Page 44 of Bonds of Magic
“Feel every corner of your body,” she said, picking up as if there’d been no interruption. “Feel the tips of your fingers in the air. Feel the soles of your feet in your shoes. Feel yourself held by an energy that connects all things. Even inside of you. Feel that connection in the core of your being.”
I tried to do what she said, because what else was I going to do, stand here for an hour doing nothing? But even if I hadn’t known it was pointless, it still wouldn’t have been easy. How exactly do you feel the air on your fingertips in a room heated to seventy-two degrees? It wasn’t cold or hot enough to feel anything.
And as for an energy that held all things, that connected to the core of me, I’d never felt anything like that. It must have been different for witches, because all I felt was growing embarrassment, plus a little thirst. I’d eaten a lot of fries at dinner.
Rekha’s instructions were more involved than Professor Kazansky’s had been, but they still boiled down to the same thing. Empty your mind of distractions, concentrate on finding some connection inside of you to the net, the field, the fabric—the metaphor changed each time—of magic that surrounded you. I wondered what it would be like toactuallyfeel that.
“Feel the energy hum. Feel it grow. It wants to be used by you, wants to be shaped. Hold it in your hands and picture in your mind the ball of light you know it will be when you open your eyes. Feel your intention, feel the energy bend to your will. Feel that power, and say the word. Make it so.”
I held out my hands as instructed, trying to imagine a ball of light floating there.
“Light,” I whispered.
I opened my eyes. Nothing.
“Feel it,” Rekha instructed, her voice louder this time.
I sighed and closed my eyes, going through the motions and whispering ‘light’ again. But still, nothing. Not that I was surprised.
“Feel it, damnit!”
“I can’t feel anything,” I snapped back. “But I don’t think you yelling at me is going to help, do you? If you want me to empty my mind of emotions?”
“I wouldn’t have to yell if you would do what you’re supposed to. It’s not my fault you’re so incompetent.”
“Gee, thanks for the pep talk, coach.” I leaned back against a carved wooden column in between two bookcases. “I feel so much better now.”
“I don’t care how you feel. I care about success.”
“Mine, or yours?” I arched an eyebrow.
“Mine. Which is, quite unfairly, tied to yours at the moment.”
At least she was honest.
“Look, we’ve been trying for half an hour now,” I said, rubbing my forehead. I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, despite not having done anything more strenuous than thinking really hard. “Don’t you think it’s time to call it a night?”
“Ithinkthat you’re trying to slack off because you don’t know how to work hard.” Her eyes were flinty. “But I’m not having that. By now, everyone knows I’m tutoring you in basic magic.Your failure reflects on me, and you are not going to ruin my reputation.”
“I’m pretty sure my failure rests onme,actually, but thanks for the solidarity, I guess.”
She gave me a withering look. “We’re going to keep working until the top of the hour. Stand up straight and we’ll try it again from the beginning.”
“It’s not going to work.”
“Well obviously it won’t if you have that attitude.” She put her hands on her hips.
“It’s not an attitude, it’s a conclusion based on observable facts. Can we at least try a different method this time?”
“This is the only method I know,” she said, “and it worked fine for me. My grandfather started teaching me when I was seventeen and I picked it up in no time.”
“I’m not you. Or your grandfather.”
“No.You’rehopeless.” She frowned. “I don’t understand why you can’t feel it. The magic. It’s right here.” She gestured around the alcove. “And in there, inside of you.” She pointed at my chest.
“I can’t even feel air in my lungs like you’re telling me to,” I complained. “How do you expect me to feel something like magic?”
“I don’t know. You just do.”
