“I can gather the firewood,” I offer.
“Absolutely not,” he says sharply.
“Why not? It’s a simple task!”
“You don’t know these woods,” he starts to tick off the reasons on his fingers, “you could get lost, you could encounter a dangerous creature—and we both know how much of a penchant you have for that.” He throws a glare in my direction. “Therefore,Iwill be gathering the firewood. Can you make a small pit and then set out the bedrolls somewhere near enough to the fire? The temperature will drop even more overnight so we’ll need all the warmth we can get.”
“Sure,” I mumble, chafing from being properly scolded.
He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something further, but snaps it shut, a muscle feathering in his jaw before he stomps out of our little clearing and into the woods.
Guess that’s it for our short-lived camaraderie.
I collect some fist-sized rocks around the campsite to line the outside of the fire pit. I find a sturdy enough branch to scrape the inside of the circle to make a slight divot and remove the grass. It takes me a good few minutes and I’m sweating through my shirt by the time I’m finished despite the chill creeping in with the setting sun.
Wiping the perspiration from my brow, I grab the bundles Bastian pulled out of the pack—the bedrolls I’ve figured out. I place them both on one half of the fire, placing them as far apart as possible while still keeping them close enough to the fire to keep us warm.
I plop myself down on the grass by my bedroll with a huff as Bastian returns with an armful of branches and twigs to use as firewood. I don’t bother looking at him. I’m not mad at him exactly, because he was right. Completely and utterly right. Everything he said was the truth. And yet, it still stings. I’m like him now—Fae—and yet, I’mstilla liability.
He silently works at arranging the wood in the pit I’ve scraped out and I can feel the weight of his gaze as it seeks me out every few moments. With the tiniest twitch of his fingers, the twigs ignite and within seconds we have a roaring campfire.
He snatches the rations he laid out earlier and holds mine out for me. I take them without looking and begin to nibble on the small loaf of bread first.
I can hear a rustling coming from Bastian’s bedroll, but I pay it no mind. That is, until a radiating warmth tells me he’s suddenly much closer than before. I flick my eyes over to see he’s dragged his bedroll so it’s right beside mine.
“Once you’re finished eating, would you like to try out your magic?” he asks softly.
That perks me right up. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Might as well start trying now. I can’t promise I’ll be a good teacher, but it’s worth a shot,” he says as he pops a piece of dried meat into his mouth.
“Okay,” I say, tearing into my food at a much faster pace that draws a chuckle out of Bastian.
Once we’veboth finished eating, we sit cross-legged on our bedrolls, facing each other. The sounds of the forest carry on around us. The occasional owl hoot, rustling as something hunts along the brush.
I’m practically vibrating with the excitement of trying out my magic. Magic that I only learned I have less than twenty-four hours prior.
“Okay, first thing’s first is to clear your mind,” he begins.
I tilt my head. “Do you have to clear your mind every time you wield? Whenever I’ve seen you do it, it looks like it comes second nature.”
“For me, it does. For someone first starting to get the hang of things, it’s helpful to clear your mind of anything that could pull your focus away from what you’re trying to do.” He gives me a pointed look. “Once you get more comfortable with the feeling of summoning your abilities, it becomes easier to draw on it without a second thought.”
“Oh, right. Okay, that makes sense.” I blow out a deep breath and close my eyes, placing my hands on my knees. “Clear my mind.”
Clear my mind. Clear my mind. How am I supposed to even clear my mind?
“You look like you’re praying to the gods,” he snorts.
I crack one eye open. “Don’t shit on my methods.”
“I wouldnever,” he says with a hand over his heart in dramatic fashion. “Once you’ve cleared your mind, turn your focus inside you. Find that ebb and flow of magic through your veins.”
I do as he instructs and turn my attention internally. I feel around for that ‘ebb and flow’ but I can’t find anything. It just feels… hollow. Empty.
What if I really don’t have any magic? What if I can’t do this?
“I can’t find it,” I whisper, as if I’ll startle the elusive magic if I speak any louder.
