Goddess Boot Camp

surroundings, but I feel like someone shut off all my muscles.

Help.I try to scream. But I can't open my mouth. No sound vibrates in my throat. I can't call out for help.

I start to panic. My heart is beating faster than it ever has. Tears well in my eyes.

Help,I try again. Help, help, help.

That's not working. Maybe someone is still close by, watching out for me. Maybe they'll see that I chose the wrong door-or whatever sent me into this trap-and come save me.

After what feels like several torturous hours-but was probably like two minutes-I realize no one is coming. Stella and her posse aren't going to rescue me. I can't scream to let them know I'm in trouble.

There has to be another way.

If they can't hear my voice, maybe they can hear my mind.

Help,I say with my mind. I focus my mental communication, my psychodictation,on Stella because I know her best. That might make my efforts easier. Please, I beg. Help. I'm trapped. Set me free.

Instantly, I'm free and stumbling forward onto my hands and knees.

All you had to dowas ask,Stella replies.

'Aaargh!' I scream at no one. I should have known it was just another obstacle.

I take a minute, allowing my heart rate and adrenaline levels to return to the vicinity of normal, before moving on. Right now I just want this stupid obstacle course done.

I tear ahead, focused on finishing to the exclusion of everything else. I almost don't see the barricade of briar bushes until it's too late. At the last second, their image flashes into my mind-thanks to self- preserving corpoprotection,probably. I don't have time to do anything but react. Instinct and some corpopromotionsuperstrength send me high-jumping over the barricade, and landing safely on the other side.

For the love of Nike,' I grumble, 'How many times do I have to almost die or get seriously injured?'

Okay, I have to admit that, even without using the protection, I haven't actually gotteninjured. And maybe, just maybe, that's part of the exercise.

Deciding that caution is more important than speed, I set out at awalk. I try to mentally list the obstacles I've done so far. If you count the briar barricade for two powers, then I've completed eleven. Eleven (dangerous) obstacles without injury. My powers haven't failed me once, guiding me over, around, and through as if my eyes were wide open. Better, even. If I could see what I had to face, I'd probably be too scared to attempt it.

Considering the twelve dynamotheospowers, I expect just one more obstacle. No big deal. I'm in the homestretch.

When I round a bend in the course and find myself up against a solid wall, I stop in my tracks.

In my mind I can see the wall perfectly. It's tall, maybe ten ortwelve feet, spans the entire width of the path and into the woods beyond, and is completely smooth. Focusing my powers, I search for a foothold or a rope or anything that will get me over. Nothing. It might as well be a wall of ice.

Maybe my mental image is wrong. Maybe it's not as tall as I think.

I walk forward until I'm about a foot away, bend down, and jump as high as I can, reaching for a ledge to grab onto.

My body smacks full-on into the wall. As I slide back down to the ground, I wonder how on earth I'm supposed to get over this obstacle.

'You can't defeat this obstacle so easily,' Stella says from somewhere to my left. 'Even if we removed the blindfold, you couldn't succeed through physical means alone.'

'This is the ultimate test,' Adara adds. 'You can only get through by using your powers.'

What on earth does that mean? Before I can ask them to explain, I feel a soft breeze and know that they're gone.

Okay, I can figure this out. I've made it this far trusting nothing but my powers-and my sense of self-preservation. Surely getting over a wall can't be that hard.

'It's not about going overthe wall,' a distant-yet-familiar voice whispers within my mind. 'Feel the victory inside you, Phoebester.'

Dad?

That is notpossible. I give my head a brain-rattling shake. I must be suffering from sensory deprivation after being blindfolded so long. My subconscious is playing tricks on me. That's all.

'Come on,' Adara shouts from the far side of the wall. 'We have to start camp soon. I'd hate to leave you out here on the course.'

She grunts, like someone just elbowed her in the gut.

'We believe in you, Phoebe,' Stella says. 'You just have to believe in yourself.'

I roll my eyes behind the blindfold. As if that's not a cheesy, movie-of-the-week line. Still, I want to finish this course, to prove that I can handle anything they throw at me-the counselors andthe gods.

'Okay,' I say to myself. Think this through. If there's no way aroundthe wall. And I'm not about to make it overthe wall. Then there's only one other option…'

Suddenly I know exactly what I have to do.

I managed it that night on the beach, when my emotions took the reins, and on the cross-country course the other day. Now I just need to use my mind to achieve the same result consciously.

Placing my palms to the wall, I picture myself on the other side.

I focus all my energy on having gotten myself throughthe expanseof two-by-fours. My mind shuts out all other stimuli. No sounds, notouches, no tastes, no smells. Just me, on the other side of this wall.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Someone's arms wrap around me.

'You did it!' Stella shouts. 'Omigods, you were so awesome!'

I reach up and rip off the blindfold. Sure enough, I'm on the other side of the wall, at the end of the obstacle course. Stella's hugging me and shouting. Adara crosses her arms over her chest andsmiles smugly. As if she's the reason I made it through. Xander is clapping and smiling.

'We knew you would make it, Phoebola.'

Twisting out of Stella's embrace, I turn to find Mom and Damian standing off to the side. Looking as proud as I've ever seen them.

I run into Mom's arms. 'You're not supposed to get home until tonight.'

'When Damian told me what they were going to put you through this morning,' she says, squeezing me close, 'I insisted we catch an earlier flight so we could be here to share in your triumph.'

She sounds so certain, like there was never a doubt that I would make it through this obstacle course. I was never that sure.

'I'm glad you're here,' I whisper.

As she tucks a loose clump of hair behind my ear, she says, 'It killed me to be so far away while you were struggling.' She smiles painfully. 'But you're such a strong, independent girl, I knew you needed to process this on your own.'

'I know.' Besides, it's not like she could have helped me or anything. This is kind of beyond the realm of her psychoanalytical expertise. And if I'd really needed her, she would have skipped out on her honeymoon