“You aren’t using magic to make the branches do that?” She had to ask, just to be sure, even though she could detect nothing.
“Nei. I am just touching the tree and asking it to acknowledge me, to share its magic with me.” He took his hand from the trunk, and the branches sprang back into place. “Come. You try it. Put your hand on the tree like this.” He guided her hand to the tree and gently pressed her palm against the bark. “What do you feel?”
“Bark.”
He sighed. “Besides that.” He eyed her sternly. “You think you are funny.”
She gave him a small grin. “That was funny. Admit it.”
“I admit nothing. Be serious. Just for a moment,pacheeta, then you can poke fun at me some more.”
She smoothed the humor off her face and cleared her throat. “All right.” She stretched out her fingers and pressed her hand more firmly against the trunk of the tree. “I’m being serious, but I don’t feel anything but a tree.”
“Close your eyes. Concentrate. Think about where your hand meets the tree, about what you feel beneath your fingertips, beyond the bark. There’s energy, magic. It’s like a pulsating glow, a soft light. It’s warm and alive. Can’t you feel it?”
“No.” There was the sound of the river in her ears, the feel of tree bark beneath her hand, the cool breath of wind on her face. But she didn’t feel or see any pulsating magical life force emanating from the tree.
“You’re cluttering your mind with other thoughts, Ellysetta. You’re still too focused on the physical. Block out what you hear, what you feel through physical touch. Those things are unimportant.” His voice dropped to a low murmur, and he began speaking to her in Feyan, a chant of words she didn’t completely understand but found oddly calming all the same.
The sounds of the river faded away. The breath of the wind on her skin was only a faint, distant sensation, soothing, relaxing. She could no longer feel the bark of the tree beneath her hand. She was floating in a well of warm darkness that changed slowly to a landscape of glowing lights pulsing with a multitude of colors and intensities. She could make out the shapes of everything around her, but it was as if she were seeing them through different eyes. Rain stood before her, a shimmering rainbow of lights—red, white, lavender, green, blue, black—all dimmed as if he were wrapped in a dark veil.
Beside her, the fireoak stood tall and strong. It was no pulsatingglow. It was a brilliant light, blazing with vibrant shades of green and blue, marbled with veins of lavender, red, and black. It was beautiful, glorious.
“Do you see it?” Rain asked.
“Yes.” Her tongue felt thick, as if she were trying to speak while half asleep.
“Do you see where your hand touches the tree?”
“Yes.”
“Then call the light of the tree to your hand. Imagine it flowing into your fingers and up your arm. Ask the light to come to you, to share its magic with you.”
With her eyes still closed, she looked at the glowing life beneath her hand. She wanted to know what that brightness would feel like rushing through her own veins. She opened her senses and asked it to flood her with its beauty.
The light of the tree rushed towards her in a blinding flash, shooting up her arm. Startled, Ellie cried out and yanked her hand away from the trunk. Her eyes flew open. Rain leapt forward to snatch her to his chest and fling a protective barrier around them as fireoak branches snapped and rained down from above, blanketing the ground around Ellie and Rain.
When the shower of tree limbs ceased, Rain looked at the destruction at his feet and glanced up at the tree. Not a single branch remained. The once-lush fireoak was now a thick, denuded pole thrusting up from the ground.
“I think we need to teach you moderation,” he murmured.
“What happened?” Ellie looked at the tree in dismay. “Did I do that?”
“Nei, it wasn’t really you, Ellysetta. You weren’t weaving magic. You only asked the tree to respond to you. But you must have asked very, very strongly.” He shook his head.
“Can you fix it?” She couldn’t bear to leave the poor tree like this.
“Aiyah.”
As Ellie watched, Rain’s eyes began to glow with summoned power. He gestured with his hands, and silvery white threads of what Ellie now knew was Air wrapped around one of the branches and raised it high overhead. Bright green Earth threads knit the branch back in place. Rain continued, branch by branch, until the fireoak was once more whole and undamaged.
When he was done, Ellie thanked him and whispered a heartfelt apology to the tree, not daring to touch it again lest she feel it quivering like a frightened puppy.
“That was good,” Rain said.
“Good? I almost killed the poor tree!”
“But you did not. I want you to try weaving magic.”
