After everything that happened in the prison, I wasn’t sure it would.
“So yeah, I’m basically a noob.” I shrug. There’s no point being embarrassed. After all, it’s the Academy’s fault my magickal childhood was stripped from me in the first place.
“Bah.” Phaines waves a hand, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “You know a good deal more than some of our first-years from the most prominent magickal families, not naming names, of course.” He gives me a wink, then says, “Magick is the natural energy that flows through all things, living and inanimate, whether we see and feel those things or not. The Tarot is a physical, pictorial channel through which mages and witches can harness, repel, amplify, diminish, and alter that energy—to do magick, essentially. There are lots of legends depicting how the cards came to be, and how we came to use them, but you’ll learn about all of that in your classes.”
I nod, excitement bubbling in my stomach. Sitting here with the professor, feeling the magick of the cards… It’s becoming more real by the minute. This is it—I’m enrolling in the Academy. I’m going to study magick.
“Before we begin,” he says, “do you have any feelings or instincts about what your gifts might be? The witchfire would suggest a fire affinity, of course, but there may be more dominant gifts inside you.”
I consider the question. My knack for tea blending is likely connected to the earth element, as is the rock climbing. The fact that I can sense people’s emotions and intentions has qualities of both water and air. And after my experience with the magickal owl energy… Well, I’m not even sure where that fits. Air? Fire? Was it an earth spirit connected to El Búho Grande? Or something not of this earth at all?
Leaving out the owl bit for now, I tell Professor Phaines my thoughts on the rest.
“It sounds like you may have multiple gifts,” he says. “We do have some other students this year with two dominant affinities, and one with three, actually. The test will confirm yours, and then we’ll take it from there. Does that sound okay?”
I nod, and he gestures for me to pick up the Tarot deck.
“I will lead you through a meditation to connect with your inner guide or guides, which may appear to you in human or animal form. They will be emanations of the Tarot—typically the court cards, but sometimes another minor arcana will appear as well. Depending on which Tarot energies you see, that will give us a clue to your dominant elemental gifts.”
“So if I run into the King of Wands, I’m fire-blessed?”
“Precisely—the wands represent fire. Although the King aspect would be an indication that you’re quite advanced in your magickal practice, so it’s unlikely you’ll see him just yet.” Professor Phaines smiles kindly. “A more likely example would be the Eight of Pentacles. That would tell us that earth magick is your dominant gift, and would suggest that you’re a dedicated and conscientious worker. You see?”
I nod—it all makes sense. After the Tarot cards started appearing to me a few years ago, I researched everything I could about them. So I know about the elemental correspondences and the areas of life they rule over.
Wands correspond with fire, and rule things like passion, inspiration, creativity, and spirituality.
Pentacles, the earth suit, deals with the material realm—money and resources, career, home, physical health, sensual pleasures.
Emotions and relationships belong to the suit of cups, the water element.
And air, the element connected with swords, has to do with both conflict and mental energy. Thoughts, communication, words, ideas, things like that.
I share all of this with Professor Phaines, who beams at me like a proud gramps.
“I think you’re farther along on this path than you give yourself credit for, Miss Milan.” And then, with a gleam in his eye, he says, “Now, are you ready to reveal your gifts?”
Sixteen
STEVIE
The old professor’s voice is soothing and serene, guiding me into the meditation like the wise yogi grandpa I never knew I needed in my life. I follow the cadence of it until the scents and sounds of the office fade away, replaced with the pleasant touch of cool, humid air on my skin and a symphony of crickets.
I open my eyes and find myself standing on a rocky rise, a narrow dirt path winding downward toward an end I can’t yet see. It’s a moonless night, the stars glittering across an endless inky sky.
Huge boulders line the path on either side, blocking my view of the surrounding landscape. With no other clear options, I follow the path, the air cooling as I descend, my footfalls softly padding against the dirt. The rhythm of my steps lulls me so completely, I don’t see the lake until I’m practically walking into it.
I stop short, then look across the expanse of dark water. It’s as still as a mirror, reflecting the black sky and the blanket of bright stars. It’s surrounded by a lush forest, and just beyond the far horizon, a grove of seeing stones bloom from the earth like a copse of ancient stone trees.
I feel like I’m in a painting, and I’m not sure I want to leave.
But then the wind shifts, blowing my hair back and sending ripples across the lake.
The water sparkles, then smoothes out again, and from its dark depths, four women emerge—fierce and beautiful, awe-inspiring, like goddesses from another world. Despite the water, their hair and clothing are dry, fluttering in the breeze. Each woman holds something in her hand, and though I’m not close enough to identify the objects, I know instinctively that they’re magickal.
I watch in mute admiration as they approach. As if commanded by some invisible general, they stop at once, standing shoulder-to-shoulder at the edge of the lake.
Silently, they watch me. Assess.
