Nodding, I gesture for her to get to her feet, then move closer to her, careful not to overwhelm her. As much as I want to pull her close, I can’t blame her for being a little skittish. The last couple of times she saw me, I was acting like a raving lunatic, looking right past her like she didn’t even exist.
“What do I do now?” she asks, holding her hands out over the dirt, as if it’s ready to jump at her command.
“Earth magick is one of the easiest to tap into. The key is staying grounded.” Standing behind her, I guide her feet apart, positioning them about shoulder-width. “You can do this while you’re sitting too, but that’s usually during a ritual or meditation. A lot of times you’ll want to call on earth magick in the moment—say, during a fight or skirmish, or some other on-the-fly situation. That’s why I like to teach it standing up.”
“Makes sense,” she says. “But how is this different from Kirin’s air magick? He can move rocks too.”
“Air magick is less predictable in this kind of situation because you’re relying on the currents of air to act upon the rocks. You don’t have as much control. But with earth magick…” I lift her hands a little higher and send out a pulse of magick, and the dirt rises with it, hovering before us in a delicate dance. “See? You’re calling on the objects themselves. We’re communicating with the rocks, our energy interacting with theirs. It’s a direct bond between our bodies and the earth, and in return, we get a direct response.”
“I can feel it!” Stevie lets out a breathless laugh, the dirt still suspended before us. “Their energy is moving through my hands!”
“Exactly. Now just tell them where you want them to go.”
“Tell them? Just like that? Like, hey rocks! Go left!”
“Words, intent, visualization… There are as many ways to direct the energy as there are witches and mages. You have to find the method that works best for you. But so far, it looks like you’ve got their attention.”
The earth shifts to the left, just like she asked it too.
With another laugh, she says, “Okay, let’s move right.”
On command, the rocks and dirt move to the right.
Stevie looks at me over her shoulder again, her face full of wonder, her smile endless. I don’t have my camera, but I take a picture with my mind, memorizing the light in her eyes, the pure joy.
“This is amazing! Look!” She swirls her hands in a delicate arc, sending the debris into a similar pattern. “I feel like a magnet. Or… I don’t know. Like I’m connected to it all.”
“You are. It’s magick. It’s energy. All of it.”
She plays with it a bit longer, trying new patterns and heights, even picking up a little more dirt from the ground, shaping it into a series of flowing waves before finally settling her hands again, letting it hover mid-air.
Taking a chance, I press a delicate kiss to the side of her neck, breathing in her sweet smell.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
“I know. I missed you too.”
She relaxes back into me and sighs, and I circle my arms around her waist, burying my face in her hair. All around us, the crickets sing their delicate lullabies, and a warm breeze ghosts across the yard, carrying with it the subtle scents of the desert.
Years of living in Arizona, in the magickal spaces between worlds, and I’m still not totally used to the climate here. Arizona winters are so different from the crisp, stark air on the east coast, the harsh Decembers that so often made me feel trapped and abandoned.
Inhaling deeply, I hold those warm sensations inside me, mingling with Stevie’s honeysuckle-and-heaven scent, and for a full minute, I just live in it. The moment. The air. The magick. The love.Herlove.
It’s so perfect. So safe. And here, in the space between before and after, the words finally find a way out.
“I was fourteen the first time it happened,” I whisper.
Stevie gasps, the rocks and dirt dropping instantly to the ground. Her body stiffens in my arms. She knows I’m not talking about magick.
She tries to turn around to face me, but I tighten my grip.
“Don’t,” I whisper into her hair, lips brushing the silky strands. “Please, Stevie. I need to get this out and I can’t… I can’t look at you. Not yet.”
She seems to understand this, and I feel her relax into my arms once again, despite the banging of her heart behind her ribs. She presses my hands against her belly, giving them a tight squeeze and silently encouraging me to continue.
I don’t speak again right away. I’m not even sure where to start. But she doesn’t push me. Doesn’t prod. She just… exists. Just loves.
After an eternity, I take another deep breath. And then I begin in earnest.
