Page 34 of Terragnata and the Heir of the Earth

Jana squeezed my hand, and I met her gaze. “Is this what you are telling yourself?”

I shrugged.

“Terra, you werebornto do this. You can—and you will. But you need to relax and calm yourself. Consider it a dance between letting instinct take over and remaining active in the process.Feelyour power andbelieveyou can control it. If you doubt yourself, you will lose every time.”

I closed my eyes, blowing out an intentional breath. “I can do this,” I whispered. “I know what to do.”

I cleared the fauna from the ground and again sank my fingertips into the dirt. When I let my power flow into the Earth, this time, it was with an exhale. I did not control, but firmly guided it.

A single sprout grew about six inches off the ground. I felt the desire for it to continue blooming, but my magic remained there, hovering all around it, calm but not quite retreating.

“Hold,” Jana commanded.

And I did, the little green sprout bending in the wind.

“One more,” Jana instructed again.

One more sprout grew in its place.

“Hold.” It held.

“Again.”

I repeated the process under her instruction—at least fifty more times—until a small patch of soft-sprouted grass rustled there.

“Excellent. Now, I want you to do the same again but with more power. Bloom the entire field, butonlythe field.”

I grinned, ready to do what I couldfeelI was born to do.

Wild flowers sprang up around us; daisies, prairie smoke, and columbine, budding in the between and spiraling around our bodies, formed intricate structures that spread like fire across the clearing. The rest of the Earth responded to them, shifting, allowing the growth to shape them too. The forest moved in harmony, a synchronized dance. I felt the sway and the breath of it as my creation took hold of that meadow—and only the meadow. Despite the slight sensation of unpleasantness from Jana’s magic, the unfolding beauty mesmerized me with a symphony of red and yellow and fuchsia hues, and the music it played seemed to sing only to me.

Eventually, the flowers became so enlightened they flew from their stems, forming a circular ring that landed on the top of my head.Crown, crown for a queen, I heard whispered amongstthem. At some point, Jana asserted her hold and pulled my power back. But when she did, the meadow remained as it had been a moment before. In all my wonder, I did not see the tears that had crept down her face.

She beamed, her eyes shining. “It has been said that what we create may save us. What you create, Earth Daughter, will deliver us.”

Jana bid meto show her a few more single callings, at first still linked, and then without her power ahold of me. In the end, she was satisfied with my progress. We portaled back to camp, and she sent me to the woods to continue exploring. Now that I had a sense of control, it came more naturally. The rest of the afternoon, I let the others prepare for the journey and wandered through the forest to continue my familiarization.

My walk through the woods was slow and indulgent. I let every touch of my fingers on a branch or a mossy covering leave a trace of me. At first, I was a botanist—reveling in the ability to incite bloom, to see small leaves sprout before my eyes. I studied each movement, eager for the reaction to one small brush of my finger. Dane had told me if he called for an apple, then a tree would grow one less fruit in its season. But for me, it felt the opposite. Somehow, I knew if I called for an apple, the tree would grow one more. I gave life to the Earth, and it gave it to me, as two conduits. Which came first, I could not tell.

I had also been told the more magic Witches used, the more it drained them. According to Dane, that was why some would conserve it before battle. His logic made sense and explained why it poured out of me with no control upon my first calling. But each time I flexed my power, I felt more awake, moreenergized. Like an atrophied muscle gaining strength within me. Maybe it was because Earth magic, in its essence, is pure life, the blood that pumps through everything around us.

I came upon a small clearing surrounded by sequoias that were fifty times my height. The sunlight had dimmed to an afternoon hue, revealing the lateness of the day. They were ancient trees. I knew this not just by their height or the thickness of their trunks, but because their roots extended throughout the clearing in an intricate, entangled way, woven together over centuries of growth.

I approached one of them, its vast size casting a long shadow over me. I ran my fingers down its bark, resting my forehead on the trunk and letting my nostrils fill with the sappy fragrance. And then I heard—or maybe felt—the vibration of a language old and strange, yet new and familiar.

Terragnata,it rumbled.

We see you, Queen of Earth, Daughter of the Mother. You honor us, creating, creating, creating. Life trails in your wake. Let us honor you.

I started at the words, spoken aloud and yet not, but I stayed still for fear the slightest movement would send the voice away. And as I remained there, an image floated into my mind.

A gift from the Earth.

I shook my head, heat pricking my eyes, not wanting to accept what the trees offered. How could they sacrifice themselves for me? Why?

We have lived a great many years in this life, and the previous, and the previous to that. We do not die, but our form rebirths. Do not cry for our sake, child. Receiving honors the giver.

I nodded.Indeed.

---