mind on what you want to do. If you have the power, you can do it.”
I imitated his hand movement and focused all my mental energy on making the chair move. It wobbled and I did a dance in my own chair, shrieking with excitement. Owen laughed and made the chair do a flip in the air. My enthusiasm deflated.
“Show off,” I muttered.
“Yours will strengthen,” Tristan said.
“So what’s the difference between power and magic?”
I’d accepted that Tristan and I—and Mom and Rina—had powers years ago. What I didn’t realize was the magic behind them.
“Our powers are basically based on the will of the mind and we’re not supposed to be born with them,” Tristan said. “We come into them when it’s time for us to receive them, like with your Ang’dora. Of course, you and I both had some powers before then, but they were weak. Owen was born magic, but he has to learn how to use it.”
“You’ve been given enough magic to do certain things—abilities—but the power of your mind is how you use it,” Owen added. “I have magical powers, but I have to learn how to use different spells and reagents to make the power useful.”
I tried to make sense of their explanations. “So, Tristan and I, our magic is limited to the abilities we’re given and we control them with our mind. But you, Owen, can do all kinds of magic, if you know the spells or have the right tools or materials?”
“Right. You got it.” Owen grinned at me. “And your abilities are more physical—you might have to use the mind, but the power affects physical objects. I can conjure magical things out of nothing, like the protective shield over this place.”
“What about this ability to get into people’s heads?” I asked. “People’s minds and thoughts aren’t physical objects.”
“Which is why it’s such a rare gift,” Tristan said. “Even in the Amadis.”
“Of course, I’d be the one to get it,” I mumbled. It was one gift I really didn’t want.
He smiled. “It means your mind is strong enough to control such a unique power. It’s a good thing.”
I thought about Owen’s fantasy and grimaced. “I don’t know about that.”
“Let’s see what else you can do,” Owen suggested, changing the subject as if he knew my thoughts. Perhaps he did. I wasn’t positive I controlled my new “gift” very well.
They flashed and I walked to the edge of the property, by the trees and brush. Tristan and Owen took turns showing their strength by pulling out bushes with one hand and knocking over trees. They seemed to be trying to one-up each other. Of course, Tristan won on all accounts.
“All right, you’ve proven your point,” I said. “Any more and you two will ruin our privacy.”
“You try,” Owen said. “Here, start out small.”
He indicated a knee-high palmetto bush. I grabbed it at the base and tried to pull it out with both hands. The plant didn’t budge.
“Guess I still have to be pissed off,” I said. Or getting it on with my sweetie. I didn’t have to hear Tristan’s mind to know he thought the same thing. The small smile on his lips and the twinkle in his eyes told me. It was an inviting look and I so wanted to take him up on it. But we had things to do and places to go. I distracted myself by looking up at a tall coconut tree standing near us. “I won’t even try knocking over a palm tree, so don’t ask.”
“I have an idea, though,” Tristan said, following my gaze. He searched the ground and picked up a handful of small rocks, then looked up at the trees. “Try to hit the coconuts on that one.”
He pointed to another tree thirty yards away, the coconuts twenty feet high. I missed by several yards on the first try. Tristan stepped behind me and showed me how to aim properly. The electric pulse when he touched my hand brought back a memory, when he’d tried to show me how to shoot darts on our first date. Unlike those of the last seven years, this memory came bright and clear. I wondered if he remembered.
“I thought you weren’t going to do that anymore,” he reminded me, his voice in my head.
I looked at him guiltily. Sorry. It’s a nice memory I wanted to share.
“Thank you for it.” He raised his eyebrows. “Now please get out of my head.”
I grinned sheepishly and tried to close my mind by focusing on the tree. But suddenly all I could see was an image of many trees and brush stretching high over my head, as if I lay on the ground in the middle of a forest or overgrown vegetation. The vision disappeared as quickly as it came. I shook it off, dismissing it as nothing but a quick thought. I just didn’t know if it belonged to me, Tristan or Owen. And that annoyed me.
Owen and Tristan still watched me, both of their brows raised with expectation. I refocused on the tree and imagined a line the rock would follow between my hand and the coconut. I let the rock fly. Oh! I hit the seed dead on. And after doing so once, it came easily. I couldn’t miss.
“What else?” I asked excitedly, wanting to move on to the next thing. Now that I found something I could do, the tests were getting fun.
“Do you think she has enough power to project?” Owen asked thoughtfully.
“We’ll only find out if we try,” Tristan answered. He demonstrated by holding his left hand out toward a tree trunk about fifteen feet away, twisting his wrist and spreading his fingers in a flicking motion. A fireball shot out of his palm, singeing a hole in the bark. I jumped in surprise.
“Crap, Tristan, you never showed me that one!”
He chuckled. “I don’t like to use it. I can aim the fire perfectly, but it’s hard to control once it starts spreading. Besides, it’s much more effective to paralyze the enemy—or take them out completely with one shot.”
I stared at him, realizing I never completely understood just how powerful he was.
He raised his eyebrows. “Your turn.”
I looked down at my hands—my normal, human hands. They had performed all kinds of tasks over the years, from typing to changing diapers, from cleaning to throwing things, from punching a dirt-bag in the nose to caressing my baby’s cheek. Normal, human hands—amazing all on their own. I certainly didn’t expect them to ever shoot fire.
“C’mon already,” Owen moaned, apparently growing bored.
I lifted my left hand and made the same motion as Tristan had. I felt a strange tug, as if a thin thread was being drawn through my veins and out the center of my palm, pulling toward the tree. As soon as it—something —hit the tree, the feeling disappeared. A small wisp of smoke rose and a black dot marked the bark, but nothing singed. And, although I’d experienced a physical feeling, nothing visible projected out of my palm.
“Hmm. Let me see how strong it is,” Tristan said. He walked about ten feet out and stood in front of me. “Try me.”
“What? I’m not doing that!”
He laughed. “If that’s all you can do to the tree, I can take what you have.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and stood in a stance that showed he wouldn’t budge. I sighed and twisted my hand at him.
“Huh…that’s interesting,” he said. His lips pulled into a grin. “I felt an electric current. A shock.”
“Oh! It was always me?!” I stared at my palm as if it had turned into some mutant shape, but it still looked the same.
Tristan laughed again. “Guess so. I guess I pulled it out of you. Now try with your other hand.”
I did. I didn’t feel anything.
“Hmm…I felt a little warmth,” Tristan said. “Try again, but with your palm straight out.”
He demonstrated by holding his arm out and his hand up, as if motioning me to stop. I mimicked him and focused on pushing energy through it. I felt a ribbon of…something…a warm and soft feeling…flow through my arm and out my hand.
“Yeah, warmth. Ah.” He smiled. “Amadis power.”
“Really?” I asked. I bounced on the balls of my feet with elation. “Like Mom and Rina?”
“Not quite. It’s still pretty weak, but I can feel it.”
I looked at Owen and he nodded approvingly. My insides squirmed with excitement.
