CHAPTER 21
“Not all of life is within your control. As you learn to wield lifeforce, that will become less true.
“We start small. We start with things that have little control of their own, so that you may bend your will over them and push their lifeforce to do your bidding. Once you have mastered this, you can learn how to influence greater things.
“Above all else, you must maintain control. Without it, even the little things can push their will onto you.”
—Recounting from the private diary of Jerris, Dragonbound
SERAE
Mid-Autumn, Basmon 1036
I didn’t bother with training the next day or the day after that.
It was independence I craved and time to be on my own.
I had some very explicit instructions from Vaya’la on work that needed to be done.
The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, scattering pink rays through the windows and across the stone floors.
It cast a warmth over the castle, contrasting the early morning chill.
Outside my window, red and orange streaked across the land, lighting the forest ablaze with color.
Patches of evergreens dotted the mountains, enough that they would still look lush and green after all the deciduous leaves fell.
I dressed in a warm overdress and fleece-lined coat, then made my way to the back garden with the box of spices from Cergia tucked under my arm.
I had used nearly all the dried lavender, adding it to my tea.
Lavender grew naturally in these gardens, though not much would be left by mid-autumn.
My purpose this time was not to collect flowers.
I walked briskly to the spot where I knew it grew, having wandered these gardens so many times at this point.
The lavender was tucked into a corner near several other edible blossoms and some blooming garlic, all at the ends of their season.
I sat, kicked off my boots, and planted my feet directly in the soil. I closed my eyes.
Where do I begin? I was a bundle of nerves, hence the constant need for lavender’s calm.
“Breathe, steady your heart,” Vaya’la whispered.
I did, focusing on the chill of the damp soil between my toes. This was Vaya’la’s latest trick to connect me to Jaeda’s core without relying on strong emotion. But it meant I’d have to wash my feet somewhere discreet to avoid questions when I was done.
“Push your other thoughts aside,” she chided me.
“Right, sorry.”
“Feel for the connection.”
I dug my toes deeper. Then, remembering my last vision, I sank my fingers into the dirt. My breathing slowed, and I allowed my mind to still.
“Listen…”
Thump-thump… thump-thump… thump-thump…
It was my own heart.
“Deeper.”
I pushed lower, past my heart, past my center, down, down, down into the earth. At some point, my eyes closed. I stilled, except for my slow, steady breaths. Something hummed beneath me. It was an ancient rumbling. It was deep and earthy and so, so powerful.
“Can I touch it?”
“Yes.”
I reached out, not with my hands, but with myself, down toward that pulsing core.
Glowing strands of light, shining in every color of the spectrum at once, crisscrossed my mind.
They begged to be strummed like the strings of a lyre, each vying for my touch.
My fingers, still thrust into the soil, closed around the nearest strand, plucking it from the mass and pulling it into myself.
“Direct it, Small One. You must tell it where to go.”
I held out a hand, palm up. The power filled me, flowing and flowing inward. I started to sweat. The more the power flowed, the hotter my skin grew. It itched and burned.
“Direct it.”
“How?” I panicked. I couldn’t stop it. It just kept filling me, until I was bursting with overwhelming light. Make it stop. I needed it to stop!
“Open your eyes.”
They snapped open and locked onto the lavender in front of me. I thought of its smell, its taste, the way the tiny buds felt—soft on the plant but firm as rice when dried.
“Focus the energy out.”
I lifted my hand and tried, but nothing happened.
“Your right hand, Small One. Left is for in. Right is for out.”
I switched hands, plunging my left back into the ground and extending my right.
I channeled the energy through me, becoming the conduit.
My hand burned, but I pushed my will into the texture, smell, taste, and sight of the lavender.
I became the lavender. I imagined it sprouting from me in tall fronds, until the entire surface of my hand was nothing but pale purple blossoms.
“Close the connection,” Vaya’la urged, pushing an image of a pond into my mind.
I yanked my hand from the earth and rocked back on my bum until my feet hovered in the air. Everything in my mind went still.
I looked at my hand. Like some freakish pincushion, lavender sprigs sprouted from every inch of the front and back of my hand, wrist, and forearm.
“Get it off!” I shrieked.
Vaya’la’s laughter filled my head. “Just let go.”
“I’m not holding anything!”
“With your mind. Let go.”
I screwed up my eyes and thought of a stone dropping into that pond. As the stone plunged in, ripples spread across the surface, touching every corner of my mind.
A rustle, then a cool breeze covered my hand. I opened one eye, then the other, and I breathed a sigh of relief. My hand was my own again. My skin was unharmed, though it was a little tender to the touch. At my feet lay a heap of lavender, far more than I’d ever cultivated.
“Ah, shit,” I said, gathering the lavender into a giant bushel. I’d have to figure out what to do with it all. This much lavender in full bloom would be conspicuous.
“Well done, Small One. Tomorrow, we try vines.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
THE DAYS passed. I kept to my dowsae in the privacy of my room.
I practiced growing vines and blossoms from my hands for Vaya’la—as insane as that sounded—when alone in the gardens.
Soon, she said, I’d be graduating to fruits.
For long hours each day, I painted shirts, skirts, and leggings for Teke, Callagh, and myself.
Wep never showed up demanding I return to training.
Ell never came by asking for walks or conversation.
I missed the activity, but I didn’t regret the time away from either of them.
Whenever I thought about either one, my blood boiled for all the wrong reasons.
I hadn’t gotten over Ell’s calloused sense of humor, and Wep…
I hadn’t gotten over him at all. Thinking about him threatened to send me back into that place of despair.
Everything with him was a mind fuck. He kissed me and touched me and said things I couldn’t burn out of my soul—not with all the magic I pulled from Vaya’la or Jaeda itself.
All the while, he knew I was betrothed to his brother.
What would Dane say, I wondered, if he knew how his two sons acted?
Callagh constantly encouraged me to let it go.
She attended training in my place, allowing me time to wander the gardens in semi-peace.
She didn’t seem to mind my aloofness, even if her lifelight dimmed to a dull blue—disappointment—each time I made my excuses to leave.
No one, except Vaya’la and the insides of my boots, knew the real reason I spent so much time hiding away.
That morning, though, she looked irritated when I parted ways with her to head outside.
The marjoram had gone to late blossom, thanks to my influence and Vaya’la’s latest lesson.
Each flower had a curiously blue lifelight that made the tiny pink blossoms look violet.
I didn’t pick any, though I did sit and practice reproducing single blossoms in the palm of my hand.
“Control is the most important lesson you will learn,” Vaya’la said by way of praise at my success.
The tart scent of orange hit my nose, and I looked up. There were no citrus trees here, so I expected to see Callagh with juice from the kitchens, or perhaps a belated lunch tray.
Instead, standing over me was a very irate Dane, distinctly sans juice, but not without a hefty scowl.
“So, this is how you spend your days, is it?”
I frowned and got to my feet, hoping he wouldn’t mention me being unshod. “I suppose so. What else is there for me to do?”
“Your duty would be nice.” He didn’t bother to check the edge to his voice.
“What duty is that?” I spat back. “I’m learning plenty about the Riht from Callagh and my lessons, I study these gardens every day, I’m making excellent progress with your language, I’ve continued my morning dowsae—”
“You never struck me as one to shirk your responsibilities. What of your training?”
“That’s on pause.” I didn’t miss a beat, but neither did he.
“Then un-pause it. What are you doing to learn more of your blessings?”
I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat. “I’m keeping myself open. Everyone tells me these things take time.”
The red light around Dane pulsed ominously and darkened. Fury. I’d pushed him too far. “It’s been weeks since you visited the Great Dragon again.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement, but he planted his feet and crossed his arms.
“It has.” Well over a month, in fact, but I wasn’t aware he knew, let alone was keeping track.
“What have you to show for it?”
I had a lot to show for it. I could produce vines, leaves, and flowers. I was making progress with fruits, and I could also influence things to grow.
“What does it matter to you? Any bierla I manifest is my own.”
Dane eyed me. He had a knack for making me feel minuscule with nothing but a look.
“There’s no point in keeping anything from me, Daughter.
I know what goes on in my own home. Get yourself back to training tomorrow, and if you’re going to skip, you need to be spending your time communing with the Great Dragon. ”
It was an effort to keep the shock off my face, and not one I succeeded at. “Is that something required of me as future dana?”
To Vaya’la, I added, “Does he know?”
“It is not yet time.”