Page 12 of Ransomed to the World
Annora snatched it up and jammed the twig into the ground.
Her turn.
“Remember what we practiced,” Willa warned. “Spellcasting is a delicate balance of concentration and control. Feel the magic, but don’t let it take over. Focus on your intent. Like a painter with a paintbrush, not beating at it with a sledgehammer.”
Then, not waiting for an answer, Willa opened her hand to reveal a tiny flame dancing in her palm.
Annora reached for it. Instead of feeling the heat of the flames like she expected, magic bucked under her fingertips. When Willa closed her hand into a fist, Annora felt the magic snuff out. Willa demonstrated it twice more when Annora waved her off. “I think I got it.”
She opened out her hand in front of her and focused on creating a flame.
Instead of creating fire, black particles swirled in the air. She poked and prodded it carefully, not sure what to expect.
Though it might not look the same as Willa’s, it felt the same.
Even as she watched, the particles began to swirl and dance just like a flame.
Willa pursed her lips, but ultimately ended up shrugging. “Try it.”
This was their third session this week on how to create fire, and it was the closest Annora got to completing the task.
Not that Willa was doing any better.
Both of them were getting frustrated with the lack of progress.
Almost afraid to try it, Annora lifted her hand toward the marshmallow…and watched it turn a light golden brown.
Then it caught fire, the stick burning down like it was a fuse.
Willa gave her a commiserating look. “Maybe we’re looking at things the wrong way. We’re trying to teach you to cast like you’re a witch. If you wanted to brown the marshmallow, how would you do it?”
Loulou was already walking around the fire pit and slammed the next sacrifice down between them. The guys emerged from the shadows one by one, curious as they sat around the fire to observe the proceedings.
Annora glared at the marshmallow like it was her nemesis, then shrugged. “If I wanted to brown it, I would just stick it into the flame.”
“Show us.” Edgar leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his eyes full of the afterworld, as if ready to yank her to safety if needed.
Dark particles swirled around her at her call. Instead of focusing on controlling the magic, she concentrated on what she wanted done. Darkness swirled around the stick, and everyone leaned back as sparks snapped in the air. Instead of turning to ash and flaking to the ground, tiny cinders curled around the marshmallow, close enough to brown the edges before burning itself out.
Annora stared at the melting marshmallow, not sure she believed it. “It worked?”
“Let’s see.” Before anyone could object, Logan leaned over, plucked the marshmallow off the stick, and tossed it into his mouth.
He hissed and began to dance around. Annora jumped to her feet, panic sending her heart thumping against her ribs. She lunged for him just when he tipped his head back and waved his hand and mumbled around a mouthful of goo. “Hot.”
“Ass.” Mason didn’t even have to stand—he just reached over and smacked Logan on the back of the head.
“Ow!” Logan scowled at the troll, then danced out of the way when Mason rose to his feet.
But not fast enough.
Mason grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him toward the tent. “Time for bed.”
“But it’s early yet!” Logan tried to dig in his feet, but Mason didn’t even notice as he dragged him along.
“And no one wants to deal with your pranks.” The conversation became muted as the two of them disappeared inside the tent.
Then her attention was stolen by Camden when he came to a stop in front of her. Without saying a word, he held out his hand. She knew how much that cost him. His touch was toxic to most people. A casual brush of his fingertips could drop a person. Anything more could kill them.
