“Well, this beast needs to be contained,” Silas said flatly. “If we don’t do it, someone else will. It is a safety concern.”
“Okay.” I expelled a breath. “So now we just wait?”
“We wait.”
We waited for what felt like ages. When my bones started to feel creaky, Silas nudged me.
“There,” he whispered, barely audible. “The glimmer?”
“Got it.”
“Stand.” Silas’s voice was but a breath on my shoulder as he got me situated, his hands landing on my waist. “Open stance. Let your feet root into the ground, let your center of gravity sink through your hips; don’t hold it in your shoulders.”
I did as he said, relaxing, picturing the balls of my feet sinking into the soft mud beneath my sneakers. We were hunting with a bow and arrow this evening. Silas claimed it would be most effective at helping me access my magic.
“Nock the arrow.”
I did as he said, but apparently I didn’t do it quite right. He reached over and folded my fingers into a better grip.
“Cradle it, don’t strangle it. No torque. That’s it.” Silas expelled a breath. “Now draw.”
As I drew, I felt it. The adrenaline fizzing through my veins.Silas was right.This was a way to access my magic that didn’t exactly require a life-or-death situation, at least hopefully not for me. Then again if I missed, I was pretty sure the midnight-black creature prowling through the trees might think differently.
“Whenever you’re ready, you’re going to inhale, then let half the breath go,” Silas murmured. “Then release.”
I held steady for a long time. I understood that we needed to rid The Forest of this mystery beast, but I also was cognizant that there were other reasons I had agreed to hunt. Both to learnabout a Hunter’s style of magic, much like I’d learned about the gnomes and Millie, and also to see if it could activate my magic on command.
I was tired already, my muscles weary and my brain exhausted, for obvious reasons. This time, however, as I felt the trickle of magic ramping up, I could feel the difference, in that I was the attacker. I kept my eyes focused on the distance where a shadowy figure darted in and out between the trees.
“No clear shot,” I said. “Not yet.”
“Patience. In the meantime, you know what to do. Feel your magic, lean into it, close your eyes.”
“Do you feel your magic when you hunt?” My muscles were starting to ache holding steady, but I reveled in the zip of power through my very core.
“I do,” Silas said. “It’s part of who I am.”
“That could be addictive.”
“That’s often the problem,” he said, barely audible.
I focused on feeling the strings of magic winding through my body. It felt like my body held ley lines inside instead of actual veins, the way I could feel the power radiating from my shoulders down to my elbows, down to my fingers holding the bow and arrow steady—all the way to my toes, digging into the earth through my shoes.
As I focused on the way the magic ran through me, I was able to extrapolate it beyond my body. I could see it—visibly see it—streaking through The Forest floor. I felt my body connecting in tune with the earth—the ley lines of The Isle, and the veins in my body—working together as one unit. Tiny fissures of blue-white light that didn’t stop and start where my feet touched the earth, but carried on seamlessly.
I could feel myself, a small speck on this island, alight with power and magic, at one with the very island itself. The more I sunk into the feeling of being one with the land around me,the more I was able to sense the world around me. I was but a drop of water in an ocean of magic on The Isle. That was when I located the beast—not with my eyes, but with my senses.
“I’ve got him,” I whispered. “I can feel him.”
Inside, I trembled like a leaf. Outside, I was a stone. I didn’t want to shoot; I never wanted to hurt, to kill, no matter the cause. But I could feel it now, the magic guiding me. If my magic—the very Fae magic that protected this island—was guiding me to shoot, then surely it must be for the good of the island? My powers wouldn’t lead me astray.
Without another pause, I let out half a breath, locked in my focus on the creature. I caught a glint of gold as I let my fingers melt off the bow. The arrow zinged through the night. The creature fell silently.
“Bull’s-eye,” Silas said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Right to the heart.”
I relaxed my arms, feeling conflicted. There was pride and excitement and adrenaline. I’d done it—something I didn’t want to do, had no skills to do. But I followed Silas’s teaching and my magic, and I’d succeeded.
The only problem was that I’d succeeded at taking a life.
