Page 25 of Strength of Desire

In the end, I pulled three pieces from the basket. The first was a light greenish-blue crystal with swirls of white. It shimmered gently and made me feel calm just looking at it. The second was a solid hunk of stone that was silvery, shiny, and felt good in my hand. The third was a crystal that managed to be black, but filled with a kaleidoscope of colors at the same time. It reminded me of the night sky—or the starry sea that I saw when I dreamt.

I handed the basket back to Professor Jefferson, who inspected my selections.

“Interesting,” she said. “Aquamarine, hematite, and black opal. Very interesting.”

“Really? Why?”

She set the basket back on the floor. “Every student’s choices are different. But generally, we feel called to the stones and ores that give us something we need.”

“I don’t even know what these ones are,” I protested. “I just picked the ones I thought looked the nicest. What are they supposed to mean?”

“Interpretations vary, but I see aquamarine as a stone for calm, hope, and courage. I find hematite to have a very grounding presence, making it helpful for those seeking security. And black opal possesses protective and purifying properties. A very rare stone, and an interesting combination.”

I felt a little exposed as her eyes studied me. Was that why I’d chosen those stones? Was that what I was looking for? Either way, she didn’t give me much time to ponder it.

“Now,” she said, “which wrist do you want your vocator on?”

“My left, I guess? I’m right-handed.”

“Alright. In that case, come stand here, and hold your hands out.”

She pulled me forward and turned me so my left hand extended towards the fire, and my right hovered over the three stones I’d set on the table.

“Good,” she said, when she had my hands positioned just where she wanted them. “Now we can begin.”

From a small pouch on her belt, she pulled out a pinch of pink powder and tossed it into the flames.

“Activate.”

The flames rose higher, six feet in the air, before sinking back down to three feet tall.

“Put your hand in the fire,” she told me.

I blinked. “Are you sure it’s—”

“Now, child. Once the spell is begun, it must be completed in a certain amount of time. The flames won’t hurt you.”

Warily, I extended my fingertips, and I felt the moment I brushed the flames. Professor Jefferson was right. It didn’t hurt, but it didtickle. The flames licked up and down my fingers as I stuck the rest of my hand in.

“Good,” she said again. She was brisker than before, all business now that the spell had started. She pulled a different pouch from her belt, undoing the ties and holding it out to me. “Now, dip the index finger, middle finger, and ring finger of your right hand into this and touch the powder inside. Don’t pick it up, mind. Just touch it with the tip of each finger.”

Cautiously, I introduced my index finger into the pouch. I expected the powder to feel like sand, but the pieces felt different somehow. Triangular. And they clung to my skin like iron filings to a magnet. When I pulled my finger out, a cap of gold dust clung to it.

“The other two, now. Quickly.”

I repeated the process with my other two fingers, then extended my hand towards the table again.

She put the pouch away, then waved her hand above mine and said, “Accept.”

My fingertips began to tingle, and the gold dust on them began to glow.

“Now bring your hand to the table and touch each of the three rocks in turn with a different finger. Then pull back”

I did so, and the tingling in my fingers increased, spreading up my hand as the glow enveloped more of my hand too.

“Alright,” Jefferson said. “This part might hurt a bit, but only for a moment.”

Before I could ask what ‘a bit’ was, she waved her hands in front of me in a complicated pattern that I couldn’t follow.

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