“See if you can isolate a rock,” Seer Goddard said. “Raise it into the air.”
“Isolate a rock?” Tentatively, I reached down and picked up a stone, holding it out in my palm.
“Very literal,” he said dryly. “I meant with your mind.”
“I think we need to go back to baby steps,” I said. “I can’t even feel the rocks, let alone isolate one with my mind.”
“Then try harder.”
I briefly flicked my eyes open, but at the sight of Seer Goddard’s frowning face, I quickly shut them again. I sat there for what felt like forever. Then, suddenly, I felt something smack into my shoulder.
“Ow!” I yelped. The sensation didn’t hurt terribly; it felt like someone had thrown a small rock at me. It had mostly caught me off guard.
“Did you feel that?” Seer Goddard asked.
“Uh, yes.” I rubbed my shoulder where the stone had made contact. “Please don’t throw rocks at me.”
“If you were concentrating, you would have sensed it coming and blocked it.”
“I think I need some more instruction,” I said. “How do youfeelrocks?”
“You can feel the water. We both know it amplifies your powers.”
“Yes, but that’s natural,” I said. “Why don’t we start with water since I have a connection to it?”
“A tripod with one leg will not stand,” Seer Goddard insisted. “You need all three elements to work if you’ll be the Triune Queen. We will work on what you’re weakest at—and apparently you are very weak when it comes to rocks.”
“Well, I can sit here and feel nothing forever, or maybe we could try coming at this from a different angle?”
Seer Goddard heaved a huge sigh. “You’ll need to send out feelers from your mind. Like serpents, slithering from you into the earth. Tendrils of magic that work for you, obey you, report back to you. That are truly an extension of you. Theyareyou.”
“Okay.”
“Let them seep into the ground. There is life everywhere. Rocks themselves are not living things, but they are part of a living world. Focus on that.”
I did as he said. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but that wasn’t new—nothing here made sense. But I had felt those tendrils of magic before, the power that had snaked out of me to heal the earth, protected me from the kraken, amplified in the water. I focused on the tendrils because I knew what those were.
As I sent out the tendrils, I could feel them sinking into the ground. I could feel the gravelly taste of the earth. I suddenly felt parched, as if my throat was so dry I couldn’t speak. The earth up here was dry, desperately dry.
When I was confident I could gently control several of my tendrils of power, I focused on isolating a midsize stone. I wrapped my magic around it and lifted. It felt heavy—physically heavy, even though I hadn’t moved my body an inch.
When I opened my eyes, I heard Seer Goddard’s throat clear in approval, and I saw the rock floating in midair in front of me.
“I did it!” I shrieked.
I had levitated a rock. Seer Goddard quickly ducked as the rock sailed toward him like a missile. In my excitement, I’d lost control.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“I see we’re making progress,” he said. “Dangerous progress.”
“I’ll work on my control.”
“Obviously.” Seer Goddard paused. “Now do it again, this time tryingnotto impale me with a sharp instrument.”
I closed my eyes, but I felt antsy. The stones were digging into my butt. The dry dustiness was an annoyance, like cottonmouth. I didn’t feel attached to the rock at all. Instead, I felt tugged in a different direction.
I opened my eyes. “I’m sorry. I think something’s wrong. I can’t get my concentration back.”
