Page 16 of The Cursed Fae

That didn't happen.

I used air magic to ruffle Laz's hair, but when he asked me to make a small sand tornado in one bowl, that didn't happen either.

“Gaia, I suck,” I groaned.

“You don't. I promise. And now that we're done, I can tell you the truth. This test isn't as easy as it seems. The point is to determine your type of elemental magic.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, annoyed. “And? What kind of fae am I?”

“You don't know?”

I narrowed my eyes.

Laz chuckled. “Okay. Water, like the rest of your family. Surprised?”

“Mom always said I was a water fae,” I admitted. “I'm not convinced, though. I mean, I can use all the elements. Some better than others.”

Laz nodded. “That's pretty typical. It's more about where you draw the power from. That's what they designed the test to determine. You draw yours from water sources. Even when you're trying to produce fire, you take the power for the magic from water.”

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“The magic feels different. Don't worry, that's something you'll pick up on the longer you're here,” he promised.

I blew out a breath. “Okay, now what?”

He flashed a grin. “Time to learn some spells.”

We started small, with simple summoning spells. Laz pointed to objects around the room—candlesticks, books, pillows, blankets—and had me call them forth. When I proved I wasn't entirely inept, Laz moved on to something more complicated.

“The paper airplane in your bag,” he said.

“Wait, what?”

“Someone threw a paper airplane at you in Tartan's class. I saw you put it in your backpack. Summon it.” He stood across from me with his hands on his hips, expression expectant. “You've got it. Concentrate.”

Easier said than done.

My first attempt to summon the note resulted in the backpack twitching.

“You need more power behind the spell. Let the magic build before casting,” Laz advised.

I blew out a long breath and tried again. The backpack flipped over.

“Can you find the center of your power?” Laz asked as I let out a frustrated grunt.

“What does that even mean?” I snapped.

Sweat beaded on my forehead and under my arms.

Laz crossed the room in three long strides and placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Take a breath. You have a lot of power, Winter.” Laz's gray eyes focused on my green ones. “I'm not saying that because of the family you come from. It's obvious how powerful you are, it's palpable. You need to harness that power before you can use it.” His touch feather-light, Laz placed his fingertips on my stomach, right over my belly button. “This is where your magic lives. This is where you will first connect with it. Call your magic.”

My head spun. Maybe it was the scent of fae weed, or all the magic use. Or maybe it was Laz's touch that made me feel light-headed.

“Call your magic, Winter,” Laz murmured, his hand pressing harder against my stomach.

I took a shaky breath and closed my eyes. Calling the magic was new. Before, I thought about wanting a pencil across the room, and it zoomed into my hand. This time, I concentrated not on what I wanted to happen, but on the magic itself.

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