Page 83 of The City Of Fractured Memory

“Breathe,” Amari instructs. “Let the pulse of the world align with yours. Don’t force the connection. Invite it.”

My aunt has been a reassuring presence by my side these last few days, her patience never wavering. In such a short time, I already feel a kinship with both her and Osiris, the pair of them answering every single one of my million questions without hesitation, comforting me when I don’t like the answers.

I copy her, lowering myself to my knees, the right one clicking painfully as I imitate Amari’s gesture, pressing my hands to the cool earth. At first, nothing happens. But instead of letting my annoyance consume me like I’ve been doing through the last few days of near constant practice, I take a deep breath and relax, zoning in on the feeling of the grit of the earth between my fingers. Then, a faint whisper, a slight tingle under my skin. The tingle grows to a rumble, like distant thunder. The air thickens, smelling of petrichor.

My heart lurches, but as soon as my pulse spikes, the connection falters and the whisper fades.

I exhale sharply in frustration. “It’s like trying to hold water in my hands. It just…slips away.”

Stryx takes a sip of her tea, then tilts her head.

“You’re thinking too loud,” she says with a smirk. “You’re trying to control it like mortal magic. That’s not how ours works.”

“Then how does it work?” I snap. My panic threatens to surface again. After the elder warned me of the consequences of harnessing the Veyne, I’ve been a nervous wreck. Trying to access this magic that should supposedly be innate within me, whilst simultaneously trying not to accidentally channel the Veyne, is proving a monumentally difficult task.

Stryx gives me a pointed look like she knows exactly what I’m thinking, and lays down her tea, getting up to walk behind me and placing her palms gently over my shoulders.

“Stop reaching inward,” she murmurs. “That’s how your threads are getting crossed. You’ve spent your whole life trying to grasp something unnatural. But the Echofae don’t grasp at their magic. We listen. The earth already knows your name—it’s been whispering it since the day you were born. You just have to listen back.”

I close my eyes, forcing myself to still the storm inside my head as my fingers flex in the soft grass. I breathe slowly and I start to feel a slight hum within the earth. Slowly, my heartbeat syncs with the rhythm of the world beneath my fingers, and I feel the soil tremble, the pulse of the ancient magic thrumming up through my arms, my chest, my throat…

It answers.

A soft glow radiates from my fingertips, flowing up my hands in threads of pale blue light. The vines around us shimmer brighter, the lake’s surface rippling with energy that seems to breathe in time with me.

Amari’s eyes widen slightly, awe breaking through her usual composure. “You’ve done it,” she whispers. “You’ve made the connection.”

My voice trembles. “It’s beautiful.”

Stryx grins. “Told you. You just had to stop thinking like a mortal. You won’t have to touch the Veyne again.”

Amari’s gaze snaps to mine, her smile fading. “You still channel the Veyne?”

Osiris drops his teacup, his wide-eyed gaze darting between us.

My eyes narrow, my magic cutting off abruptly. “What do you mean still?”

Stryx gasps. “You? You taught her this evil?”

“You accuse me of things you do not understand, Princess,” Amari says slowly, walking past us back to the cabin, my lesson apparently over.

Stryx gives me an uneasy look which I return.

“This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well,” Osiris says, and Stryx lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t you have to be stupid somewhere else?”

He shrugs, checking an imaginary timepiece. “Nah. Not until seven.”

Stryx and I spend the afternoon continuing to practice until I have managed to channel enough from the ground that my magic feels like it’s practically overflowing.

Amari doesn’t come back.

But right now, I don’t care. I feel like I’m ready to take on the world. This magic has no consequences, no burden, and whilst my pain may not be curable, I can at least lessen it by charging my black market trinkets myself. I no longer have to rely on Stryx to do it for me. Tears prick at my eyes at the thought. For the first time, I truly feel powerful, in control. It feels amazing.

I still have a long way to go, though, that much is clear. I may have learned how to channel my magic, but I’m still no wiser as to how to use it. Stryx tells me it’s mostly instinctive, which is mostly unhelpful.

By the time the light fades from my hands, the forest around us has quieted to a serene hum, the pulse of the earth now softer. Even the waterfall sounds less calamitous. I feel it still within me, that delicate thread of connection I’ve finally learned to hold. It feels like breathing for the first time after years underwater.