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Marcellus crossed his arms, face slackening with exasperation. “Use your brain, Princess. That is half of this exercise.”

Thicket chewed on her lip as she scoured the room. It was so dirty she didn’t even know where to begin. The floor and walls were coated with so much dust she was sure her lungs would suffer from it later. Dead bug shells, cobwebs, and chunks of random twigs and stones were scattered across the scuffed floorboards. And the sheets would definitely need to be washed…

She chased away the stream of chaotic thoughts with a shake of her head. While Thicket may have become more familiar with using magic, she hadn’t lived the majority of her life with it. Her method of thinking was too slow and simplistic. When faced with someone as skilled as Lavender, she would be nothing more than a pile of ash before she could even manage to say her first incantation.

She needed to rewire her brain and get used to relying on magic. But that didn’t mean her current memories and experiences were useless. The Dream World wasn’t real, but it had still originated from this world, meaning there would always be some sort of overlap.

If she were cleaning this room without magic, what would be the first thing she tackled?

Thicket paced, disturbing the ancient floorboards. Dust bunnies wafted around her, clumping to the bottom of her boots. She kicked them away then paused. Sweeping would allow her to get rid of all the loose particles so she could begin washing away the layers of dirt clinging to every surface.

Which of the spells she currently knew could gather the debris? Her mind landed on one. Thicket set her jaw and said, “Vynt.”

A gust of wind tore through the room. Marcellus covered his face with his arms. Thicket realized why too late. The particles flew about the room like confetti, scratching her face and skin. A fleck of dirt hit her eye and the spell immediately vanished as Thicket clawed at her face, trying to get whatever was digging into her eyeball out.

“Yoa.”

Water crashed into her. Thicket gasped as it tumbled down her body. She wiped her face with the crook of her arm and gaped at Marcellus. His piranha hovered behind him, as if taunting her as much as the man himself. It was made of rippling water, blurring her view of the farmhouse as she peered through, though she could still make out its features from the light refracting across its body.

“Were you trying to drown me?” she demanded.

Marcellus shrugged innocently. “I was trying to help flush out your eye.”

“Well you used enough water to fill a lake.”

“So, would you say I lacked control?”

Thicket opened her mouth to argue, then paused, biting down on her cheek. He wasn’t trying to antagonize her—at least, that wasn’t his only intention. He was trying to make a point.

Using wind had been effective, just like Marcellus’ inconvenient method to get the dirt from her eye. But she hadn’t put enough intention behind it.

“Vynt,” she said again. A second gust of wind swirled to life, only this time it circled around her body, whipping her hair and clothes around until they were dry. Then, she directed it out into the room, along the walls and ceiling, gathering the cobwebs and dust before focusing on the floor. When she was done, she willed the wind to fade, leaving a thick pile in its wake.

Thicket snuck a glance at Marcellus, waiting to see his thoughts.

“Good,” he said and Thicket swore she glimpsed the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Now there are two things I want you to master before you leave this farmhouse.” Marcellus held out his hand. “Fya.”

Thicket stared at the flame flickering above his palm, transfixed. She had never seen his fire before. The crimson tendrils cast deep shadows across his dark skin, fierce and enchanting. Looking at it, she couldn’t imagine how it would be weak, though the way his piranha sagged beside her indicated just how much of a toll it was taking him to wield both. Marcellus didn’t let the wear show as he gestured to the flame.

“You already have experience with this, however without an Aneuma, you will have to train yourself to retain control over both elements, as well as build the stamina to maintain it without exhausting your energy.” As he said the words, his fire winked out, right alongside his piranha, the water that had encompassed its body falling to the floor with a splat.

“There is one more method I want you to practice. Instead of simply wielding two spells at a single time, you will use one to alter the other’s properties. For example: yoa yt fya.”

Marcellus’ piranha remerged, however this time its body didn’t flow. It steamed and spat, as though its form was barely able to contain the roiling water within.

The piranha fell apart once more, dispersing into a dozen sizzling beads. “Altering spells can be difficult to master,” he said, wiping the sweat lining his brow. “Most people never bother learning unless they are interested in a career that requires knowing how to do advanced enchantments.”

“Then why bother teaching me?”

“Because your sister excels at it.”

Thicket closed her eyes. Of course her sister knew how. She probably had, too, before she lost her memories.

“Do you think I will master it before I face her?”

“No.”

She felt the brutal truth solidify in her gut.