Authors: Kate Sparkes
Of course, that would have been easier had I felt able to approach Ulric to ask him for help with cracking the hard earth.
And I will,
I told myself.
I just want to try, first.
I located a dip in the earth where I felt the pull of water more strongly than elsewhere—a spot where the underground lake or river had weakened the ground. I searched for the peace I’d felt at Stone Ridge. I pictured Glass Lake, and the ocean at home lapping gently at the hulls of fishing boats.
My magic stirred.
That’s it.
I forced myself to relax into it.
Let it flow through you,
I reminded myself.
Let it happen. It is your gift.
I’d learned to claim the peace when I tried small things. But anything larger had thus far proved a challenge, one that still made no sense to me.
My chest tightened, and a wave of cold washed over me from my face to my toes, accompanied by a soft tremor coursing through my body. Dark panic flooded my mind, and a strange feeling like grief. I opened my eyes, and the warm sensation of my magic disappeared. Nothing had changed.
The squirrel let out a stream of what I assumed were profanities.
“Go stuff yourself with a nut,” I muttered, and sat on a mossy boulder.
I turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps, half-hoping to see Aren appear among the trees. Instead, Griselda pushed between the overlapping branches of a pair of pines. She set her hands on her hips and looked down at me.
“Having troubles?”
I smiled and held out a hand to let her help me back to my feet. “You could say that. Just feeling blocked, that’s all.” I brushed the pine needles off the back of my pants. “Did Ulric send you?”
“No. Aren did, actually. He saw you leave and wanted me to see if you needed help.”
I ignored how pleasant that made me feel. “Will Ulric be angry if you help me?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps. But he has charged me, and all of us, with working in his best interests. I believe you and your magic have a part to play in returning him to the throne, so really, I’m following orders.”
“I like how you think.”
She gave me an appraising look. “Perspective is the secret to many things in this life. So tell me, what’s happening with you? You’ve seemed frustrated and upset. I suspect this has something to do with the situation with Aren, but also your magic.”
“Among other things. I’m trying to focus on developing my skills.”
“Hmm. And how’s that coming?” She had her teacher demeanor on, serious and focused. It was something of a relief to fall back into my role as student, learning from a powerful and experienced Sorceress.
“Not so well,” I admitted. “I had a few breakthroughs when Ulric and I were in prison, and right after our escape I had this overwhelming abundance of magic at my disposal. That plus the control I learned in the cell allowed me to do incredible things. I made illusions to distract enemies, called water to crush them…” My throat closed, and I swallowed hard. “I killed one when he attacked me. But now it feels impossible. I know I’ve done these things before, but every illusion I create is a shadow of what I did in the city, and though I’m learning to push through my fear when I call water, I can only manage to draw small amounts from easy sources. I want it to be like it was before. I want to call a river to me if I need it.”
Griselda rubbed her slender fingers over her jaw. Her eyebrows drew together as she thought. “Tell me, why is this so important to you? You know how long it takes most people, even those with great power, to master a skill. You’ve said you know that what you did before was aided by many things—an excess of magic, the pressure of a life-and-death situation. Ulric has as good as excused you from battle. Why not relax?”
I chewed my lip and dug below the obvious answer. Clearly, I wanted to help remove Severn from power. But she was right. I was asking so much of myself. Everything I’d accomplished, even something as simple as drawing up water in an established well, was more than I’d dreamed possible back in the autumn. I considered what would happen if I failed, if I stopped pushing and let the skills come when they wished, if I stayed well away from this battle.
I thought of an eagle trapped in an enemy’s hands.
“It’s for Aren,” I admitted. “A few days ago he was badly hurt because I couldn’t use my magic to save him. He didn’t blame me for it, but I do. I blame myself. And I can’t let it happen again. I want to be there, wherever he’s going during this battle. And I want to fight. I don’t want to hide, or be a burden. I want to be able to protect myself and everyone else.”
“I see.” Griselda paced between the trees, and I left her to it. “And your magic. What exactly is the problem there?”
“I don’t know. For a time, I was afraid. I panicked every time I tried to use it, especially to call water. I saw the face of the man I killed, and it was horrifying. I had nightmares about hurting people with it.”
“And now?”
I drew a deep breath. “And now I’m forcing myself past that. I think I’ve accepted that I did what I had to. I saved myself and my friends from someone who would have killed us. But the feeling is still there. I can do small magic when I work through the tightness in my chest and the feeling that something terrible is about to happen. But when I attempt something big, I panic. It’s like I’m trying to force myself to jump off a cliff. I know I have to. I know I’ll land safely. But I freeze.” The words poured out of me unconsidered, but horribly truthful. I twisted a lock of hair between my fingers and pulled it tight, enjoying the physical solidity of the minor pain it caused. “Does that help?”
She raked her hands through her thick hair and nodded. “You mentioned Aren. Not yourself. Not the greater good or justice or peace between three nations.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “Those things are also important.”
Griselda chuckled. “I’m not doubting that they are to you. But he was first on your mind.”
“It happened so recently. I failed him twice on our journey. Once in not defending him, and once before that in not being able to heal him. I can accept that second part. Healing isn’t my gift. But yes, I want to use the skills I have to help him.”
“You love him.”
I nodded without hesitation. “I do. He’s not mine anymore. He can’t be. But that doesn’t change anything.” My chest tightened, but I forced myself to remain calm.
“Why is that? What keeps you apart?”
“My magic.” I winced. “I mean, the law. And Ulric.”
She smiled gently. “But those things would not be a problem if not for your magic?”
My shoulders slumped. I didn’t answer.
“I don’t blame my magic,” I said. “But it’s hard when I think about the hurt I’ve caused since I found out about it. My family had to flee Darmid, and my old community is shattered. People are dead because of me.”
“Enemies?”
“Some. But that’s not where it ends.” I sighed. “My father has disowned me and anyone who wouldn’t join him in renouncing me.”
Griselda winced. “That must hurt.”
My eyes burned. “It kills me. Della is dead. She was a mother to me, and she’s… she’s just gone.” A hot tear slipped out. “Maybe I’d have died if my magic had never showed itself, but maybe that would have been better. She’d be safe. So many people would still be alive. My family wouldn’t be displaced. Maybe the Wanderers would be alive, too, if Aren and I hadn’t stayed with them.”
The woods had gone silent.
“Good,” Griselda whispered.
I laughed, sharp and quick. “Good? What I’m saying is horrible.” I sniffled and wiped my nose on my sleeve. “I didn’t even know I thought all of this.” The thoughts seemed to have come from nowhere, yet felt intimately familiar.
She patted my arm. “Exactly. As I said, thoughts and perspective are the secret to many things in life. If we know them, we can change them. Follow it through. Say your magic had remained hidden. Say your family was safe. Say you had died. What else?”
A soft breeze rustled through the trees, and I breathed in the heady forest scents. “I suppose that would require me not finding Aren. So he’d be dead at the hands of Dorset Langley and Callum.” My heart froze at the thought. “Even if he did escape them, he’d still be working with Severn if he hadn’t met me. Ulric would still be in prison. Aren would never have found Nox, or returned to the lake and met with Kel, so Nox and Kel wouldn’t have met.” I dried the last of my foolish tears. “Severn would keep the throne. He’d attack Darmid.”
“And Belleisle, in time,” Griselda added softly.
I nodded. “Aren breaking away from Severn changed everything, didn’t it?”
“And you changed him.”
“Because of my magic.”
She smiled. “Not just your magic, I think. But it was the catalyst for everything that came after. And he’s not the only one who has changed.”
I leaned against the trunk of a birch and leaned forward to rest my hands on my knees. It was a lot to think about all at once. I looked up at her. “So you think I’ve played my part? I’m done?”
“No.” Griselda paced and stretched again. “You’ll accomplish far more than this, once you find your purpose. What do you think of your magic now?”
“I think…” I hesitated, searching for what I felt to be true rather than what I thought I was supposed to say. With everything laid out, it became clearer. “I think I’ve been pushing it away. I’ve known in my head that I should want it, that it was everything I’d always dreamed of, but it brought so much pain for so many people, it caused so much destruction, and I wasn’t prepared for that. But I see that it’s not bad. It’s not good. It is what I make of it. Isn’t it?”
My teacher flashed a mysterious smile. “If that’s what you believe of it.”
I sat and leaned against the tree and closed my eyes. With my most prominent sense closed off, the awareness of the water in the land and the trees flooded in.
Magic is like water,
I realized.
Absolutely necessary. Beautiful. Life-giving. But if you fight it, it will drown you.
And how I used it was my choice.
A slow smile spread across my face. There would still be fear and lingering doubts. Perhaps my anxieties wouldn’t disappear overnight.
But if I can let go of the guilt and the blame, and swim with the current…
Tingling warmth swept through me and settled into my body. When I opened my eyes, Griselda was smiling down at me.
“It will come,” she said. “You’ve made a good start. I do think you have more work to do on letting go of other things. It will help you let go of any lingering doubts.”
I sighed. “Aren? I know. It will just take some time.”
She gave my arm a comforting pat. “Good. Now, let’s see what you were working on.”
I climbed to my feet, dusted off again, and focused on the water beneath the ground. It responded, drawing upward. The chill of habitual fear came over me, but I gently pushed it aside.
Irrelevant. Carry on.
Magic flowed from me, sure and strong. The water came nearer, pushing and filtering through the soil until it hit the hard-packed layer beneath the forest floor.
I resisted the urge to force it, and ignored the thought that I should wait, that I should convince Ulric to come and crack the ground to make it easier.
Water is as strong as the earth,
I told myself.
It’s just a question of pressure, and what will break first.
One big pull…
I gritted my teeth, but not in pain or anger or fear. The effort was thrilling and exhausting all at once, an incredible feeling. Water broke through the ground, soaking the dirt and driving upward, eroding its path as the underground flow diverted up. A sinkhole opened and a new spring bubbled up, glinting clear and fresh in the tree-filtered sunlight.
I stopped. I let go. The water continued to flow.
Griselda stepped up behind me and rested her hands on my shoulders. “Now, that is something. You’ve changed so much here with your magic. And now we have water.” The smile in her voice was warm and approving. “A little shift in thinking is powerful, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t speak. It wasn’t the greatest feat of magic ever performed. It wasn’t even the greatest thing I’d done with water, in no way comparable to building up a wall of it, holding back the accumulated current of a river and releasing it over enemies. But I’d done it with my power and nothing more. And without fear.
My power.
I gasped. The warmth of my magic had faded, and I’d been too caught up on the results of it to notice. “Griselda? There’s one other problem.”
“Hmm?”
“My magic isn’t returning to me as quickly as it should. It’s taking its time. It always returns, but right now I feel quite depleted.”
The creases between her eyebrows deepened. “This is concerning. Not a question of perception. Do you think—”
A musical trill interrupted her. I stepped back as Gwyn descended and pulled up just in time to land on Griselda’s shoulder. My teacher reached up to scratch behind the little cat’s ears, and a loud, rumbling purr filled the air. Griselda glanced back toward camp.
“You’ve returned alone?”
Gwyn just purred.
“If they’re coming, you’d best finish the job. I’ll meet you in camp.” She reached into the pouch on her belt and produced a bit of dried meat that the cat wolfed down. “Go on, now.”
Gwyn spread her wings and leapt upward, then was gone.
“That was fast,” I said. “How did they come so quickly?”
“They’ll have been ready and waiting,” she said. “Albion never intended to not send help. He just needed to know where and when. We should get back.” She frowned at me, concerned. “Are you feeling weak?”
“Not at all. Just a little deflated, really.” I made myself smile. A little of the now-familiar warmth returned. “It will come in time. Hasn’t abandoned me yet.”
She didn’t seem comforted by that. Perhaps it only troubled me less because I hardly knew better. “Remember, you were in that prison with Ulric,” she cautioned. “Not for as long, but you had the same treatment as he did, and a binding before that. We’re still trying to figure out what has happened to him. Don’t break yourself before we find time to treat you. Agreed?”