Page 85 of Soul of a Witch

“Again,” Grandmother said. “Steady yourself.”

Again and again, I tried and failed. Sometimes the explosions were massive and fiery; others were barely more than sparks. I burnt several rose bushes to a crisp. I singed the grass around my feet until it was blackened.

We were at it for hours, and my excitement dissolved into frustration.

Then fury.

What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I control it? Why was it so goddamn hard?

“Your shoulders are too tense,” Grandmother said. “You must relax them. Flow through the motions.”

“I’m trying!” I snapped. My hands clenched into fists. Every breath was quick and shallow as anger filled me, and with it, came panic.

What if my father had been right? My magic was wild, and I wasn’t strong enough to command it. I was just weak…stupid…ignorant…

Flinging my hands forward with a yell, scorching bolts of flame flew from me like arrows, and the goblets exploded into sparkling shards of glass. My heart was hammering, my breath coming in quick shallow bursts. Flames surrounded me, licking my face as if I was standing in the middle of a bonfire. The fire grew hotter and more vicious with every second, my chest so tight I could barely breathe.

Suddenly, cold water splashed into my face. I sputtered, my fire instantly doused, my hair and clothes now soaked. Callum stood beside the nearby fountain, shaking water from his hand.

“Perhaps it’s time for a break,” he said, folding his arms.

I wiped the water from my face, biting my lip. The tips of my hair were singed, and my clothes were dirtied with soot. The surprise of being splashed with water had at least halted my panic attack, but anxiety was still tight and roiling in my chest.

My grandmother chuckled. “You are indeed a fire witch, with that temper. Anger is more productive than fear, but just as difficult to control. Your mind is your greatest weapon, Everly, but it can also be your greatest weakness.”

“And what the hell am I supposed to do about that?” A wave of exhaustion made me squeeze my eyes shut. I wanted to sit down somewhere quiet, before more angry words burst out of me. Perhaps it would be better to dunk my whole head into the fountain and simply never come up.

Grams was only trying to teach me. I was the one failing.

She was silent for a moment, and my shame grew until I wanted to cry.

At last, she said, “Callum, would you show her the meditation room? Learning to guard her mind and calm her thoughts is imperative if we’re going to make any progress.”

Callum led me into an area of the house I hadn’t explored before. The stone walls were covered with creeping vines, grass and flowers were growing through the ancient floor. The air was cool and smelled like dust. As if no one had been there for a long time.

We were both silent. My doubts were choking me. How could I possibly hope to fight against a being as powerful as the Deep One if I couldn’t remain calm enough to practice? I was trapped in an endless cycle of anger and fear: fear of my failures, then anger at my fear, then more fear of my own anger.

It was a whirlpool, sucking me down, drowning me. Too powerful to fight.

Ahead of us, down a short staircase, was a familiar sight: a doorway sealed with black rope, that dissipated slowly as we approached. The doors swung open, the ancient hinges creaking, and we entered a large open room. There were no windows, but elaborate tapestries and vines hung from the concave stone walls.

“Take off your shoes, and your jacket,” Callum said.

The smooth stone floor was cool under my bare feet. Stepping onto a large, richly colored carpet, I curled my toes in its plush surface and sighed.

Overhead was a massive mechanical model of the solar system. The planets were formed of brass, with shining copper arms moving them slowly through their rotations. A backdrop of stunningly painted constellations covered the ceiling.

“This is the meditation room,” Callum said, as I stared in astonishment. “While you are free to meditate anywhere in the house, this place was built for exactly that. The spell work within these walls is meant to promote peace, calm, and focus. Every day, before you begin your lessons, come here first.”

The effect was subtle, but I did feel calmer. My churning anxiety had faded, leaving me exhausted. My muscles ached, and my face stung as if I’d been sunburned.

“Why don’t you look at me?”

Startled, I finally did look at him. “Sorry! I mean…” I grit my teeth, but I was unable to come up with anything more than another lame apology. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I’m sorry I couldn’t finish the lesson today. I couldn’t do it.”

He frowned, tipping his head curiously to the side. “Youdiddo it. You broke the goblets. You summoned fire. As for your temper…” He chuckled as he folded his arms. “I like seeing you in a rage. It’s sexy. The way your power fills the air is divine. But offer an apology to your grandmother. She’ll understand your frustration. I’m sure every young witch went through something similar.”

Tears welled, and I immediately looked away again. In a blink, Callum was at my side, cupping my face, tipping my head up. “Sshh, you’re alright. Don’t look away. Everly.” I met his gaze, straining not to let a single tear fall. “Training will exhaust you. It will push you to your limits. There’s no shame in the work you did today.”

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