Page 23 of Brave Spirit (Bound Spirit #6)

Callie

M ildred walks with purpose over narrow trails that wind through the trees lining the back of our property.

Most would assume they were created by roaming deer, but the large canine prints left in the damp earth imply a collection of certain shifters are more likely the culprits.

Normally, I’d consider having them snooping around overboard, but since I can’t seem to shake this feeling of being watched, the overprotective wolves have become a comfort.

At least they announce their presence with loud, obnoxious howls.

I do my best to keep up with my nan while dodging various fronds and branches of wild overgrowth, impressed how Mildred can appear like her normal, collected and elegant self despite sneaky roots that I’m sure were specifically grown to trip poor innocent hikers.

Mischief also has no issues, easily following in his house cat form.

The trails seem to only have a vengeance for me, or it could be because I’m painfully distracted.

It’s a pleasant Sunday afternoon for a magic lesson, but the beauty of nature does little to soothe the anxiety-induced knot that was once my stomach.

Nolan texted me the ammunition I need to convince my nan to approve making Felix into a thrall, but I can’t see a way for this to be an easy conversation.

I doubt she’ll respond well to having her arm twisted by threat of the vampire queen via Dalia.

The two have come to somewhat of a truce over their shared disdain for Neva, and vicariously Gina, but I’m not sure how well it will last when human life is the price.

Finding a small, shady clearing, my nan puts her oversized bag down near the base of one of the surrounding Douglas firs.

She pulls out a picnic blanket, drops it onto the ground, and then pulls out a tube of tennis balls before sitting cross-legged on the blanket.

Even among the dense wilds of the outdoors, she looks the picture of class in her black, wide-legged pants and cream, sleeveless blouse.

After placing the tennis balls in front of her, she motions to the space opposite of where she sits.

“Take a seat. We’ve focused so much on your control and the challenges of magic, I thought today would be a good opportunity to focus on something fun—a new spell.

” Her full lips quirk into an amused smile.

“Not every part of your magic needs to be reserved for various crises.”

Any other day, I’d be thrilled to get to play with my magic, especially with my nan to guide me.

Part of me wants to put off the thrall conversation to a different day, but then the image of Felix pleading for help enters my mind, and I know this can’t wait.

Doing my best to force an excited smile onto my face, I sit down.

Mildred’s eyebrows furrow with concern, and she reaches out to gently clasp one of my hands. “Are you feeling alright, darling?”

Apparently, I need to work on my acting.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer brightly with a hopefully more convincing smile. “Ready to learn.” My gaze pans over the surrounding trees. “Is it such a good idea to teach me a new spell here? As you know, I have, uh, bad luck with trees, or maybe it’s better to say they have bad luck with me.”

She gives me a reassuring squeeze before resting her hands on her knees. “This spell shouldn’t result in any tree damage.” Amusement dances in her eyes. “And if the trees do fall to any mishaps, you already know how to regrow or repair them.”

“And give them a bunch of accidental plant buddies,” I mutter under my breath, still a little sensitive over how my magic supercharged the growth spell into something that parts of rainforests can’t compete with.

“Control takes time, my dear,” my nan comforts me, her tone filled with compassion and patience. She points to the tennis balls. “And this will help with that.”

I give myself a little shake, deciding I can have my magic lesson first and then convince her to let Nolan take a thrall, even though he technically doesn’t need one.

That will be particularly challenging since, outside of vampire controlled territories, thralls are extremely taboo.

“Okay, what are we doing with tennis balls?”

“It’s the first step toward the spell you’ve wanted to know since first discovering you were a witch.” Her smile widens to a full grin as she waits for me to guess.

It only takes a few seconds for me to realize what spell she means, and genuine excitement has me bouncing and clapping my hands. “ Fantasia! ”

My nan laughs, delight crinkling the corners of her brown eyes. “Not exactly what the spell is called, but yes, I’m going to teach you how to use magic to clean.” She tosses me one of the tennis balls. “First step is learning how to have full control over multiple spells being performed at once.”

“Or I’ll end up with a forever sweeping broom, and not in a cool way,” I state, recalling my nan’s first warnings about this spell while tossing the ball between my hands. “Since ball plus forest doesn’t equal cleaning, what are we doing here?”

“You’ll be commanding multiple tennis balls to move in different patterns.” She picks up one of the balls, stares at it intently, and then with calm authority, says, “Bounce.”

The ball hops out of her hand, hits the ground with a muffled thud, and then springs up in a perfect straight line.

Considering a blanket over dirt isn’t really an ideal surface, the ball only bounces maybe a foot in the air, but it continues to go up and down with the consistency of a metronome.

The movement, however, does gain Mischief’s attention from his snoozing location inside my nan’s bag.

His large head pops out over the edge and starts bobbing in perfect timing with the tennis ball.

Apparently, despite being a high fae who’s well over a thousand years old, he still has many cat-centric tendencies.

Ignoring the fae’s interest in her bouncing ball, my nan continues to explain today’s lessons.

“Actively controlling multiple spells at the same time, which is different from casting multiple spells on objects that are meant to remain spelled, takes focus that is difficult to master.” She swirls her finger to encompass our surroundings.

“This location should prevent any broken windows.”

“Ah.” I nod with a somewhat bemused smile. “That’s why we aren’t doing our lesson in the garage like normal.”

“One wild tennis ball could risk some damage to my alchemy equipment and workspace, yes, but that’s not something I’d fault you for.

This is difficult for any witch to master.

” She gives Mischief a hard look. “And I’m sure our fae friend will be more than willing to help retrieve any errant balls that escape into the forest.”

His yellow eyes rise from the bouncing ball to give her a glare of displeasure. It seems to imply that if he were to go after a stray ball, he certainly wouldn’t return it.

“A sworn protector for the high priestess would be exceptionally invested in her further expanding education,” she muses, ignoring the dirty glare. “Considering the more the high priestess knows, the more capable she will be of protecting herself.”

Mischief stares at my nan for a long beat, makes grumbling cat noises, and goes back to snoozing inside her bag that he barely fits in.

My nan smirks, clearly enjoying her teasing victory over the fae.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were flirting.

I mean, Mischief has flirted with Mildred, but I got the impression she was immune to his pursuits.

It makes me realize how much I still need to learn about the woman who fundamentally changed my life for the better.

I don’t even know what happened to my grandfather.

Is he still alive? And if so, does he know anything about me?

Disrupting my spiraling thoughts, my nan begins my lesson. “For now, we’re going to focus on two objects at the same time and work up from there.”

“Sure, yeah, I can do that.” I release a deep breath and hope I won’t make trees attempt to bounce along with the ball. “So I just focus and tell the ball what to do?”

“Your magic is very intuitive,” she states, grabbing another tennis ball for herself.

“What I want you to do is fully imagine the scene in your mind’s eye.

Feel the weight in your hand, and imagine it rolling off your fingers, hitting the ground, and bouncing back up in the air.

Don’t allow any other image to enter your mind. There are only the ball and your will.”

I scoff over the idea of my mind emptying enough for that kind of focus. “Easier said than done.”

Her lips twitch as she raises a single brow. “If it was easy, everyone would do it.”

I stare at the fluorescent green ball, taking in all its small fuzzy details. “Is this how you control how much magic you use? By keeping other thoughts from entering your head?”

“Yes, it’s part of it,” she answers, her British accent adding to her more academic tone.

“Through practice and focus, you’ll develop a relationship with your magic that will lead to an understanding of how much you need for any given task.

” Her voice softens, regret coloring her next words.

“A huge part of your relationship with your magic has been built around survival. It’s your natural inclination to draw massive amounts of magic into yourself very quickly, because you’ve needed it as a way to protect yourself and save your loved ones. ”