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“That’s it?” Gideon asks, like he doesn’t believe me.
“Yep, that’s it.”
They all stare at me. We’re in Fielder’s room after classes but before dinner. They can’t seem to grasp that I’ve been able to do all four types of elemental magic. I extinguish the flames and then lean back on the couch, tucking my feet up under me. “Can I not do that anymore, please? Not tonight? It’s more exhausting than when I use illusions.”
Hardin crawls up behind me, putting his legs on either side of me as he settles on the arm of the couch. His fingers brush my hair to the side and then begin to gently knead the muscles in my shoulders.
He’s the only one who isn’t treating me like a puzzle that needs to be solved, and I sort of love him for it.
Wait? What? No, not that. Holy penguins. Not that. Not love.
Ilikehim greatly for that.
Iappreciatehim for that.
My chin drops forward and I let out a little moan when he gets to a particularly tight spot on the bend that connects my shoulder to my neck.
“We need to test this out, Ro,” Ezra says, wrapping his hand around one of my ankles and tugging it over to his lap.
A groan escapes me as I nod. “I understand that. I do really. It’s important. I just feel really heavy now. Why can’t one of you try it?” They all look at me like I’m crazy. “What? It’s not an insane idea. You’ve never tried something like this before because you were told it wouldn’t work. Why not try it now?”
When not one of them moves, I tsk and reach out to Fielder, who’s sitting on the coffee table in front of me, tugging his hand over to me. Holding his wrist, I carefully sketch the rune for fire onto his skin. I feel all of their eyes on me while I work and then I drop his hand and motion for him to try.
His brows draw low as he looks at his hand, like he’s confused about what he’s supposed to do.
Ezra shifts. Hardin stops massaging my shoulders and rests his chin on the top of my head. Gideon lets out a frustrated sound after a while. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to make fire,” Fielder says, through clenched teeth.
“Try snapping your fingers, like Ro does.” Ezra suggests.
“Hardin doesn’t have to snap his fingers.” The implication is clear. If Hardin doesn’t have to do something in order to get this to work, then Fielder will not do it either.
I tsk again. “Fire isn’t your natural element, Fielder. Think of the snap as the spark that lights the fire.”
We all wait and watch, and Fielder doesn’t do anything. Just sits there, his jaw tight, ignoring all of our suggestions. “Oh my god,” I blurt. “You aren’t even trying, because you’re afraid of failing.”
His green eyes flick up to me. “That’s not true.”
I cross my arms over my chest and nod emphatically. “Yes, it is. If you were actually trying, you’d have snapped your fingers by now.”
“Sweeney,” he growls.
“Harris,” I growl back. “Just snap your fucking fingers. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work and you’ll try again. Or maybe then we’ll know that I’m some kind of freak, and we’ll become the mystery machine gang because we’ll have another mystery to solve. But just sitting there staring at your hand is doing absolutely nothing.” I sigh and lean forward, cupping his hand in mine. “No one here is going to judge you if you aren’t able to do this.”
“Speak for yourself, love.”
I glare at him over his shoulder, pick up my sharpie and draw the sign for earth on his wrist. Then I give one to Ezra for water and Gideon gets the one for air. “There.” I cap the pen. “Now you can all try. Hurry up because I’m hungry.”
Hardin perches his chin on my head. “What am I supposed to do for earth, love?”
I lift a shoulder and motion at a plant near the fireplace. “Make that grow or, I don’t know, move the soil.”
The sound of snapping brings my attention to Fielder, who’s now frowning at his hand, even more than he had been. Not because he’s failed. But because he’s succeeded. Soft flames dance over his skin. Nowhere near as bright or vivid as Hardin’s, but he’s done it.
A second later, a wisp of air lifts my hair off my shoulders, swirls around me. I grin over at Gideon. He grins back at me.
“This is fucking amazing,” Ezra mutters, his hands sweeping through the air, making the water from the glass on the coffee table dance through the air.
