Hi, Tas. Do you remember our last beach day? When we found the sand dollar in two pieces? I wanted to tell you then that I felt like that half a shell, alone in the ocean, until I met you. And when I found you, I knew I’d found my other half, that we fit together as perfectly as those two shells. I didn’t say all that last summer because I thought we had all the time in the world. I love you, Tasmyn. Call me.

 

My extremely abnormal life fell into some sort of routine over the next few weeks. I got up in the mornings and put on a happy face to mollify my parents. I went to school and pretended to be normal so that Amber could relax. I tutored my freshmen and sophomores twice a week during my free period.

I found a rhythm of sorts with Rafe, as well. I worked hard to be kinder to him; it helped that he eased up on the more extreme public displays of affection. He held my hand now and then, and at lunch, he sat close enough to me that I could feel his body heat. But he respected what I needed, at least while we were in front of people at school.

Our relationship outside of school was still complicated. Rafe came over to my house on some weekend evenings, but it was never entirely comfortable. So more often than not we went out to the ice cream parlor or just walking downtown, or we hung out at his grandparents’ house. I was gradually learning to relax there, although I still thought wistfully of the cabin in the woods outside town, where Marly and Luke had always made me feel completely at home.

Marica and I continued to meet more frequently. It was faintly disturbing to me that I no longer felt that pang of fear when I turned into the Lake Rosu parking lot. It was beginning to feel familiar now.

I had been working on water and fire for more than three weeks when Marica announced that I was ready to tackle air.

Immediately I giggled. The idea of tackling air created such a ridiculous mental image that I just couldn’t help it. Marica, who didn’t often share my sense of humor, merely raised an eyebrow and regarded me with an expression of long-suffering patience.

“Sorry,” I said meekly, biting my lip.

She went on as though there had been no interruption. “You’ve learned to channel passion into fire, to seduce water... .and now you must dance with the air. Air takes a bit more discipline than water, but it won’t be won by sheer force of will, as fire is.” She paused for a moment and closed her eyes.

I looked around, waiting for something to happen. We were back in the clearing, after having spent all of our last sessions on the beach. Oddly no one else ever came to Lake Rosu while we were working there, even though we’d had some really pretty weather for this time of year...

I suddenly became aware of a breeze stirring my hair. It had been quite still up until now, and I glanced idly at the gently waving branches. The breeze swelled into a wind, and I caught my breath. Of course—it was Marica.

Her eyes were still closed; she remained motionless. But I knew that she was controlling the now-gusty wind swirling around us. She raised one hand and flicked her wrist slightly. Across the clearing, a small whirlwind formed and darted in and out of the trees.

And then just as suddenly as it had begun, the wind stopped. It was eerily still in the clearing, and Marica cocked her head at me challengingly.

“My turn?” I asked.

“Close your eyes. Feel the air. Listen to it. When you can hear the voice of the wind, speak to it. Tell it what you want it to do. Bank the passion you might use with fire, but be firmer than you were with water. Do it now.”

I tried to feel the air. The deeper my concentration, the more I thought I could imagine the tiny molecules all around me, and I pictured them bumping into each other and causing a breeze.

“No. Remember what I said. Listen to it. Stop trying to manipulate—that won’t work. Focus.”

I scowled and closed my eyes again. This time, I didn’t try to imagine anything; I simply stood very still and tried to hear whatever it was Marica thought I should hear.

For several seconds, everything was still. And then...I thought I heard just the merest sound. It wasn’t quite a voice, but it wasn’t not a voice either. I couldn’t make out words, but I focused on it and pushed out a thought toward that sound.

And then I could feel it: the smallest stirring of air around me. I carefully put more force into my direction, and it became a full-fledged wind. My blouse was blown against me, and I smelled the pines that surrounded us.

Suddenly that scent brought a memory to the forefront of my mind. I was back in the spot, our spot, Michael’s and mine, in that private, protected area between the evergreens and the citrus trees. The pain was all the worse because I wasn’t expecting it, and abruptly the wind began to shift. It was blowing more violently. Small bits of dirt stung my face as the air whistled in my ears. I knew it was my emotions controlling the wind now, and I didn’t care. There was such a relief in this outlet that I didn’t want to stop.

I let it all out, releasing the full brunt of my anguish. A gust hit me with enough force that I stumbled backward and leaned against a tree for support. Branches were creaking all around me, and--

“Tasmyn! Stop!” I opened my eyes. Marica stood in front of me, her dark hair whipping around her face, her eyes both anxious and annoyed. “Too much. Bank the emotions. Control it now.”

Gritting my teeth, I fought to stuff all the hurt back into that part of my mind where it usually hid. It wasn’t easy, but within a few minutes, the windstorm had tapered into a small, steady breeze.

I opened my eyes again and looking around the clearing. Branches and twigs littered the grassy area. I cast a quick, rueful glance at Marica.

“I guess I don’t know my own strength?” I ventured.

She shook her head. “Tasmyn, until you have total control over an element, you haven’t mastered it. Today you allowed your emotions to get the better of you. Do not make that mistake again. It can be a very dangerous proposition.”

I bit my lip and nodded. Marica was shaken. I could hear it in her voice.

“Should I try again?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. That’s enough for today. Practice when you can, but remember, do not let your feelings interfere. I’ll see you here on Monday.”

I turned toward the path and then glanced back over my shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”

Marica shook her head again. “I need a little time. There’s a good chance the King witches could gather here this weekend, and I want to clear the area of our work. You go ahead.”

I stumbled through the trees until I reached the bolder and the path. Behind me I could hear Marica’s voice as she chanted in Romanian. I wondered what she was saying.