Chapter 31
“Try cupping your hand. See if that allows you to better call the metal.”
Askel and I stood on a dirt patch out of view of the front-lines camp. We’d been at this for hours, and while I’d been able to amplify my wind powers with ease under his direction, I still struggled as I attempted to call a knife from his belt to my hand, sweat rolling down my face and neck.
“Try relaxing more. When you try to force it I think it makes it even harder for you.”
I snapped my eyes shut, inhaling deeply before opening them once more. I focused on the knife at his belt, the one with the engraved handle. The one with the face that was looking right at me. Come to me.
It didn’t even wiggle.
I groaned and dropped into a sitting position, dust flying up. “Maybe I was never meant to have this metal calling power.”
Askel made a tsking sound, taking a seat next to me.
Though it had been hard to talk with him when we’d first started this training session, the more I worked with him, the more I was beginning to like him.
He was one of those people who was like an onion—with many layers to peel back.
“That’s not how magic works, and you know it. ”
That drew my attention. I peered at him through my fingers. “I actually don’t know, enlighten me.”
Askel rested his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his hands.
“The Seid believe that all magic is available to everyone who is willing to welcome it into their life tapestry. The books, the reading, it’s all about choosing what magic you want to bind to your soul.
Anyone can bind to any power. There is no such thing as a magic that isn’t able to be used by a specific person. ”
That was more than I’d learned from the books in Leif’s library. But it still didn’t tell me how to call the knife to me. “Ugh, I hate this.”
Askel’s hand came to rest on my back. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t believe the Seid were supposed to learn magic like this.
” I sat up straighter. “I think we were meant to be raised with it—read powers at a young age with our coven. Everything you are doing now . . . you’re trying to shove years of learning into a single day. ”
I sighed. It made sense. Another failure of my parents.
“But listen,” he continued. “We have time. You don’t have to master the calling of metal today.”
Even as he said those words, the sounds of metal meeting metal flowed in our ears. We weren’t that far from the battlefield, which was just over the hills. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
“I know,” he agreed, standing and brushing off his hands, extending one to help me to my feet. “Let’s try again? This time, call the wind first, before trying to call to the metal, because you have better control over that power.”
I nodded, clenching and unclenching my hand.
“Force me back!” Askel shouted, and then he was running at me, a scowl on his face.
I raised my hands, releasing a puff of air, enough to ruffle Askel’s hair, but not enough to slow his run. “Good, but not enough!” He was almost to where I was standing, “More!”
I jumped out of the way, allowing him to run past, recomposing myself as he ran in a half circle until he was facing me again. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, trying to remember what I had felt the night I’d made a windstorm at Cal’s house.
I had been scared and angry.
I called those emotions to me, working to direct them into the energy I felt brewing behind my palms.
Remember, Adis’ father killed an entire generation of your people.
Flames licked beneath my skin, and I forced the feeling behind the energy in my outstretched arms.
“Good!” Askel called. I opened my eyes to dust whirling around me, nearly obscuring him from view. “Now we just need you to direct the dust storms toward the enemy!”
The words reached my ears, but I didn’t tear my gaze from Askel’s belt, where the knife, while not flying through the air, was wiggling. I narrowed my eyes. Come to me.
“What are you—”
He was interrupted by the slap of his knife landing in my upturned palm.
The windstorm died as I stared at the way the metal reflected in the sunlight.
“You did it!” he shouted, jogging up next to me.
I flipped the knife over, observing the face on the hilt, which was also inlaid with gold. It was a beautiful knife, unlike anything I had ever seen before.
“It was a gift from my parents.” His voice was barely a whisper in my ears; I hadn’t noticed him approach. I moved to hand it back.
“Thanks.” He turned it over in his own hand, letting out a breath before tucking it back in its sheath.
Askel stepped back again, but before he could ask me to repeat what I had accomplished, I decided to ask the question that had been bothering me all morning.
“Do you have any magic?”
His face froze, as if I had struck him.
“Sorry, I—”
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
Askel glanced toward where the sounds of battle were coming from before turning back to me, pointing to his eyes that did not have a gold rim. “It’s not that, it’s just that Otho and I don’t agree on this.”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath, absentmindedly rubbing his arm.
“My parents were very enthusiastic about being Seid, and unlike most in Ralheim, they intended to teach me as soon as I was old enough.” His finger came up to scratch his ear, and I spotted a slight tremor.
“Most covens shared books, with each member owning one. Most of Ralheim had stopped reading magic years before the Purge because of the increasing persecution, but my parents . . .”
“They had magic,” I concluded.
He nodded. “And they told me and my sister that as soon as we were old enough—” He swallowed. “The Purge happened the next year.”
I remembered what Otho had said about his sister, and I rested my hand on his shoulder to save him from the admittance that was ripping him apart. “I understand. I’m sorry.”
“I think we should be taking this time to read what we can before this war gets worse,” he admitted with a shuddering breath. “But Otho—”
“Thinks it’s dangerous,” I finished for him.
“Yes.”
Our conversation stalled then, and I relistened to our conversation in my head.
There was one thing that didn’t add up. While I might have once swallowed that question, in hopes of not upsetting anyone, now there was nothing to prevent me from asking it.
“But if you were the only one left alive, how did you end up in the military?”
“I was twelve when the Purge happened.” His voice was devoid of emotion. “I was a second child.”
It was my turn to gulp. He was three years younger than me.
“I was supposed to go to Adis anyway. The Purge just hastened the timeline by a few weeks.”
I looked Askel up and down, wondering if I too, appeared tired beyond my years. I thought back to the time I’d recently spent with Otho. “I think Otho might be changing his mind about magic.”
It was impossible not to feel the way Askel’s mood perked before his shoulders slumped once more. “He’s probably just saying that. Otho has been against magic for as long as I’ve known him.”
I realized then that I had no idea how old Otho was. “Have you known him long?”
Askel shrugged. “He was all I knew after my parents. When I was brought to Adis’s, I was strong and tall for my age. Instead of starting in the household, I was sent straight to the barracks.”
The exact opposite of me. “Otho was already general then?” I couldn’t explain the way my heart gripped in my chest, desperate for the answer.
“No.” The corner of Askel’s lips quirked up.
“He was a twenty-year-old captain then, He’d been with Adis for two years, but as you can imagine .
. .” He checked over his shoulder again, as if Otho could come at any moment.
“With his attitude, skills with a sword, and muscle like that, he climbed the ranks faster than anyone ever has before.”
It felt like my whole body blushed at his words, but at least I had been able to answer my question.
Otho was thirty.
“But that’s enough gossip.” He moved a few paces away before shifting into a fighting stance. “We’ve got some magic to train.”