fourteen
Ididn’thavelongbefore the second challenge presented itself. I had about twenty-four hours, to be exact.
I returned at dawn for my training with Seer Goddard, sure he had somehow caught wind of my first trial the day before. When I arrived, he was nowhere to be found. His absence in and of itself wasn’t alarming since there were many mornings when I got started by myself, and he joined later.
I took a seat in my now-familiar circle of stones and resumed my practice. This morning, I focused on the earth. Given there were three trials, it made sense that each trial would focus on a different element, and I was confident yesterday’s had been concentrated on earth.
Today, as I sent out my tendrils of magic, I was excited to note it was much easier for me to maneuver rock, stone, bits of gravel. I spent time exploring this new sensation of control with my power, how I connected more easily to the soil and the rocks around me.
I isolated large rocks—larger than any human could move on their own—and lifted them with no more effort than a breath.I knew it wasn’t just me; it wasn’t that I’d become incredibly powerful overnight.
It was that I’d cracked opened a small portion of the channel between myself and my ancestors, like I’d turned on a faucet to let my ancestors’ magic flow through me. Except instead of a high-pressure flood, at this point, it was nothing more than a mere trickle.
My ancestors had warned me that even after successful completion of all the trials, my access to their magic wouldn’t be immediate, and I was finding the flow of magic to be even slower than I’d hoped; though I took solace in the fact that they’d promised with dedicated practice, this would change over time.
I moved rocks smaller than grains of sand—silt, even—spiraling them through the air around my fingers. I dug my toes and fingers into the earth and felt the grounding vibrations as a new calm settled over my mind and body. Working with my magic was slowly beginning to feel like a gift and a privilege and a tool, instead of a frustrating drain.
Around lunchtime, I took a break and looked around for Seer Goddard, but he was nowhere to be found. This was slightly unusual; he normally made an appearance before the morning was over, even if it was just to observe. Today, his absence was felt, especially since I’d been brimming with excitement to show him my new skills.
I stood up and made my way toward the hut and knocked on the door, just in case. No answer. I didn’t get the sense he was ignoring me; I didn’t get the sense anyone was around for miles. Apparently, I was on my own for the day.
Standing and stretching was bliss for my muscles, so I took the opportunity to wander toward the edge of the cliff. I moved easily out onto the edge where Seer Goddard had stood on the first day. At that time, I’d felt nothing but fear for certaindeath. Today, I didn’t feel much of anything. I wasn’t afraid nor nervous, I justwas.
There were plenty of dangers on this island, but somehow a drop to my death didn’t feel like one of them today. I stood perfectly still, staring out at the expanse of ocean and sky, marveling at how the two blues met and melded into a sparkling curtain on the horizon.
What startled me was when I noticed the rock in midair. Not all that far out in front of me. As I studied the large boulder hovering above the cliff, I noticed it wasn’t just one—it was one ofmany.An ascending staircase that had most certainly never been there before. It had materialized out of thin air. Rugged flagstone stairs that looked like they belonged on the side of a cliff in Italy, not floating midair on an enchanted island.
I glanced behind me, but there was no one around. I couldn’t figure out who’d put those rocks there. All I knew was that one moment they hadn’t been there, and now there was a staircase leading upward into the clouds.
The second trial.It dawned on me as I felt a tug toward the first step. The last thing I wanted to do was ascend a staircase into the middle of the sky, but alas, I hadn’t wanted to fall deep underground either, and that’d been necessary.
I took one tentative step forward onto the first rock. I felt instantly wobbly. The grounding powers of the earth were no longer as stable. They weren’t flowing through me as easily now that I wasn’t on solid ground anymore. Apparently, the powers linked to the earth that I’d unlocked yesterday were tied to, well, actually being on the earth.
Yes, these rocks were technically stone and earth, but they were suspended in midair. I was no longer connected to the core of the earth, and the life force and vibrations that flowed through it. I felt a little unstable and wary, but I caught my balance,focused on grounding myself through the small stones, and took another step.
I climbed, each step taking me deeper into the pale blue sky. I climbed and climbed and climbed without looking back. By the time I paused long enough to glance over my shoulder, there was nobackto see. There was nobody behind me; there was nothing behind me, really, just stairs and sky. I couldn’t even see the details of The Isle, as it was just a spec in the distance.
Even the waters below me were obscured. Wispy puffs of clouds were the only floor beneath me, and I was under no illusions that they’d catch me if I fell. I was enveloped in nothing but sky, and I knew without a doubt this was the start of my trial involving air.
I let out a groan. Air was not my favorite so far. Not because I had any issues with it, of course, but because I had the least experience with it. It felt the least natural to me. It had been the hardest to grasp, and that click of understanding I’d felt yesterday with earth, that sensation of a faucet turning on and magic beginning to flow naturally, had not hit me yet for this element. When it came to air, it was like I was still trying to memorize formulas and scrounge up a passing grade.
But when I glanced up ahead, I finally saw what had evaded me for the last hour or so of climbing. A landing. Ground. A place to rest, since the individual stones were too small for anything but a footstep.
I continued climbing, more confident now in my footing, and ascended the rest of the way. It was sunny and bright up here, blue sky all around me, clouds beneath me. It was a toss-up as to whether I preferred hanging out in midair hoping not to fall to my death, versus being trapped beneath the earth in a dark and dirt-filled maze.
At the last step, I lifted my foot and found solid ground. Grass. Fluffy, soft moss beneath my feet. Tiny white flowers shimmeredlike little gems in the Irish moss. I could have almost cried with relief at the break from climbing.
My feet were still bare from my practice that morning, and I could feel the dampness of the earth beneath me. As I looked ahead, I noted I’d climbed up to an island in the sky. Flat land stretched around me, all of it leading upward toward a single peak in the middle: a mountain—not Mount Everest by any means, but something sizable, especially for someone like me who wasn’t an avid hiker by a long shot.
I ignored the soft growl of my stomach, the gnawing hunger, as I continued my path upward. The passage of time didn’t seem the same up here, and I didn’t have the movement of the sun to track it. I had to imagine it was almost dinnertime by now, seeing that I’d set out around lunch and it felt like hours had passed. But maybe that, too, was an illusion.
I continued to climb, the ascent steep on the grassy hill. At first, this portion of the hike was nothing more than a pleasant stroll. But as I climbed, I began breathing heavier as the air thinned even further.
It was when I started hearing voices that I grew more concerned. I wasn’t sure if it was the exceptionally high altitude, or my lack of food, or my exhaustion—or ifmaybe,there were actual voices whispering to me.
As I neared the halfway point of the mountain, the voices became clearer. At one point, a voice rang out so distinctly that it stopped me in my tracks.
“Simon?” I gaped at the realization that my ex-fiancé had found mehereof all places.
