeling would eventually tell her everything she needed to know about a plant—particularly, what it could do if mixed with other plants. She should be able to do the same with Tamani. And if she could find some way to feel the differences between the two of them . . .

But every time she thought she’d felt something, it faded. She wasn’t sure whether it was because she kept blocking the sunlight, or because the differences she was looking for simply didn’t exist. And the harder she tried, the less she seemed to find. By the time she realized she was squeezing Tamani so hard her fingers were aching, she couldn’t feel any difference at all.

She let go of Tamani and tried not to notice the subtle divots her fingers had left in his back.

“Well?” Tamani asked, turning to her and leaning against the window without making any move to put his shirt back on.

Laurel sighed, frustration washing over her again. “There was . . . something, but it’s like it went away.”

“Do you want to do it again?” Tamani leaned forward, bringing his face close to hers. He spoke softly, genuinely. No trace of flirting or teasing.

“I don’t think it would help.” She was still trying to sort out the sensations she felt in her fingertips. Like a word on the tip of her tongue, or an interrupted sneeze, so close that staring at it would only chase it away. She closed her eyes and placed her fingers against her temples, massaging them slowly, sensing the life in her own cells. It was as familiar as ever.

“I wish . . . I wish that I could . . . feel you better,” she said, wishing she knew a better way to say it. “I just, I can’t quite get at what I’m trying to reach. It’s like your skin is in the way. At the Academy I would slice my sample open, but obviously that’s not an option right now,” she said with a laugh.

“What else do you do when you can’t figure out what a plant does? Besides cut it open, I mean,” Tamani asked.

“Smell it,” Laurel responded automatically. “I can taste the ones that aren’t poisonous.”

“Taste?”

She looked up at Tamani, at his half smile. “No,” she said, instantly knowing what he had in mind. “No, no, no, n—”

Her words were cut off as two pollen-dusted hands cupped Laurel’s cheeks and Tamani pressed his mouth against hers, parting her lips with his own.

Stars exploded in Laurel’s head, their rainbow ashes coalescing into a torrential pastiche, a rapid-fire flipbook of flower parades and crazy. Through her head, unbidden, fleeting, and difficult to grasp, poured thoughts that made her giddy and queasy at once. Mix with zantedeschia stamens for a potent antitoxin. Age revitalization in animals if fermented with amrita. Injectable Enticement block, rose petals, photo-resistor, salve daisies balm tincturepoisonnectardeath—Laurel jerked away from Tamani, too dazed to slap him.