Page 86 of Storm Caller

“I’ve tried,” Rook says. “I . . . could never . . .”

He stops talking and starts pacing. He’s muttering to himself, running a hand through his hair.

“Rook? Are you okay?” I ask.

“I would try sometimes,” he says. “But there was no one to talk to about it. It felt like I could do something, but I didn’t know how.”

He shakes his head and stares up at the sky.

“Would you like some tips?” General Sol asks, and Rook spins around.

“Very much.”

“Okay. Then let’s try this.” She stalks toward us and points to the earth. “Stand there and there. Let’s wait for a blast. When it hits you, concentrate on the sparks. Instead of letting them roll through you, think about gathering them. Almost like you’re picking up single motes of dust. Focus on bundling them together in your hands. It requires a high degree of concentration because you need to treat each one separately.

“At first, you won’t be fast enough. The majority of them will dissipate. That’s normal, but you’ll need to gather dozens to build up an effective strike, and you’ll get better with practice.”

She looks between us to ensure we understand.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll try.”

Rook nods as well, and then we wait.

“Call to it,” Sol whispers. “It answers to you.”

I focus my thoughts on the clouds above. Sol is right—this is something I’ve done before. But I always assumed it was simply about my desire to touch the storm. Not that it was actually listening.

It doesn’t take long.

Another cloud gathers overhead, shifting and pulsing in the sky.

I sense it a split second before it hits me. I brace myself for impact. For the sweep of pain and euphoria pulling me under. Spark strikes, crackling over my skin. For a second, I get lost in it. The agony of the moment tears through me, shredding me from the inside out.

Then I remember I’m supposed to be doing something.

So I concentrate on a single spark, willing it toward the center of my hand. It’s like snagging a dandelion seed between your fingernails. It takes a few tries before I can pinch it, almost like it’s trying to avoid capture.

I direct the Spark to my shaking palm, where it, by some miracle, catches, hovering in the air. I’m so startled that I lose the connection, and it blinks out.

I’m engulfed in the swell of the plasma arc a second later, more sparks dancing around me. I try again, pulling on a single point of light and directing it back to my hand. I can already sense how tricky it will be to gather a ball the size that General Sol just showed us. Still, I focus on the single spark, then a second. This one resists me before I concentrate harder and manage to direct it inward.

The two threads touch, then snap together, forming a brighter point of light before flashing with a magenta glow. A moment later, everything around me darkens. I’m left with only a few sparks dancing in my hair and on my clothing. I look up to find Rook and General Sol watching me.

“I think I did something,” I say. “It wasn’t much, but I did something.”

“You did,” Sol says, pride in her voice. “Seems like you’re a natural.”

“What about you?” I ask Rook, who shakes his head.

“Not a single one, but you were amazing.” He offers me a proud grin, and my heart squeezes in my chest.

“This was good for a first time,” the general says as she looks up at the sky. More clouds rumble in the distance as the storm churns closer to the city. “I should get back, but you two need to practice. Where do you go when you need to touch Spark?”

“I have a few places,” I say. “Mostly on the outskirts.”

She nods. “You’ll need to be careful. I probably can’t meet with you again for a while. I still need to figure out a way to get you to the top of the Citadel without exposing you, but I’m working on something.”

“Okay,” I say. Then we return to the truck, and Sol drives us back to the tunnel entrance before dropping us off. Rook steps back and slams the door. It seems like he wants to say something, but General Sol peels off toward the city before he can get a word out.