Page 54 of The Moorwitch

Like a circle of stones.

My mind snaps to the faerie gateway, and with a tumbling sensation in my stomach, I realizewhythe stones are erected in such a shape.

“Miss Pryor?”

With a sharp inhale, I pull my mind back to the present and meet Sylvie’s eyes.

“Right. Where were we? Channeling, yes. Watch closely.” I demonstrate by drawing on one of the blades of grass, held between my thumb and forefinger, and it withers quickly.

“Oh.” She stares at the blackened grass, eyes wide.

I release the magic into the wind knot I have woven on the pegboard. Sylvie claps with delight as the threads begin to glow and a little breeze swirls through the grass around us.

“I’ll teach you the most basic, but perhaps most critical, of skills today: how to draw from many sources at once. Instead of taking energy from a single blade of grass and killing it, you can draw atinybit from a thousand blades. They all live and regenerate that energy, and you get more than enough magic to complete your spell.”

She nods, looking relieved. “But how does that makemagic?”

“Well ...” I Weave a cat’s cradle to summon water, then, shutting my eyes, I relax my mind anddrawon the green energy around me. It fills me like a flash flood, and I must quickly close myself again before I’m swept away. Then I focus on redirecting the energy inside me, through my heart, releasing it into the thread stretched between my fingers. Thankfully, this time, the pain is only faint, but then I’m only working with a very small amount of magic.

When I open my eyes, a thin flow of water from the stream is swirling over and around my hands like a playful otter.

“It’s all about altering the flow of that energy,” I murmur. “The heart acts as a catalyst, changing energy into magic. All magic flows into and out of the heart, but it’s vital you do not hold it inside you too long. Always have a spellknot ready before you channel, because pulling in all that energy and giving it no place to go, or drawing more than you need, can result in terrible consequences. You can become a danger to yourself and those around you if you cannot control how much you channel.”

With a sigh, I release the knot, and the water pours into the grass. I shut my eyes and massage my chest, breathing in and out slowly. The ache is dull, but persistent, and every breath makes my heart twinge a little worse.

“Like this?” asks Sylvie, and I hear a loud rushing noise.

I open my eyes.

Around us both, a great funnel of water twists and rolls to the sky. Sylvie stands with her hands spread, her spellknot sloppy but clearly effective. I turn and see a fish flicker by in a state of complete bewilderment, caught up in the maelstrom. For a moment, I am too stunned to speak and can only stare at the river circling us and rising thirty feet in the air. If anyone looked this way, they’d see an impossible tower of twisting water.

“Oh,” I breathe, eyes wide. “Oh. Yes, something like that.”

“I don’t have to think about all that stuff,” she says. “Water and grass and energy. I just sort ofdoit.”

“Be careful. Summoning it all at once is one thing, releasing it is another.” I clamber to my feet, lifting a hand.

“It’s getting wobbly! Oh!”

The water crashes over us like a massive bucket has been upturned on our heads. I gasp, and Sylvie shrieks. Water runs over the hill and into the stream, leaving us both drenched.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. But her eyes are bright and her cheeks flushed with excitement, and I cannot help but smile.

I remember what it felt like, discovering my power for the first time. Realizing I was capable of so much more than the world had ever expected of me. It was stolen moments of magic like this that helped me survive my aunt’s stifling house. Magic will be Sylvie’s salvation too, her respite from her brother’s oppressive rule. If only she didn’t have to hide it. If only she could embrace the fullness of her power—she could be a force of nature.

“It’s all right.” I set to work on a drying spell. While I Weave it, I study Sylvie.

She’s strong for a girl her age, anuntrainedgirl her age. Exceptionally strong. Her technique is rough, but that’s only a matter of practice. I can’t think of a single girl I knew at school who could have controlled that much water at once so early in her training.

“I can’t believe you’ve gone this long without using your magic,” I mutter, more to myself than her. “Your brother should have got you a tutor years ago.”

“You mustn’t tell him about our lessons,” Sylvie says quickly. “He’d send you away.”

“Of course. You have my word.”

“Why are you teaching me?”

I pause, threads tangled between my hands, and consider her. “Well ... because you need to learn. Magic is your right. It’s as much a part of you as your voice or your thoughts.”