Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“Patience,” George said. “It’s not a race. First, focus on your body—steady your breathing.”
She breathed deeply, returning her attention to the flower. Closing her eyes, she focused on all that she knew about it—its needs for survival, every fact she could recall. She poured in her love for the subject, her desire to learn more, to grow in knowledge as an individual.
She opened her eyes. Still nothing.
“Keep going—focus, Isla. Clear your mind of doubt, get out of your head—focus on your intent; precision of thought shapes the energy’s direction. Remember what we discussed during the pottery class.”
She heard George’s continued instructions, his voice soft and nonintrusive, kind and encouraging.
“First, focus on your body, connect to the earth. Then focus your mind. Finally, open your heart to your emotional resonance. By opening your heart, you will feel the frequency that opens the channel to use your gifts.”
Closing her eyes again, she took a calming breath and reminded herself of his words in that class that seemed long ago.
She felt the soft earth beneath her shoes.
She focused on her knowledge, her thirst for understanding, her love for the nature surrounding her.
She opened her mind to something that surprised her: humility.
Humility in the knowledge that she wasn’t all knowing, that she didn’t have to control everything.
Her drive to have order, to prove her worth, had been holding her back from accepting that even a woman with multiple degrees knew so little about the world around her.
She needed to open herself to so much more.
She breathed again, trying to open her heart to accept the new wonders that she had yet to discover.
This time, when she opened her eyes, the pink chrysanthemum bloomed. Its bright petals unfurled, and the flowers around it responded in kind.
“I did it! I actually did it, in a deliberate way!” she breathed, half laughing, half disbelieving—while, at the same time, realizing she’d opened herself to something wonderous. She hadn’t lost control—she’d chosen it, shaped it—and it had answered her.
George laughed. “Blimey. Andrew wasn’t kidding when he said you were a quick learner.”
Isla looked over at Andrew. He was watching her now, and even from across the field, she could feel the intensity of his gaze. He looked pleased for her.
“But I’ve been failing for days.”
“Nah,” George said. “Most take a lot longer to grasp their gifts.”
Isla’s mind flashed back to the torture she’d endured, her heart twisting in her chest. She didn’t have the luxury of time the way others seemed to. Those people could find her—whether she was prepared or not.
George continued to guide her, helping her wield other vegetation. At one point, with overzealous force, Isla accidentally sent shoots rapidly bursting from the ground—entwining his legs so he couldn’t move.
“Gah! George, I’m so sorry!”
Suppressing a chuckle, George used his own Terra skills to extricate himself as she loosened her control, smoothly guiding the greenery away from his legs.
“Not a problem. The wielding side will become more natural the more you practice. Soon, you won’t even have to think about it, as it will become second nature.”
“It is all rather exciting! I read that it’s possible for a Terra Summoner to crack open the earth itself.”
George chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Possible, yes—though I’ve never actually seen it done. It takes extraordinary strength to move the ground that way. Most of us can barely stir the soil, let alone split it.
“Now then,” he continued with a knowing grin, “I suggest you head over to Andrew. He’s been itching for you to join him.” He folded his arms, amusement dancing in his eyes, as if he knew the two of them were growing closer by the day. She tried to stop a blush rising to her cheeks.
He took pity on her and continued talking, though his smile told her he knew she was blushing.
“Summoning should come more easily now—for the smaller things, at least. Once you’ve grasped how to wield, well, it’s a bit like tipping the first domino.
Everything else starts to fall into place.
After that, it’s simply a matter of building your endurance. ”
“Thank you, George. You’ve been a wonderful teacher.”
He modestly brushed off her thanks and began limping back toward the targets. She walked beside him, a comfortable silence between them. He was becoming another good friend.
Andrew greeted her with a soft smile. “I’m impressed, Isla. Though it’s hardly surprising you’ve picked it up so quickly. You always were a powerful Terra.”
His words confused her, but her focus was soon drawn into the warmth radiating from his smiling blue eyes—eyes that had once taunted and teased. Though teasing still happened, it was just different now. “George has been a good teacher.”
“I’m glad—he’s a good man. Ready to try Summoning?” At her nod, Andrew placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her toward the target, standing close behind her.
“Now,” he began, his voice quiet, “everyone learns to connect to the Arts in their own way. We all have different upbringings, experiences, ways of thinking. I can’t tell you exactly how to summon, but I can show you how to open yourself to it.
What you just practiced with George—wielding what you can see—is the foundation.
Summoning is simply taking that connection a step further. ”
He paused, letting the words settle. “Start small. Focus on summoning a leaf, a vine, or a handful of soil. Picture it as it exists, then focus on it appearing in your hands. You’re not moving earth from the ground beneath you into your palm; you are creating it, or summoning it, straight to you.
With this ability, you could be in a concrete building yet still manage to summon wet, sloppy mud pies. ”
She smiled at his mention of her earlier complaint.
“Don’t rush. Let it come as naturally as the wind brushing past you or the sun warming your skin.”
Isla nodded, holding her palm out. She focused on her hand, picturing a clover. Nothing appeared.
Warm hands settled on her upper arms. Andrew’s hands felt reassuring and supportive; his touch made her feel less alone.
She looked over at Juliette though, wondering if her friend had noticed the two of them getting closer just as George had.
She would never hear the end of it. Juliette was living in the moment, focused on her target.
She laughed at something Edmund said. Her friend’s smile reminded her that she had friendship too.
She took a deep breath, renewing her focus.
Andrew leaned in from behind, his words close to her ear, his breath warm on her cheek. “I believe in you, Isla. You can do this. You aren’t alone.”
As he drew back, the light scrape of his stubble brushed her skin, sending a shiver through her. His words echoed in her mind—steadying, reassuring—yet his nearness left her pulse unhelpfully quickened. Concentration suddenly felt impossible when all she could think about was how close he had been.
She closed her eyes again, trying to tune out her new exciting feelings toward Andrew and focusing on summoning. She wasn’t alone.
The intense fear that had cloaked her heart as a child cracked. The fear that her parents didn’t want her, that she wouldn’t be wanted by others, loosened its grip at his words. It was fear that had held her back—not from achievements in the world, but from forming relationships.
Fear was a shadow, whispering lies and chaining her to the past. It had made her keep the world at arm’s length, suppressing her passions and allowing only snippets of feelings instead of a whole rainbow of emotions.
Just as she accepted that she needed to be free of fear in more ways than one, as well as the feeling of her success and the process of wielding, she felt a gentle leaf appear in the palm of her hand.
She looked down, and there on her hand lay a clover, surrounded by a green mist.
“I did it!” she squealed.
Isla spun around and wrapped her arms around Andrew. He nearly toppled backward but laughed at her exuberance. Shocked that she was the one to initiate the contact, she quickly stepped back, her cheeks aflame. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
Looking delighted, Andrew’s smile widened. “Never apologize for throwing yourself into my arms.”
Her cheeks deepened in color as she narrowed her eyes at him, caught somewhere between embarrassment and amusement.
“I’m here for anything you need, Isla.”
His tone was humorous, but his eyes held something deeper. As they spent time together, she felt they were moving closer to something special. But she was still scared, despite how far she’d come. She cleared her throat.
“I suppose that means you’re prepared to take responsibility for supervising my next experiment?” she asked.
“Experiment?” He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching.
With a playful smirk, she focused her energy, feeling the subtle pulse of earth beneath her fingertips. A perfectly round mud pie appeared in her hand, and she lobbed it straight at Andrew, who barely had time to dodge—though not before a small splatter landed on his shoulder.
“Very scientific,” he muttered, wiping the mud off his jacket with mock indignation, his eyes twinkling. “I’ll have to note that in your experimental report.”
Smiling, she tipped her chin toward the target.
Over the next hour she felt a smug satisfaction that George had in fact been right—earth did pack a punch. Although she felt drained, she could feel her mind and body getting used to using her gifts for longer stretches of time.
She also knew that she had been wrong. A certain professor wasn’t intolerable as she had once thought, not in the least.