Cheyenne stiffened. Ember.
“On a scale of one to ten, how does that feel in terms of rage fuel?”
The heat flared along the half-drow’s skin, and it washed over her like a flash this time. Cheyenne drew a long, steadying breath.
“Okay.” Mattie nodded, her smile widening. “I struck a nerve.”
“She’s my friend.”
“That must be hard.”
“Ya think?” Cheyenne spat.
“Yep. I’d be pissed if one of my friends got shot. Did you see it happen?”
A low, warning growl escaped the half-drow’s throat.
“Right.” Mattie tapped a finger against her lips again, studying her student’s face. Cheyenne’s eye twitched. “And you wished you could’ve done something about it.”
“I did something about it,” Cheyenne hissed. “Just not enough. The asshole got away.”
“Oh, yeah? What’d you do? Tell him to stop or else?”
“You know what?” Cheyenne’s teeth ground together, and she glared at her professor. “Maybe I should just think about you when I’m trying to get pissed.”
“Hey, if that’s what works.” Grinning, Mattie leaned sideways to watch the halfling from a different angle that didn’t make sense, then snapped her fingers and lifted her hand in front of her face, pointing at Cheyenne. “There. Right there. That’s the black fire in your eyes. Hold onto that.”
“And do what?” The words came out with surprising effort. Every muscle in Cheyenne’s body burned with the heat and all the rage she’d unleashed on a bunch of moronic orcs in the skatepark. She saw Ember in her arms, covered in blood, and heard the soft, slow whisper of her friend’s pulse.
“Nothing.” Mattie didn’t take her gaze from her student’s. The smile was gone. “Just keep it there, Cheyenne. Sit with it. Keep thinking of your friend if you feel it slipping. Embrace it. Really feel it.”
“I’m gonna make you feel it if you don’t stop talking about it.” Purple and black sparks burst from Cheyenne’s fingertips and dropped on the carpet.
Mattie eyed the floor but didn’t seem to think the fire-hazard carpet was worth more attention than that. “Can you stay there without me poking the drow bear?”
A thicker spray of sparks erupted from Cheyenne’s fingers when she spread them wide. Her chest heaved, and a tremble appeared in her arm before she stomped it down. “I can stay here.”
“Perfect.” With a sharp flick of her wrist and another quick spellcasting gesture, Mattie sent a soft neon-yellow light into the air in front of them. The light rearranged itself into floating numbers—0:00. A timer began.
Cheyenne grunted and held the rage and the sparks at her fingertips and the fire inside that made her drow—or half, at least. “You started a magical timer. It better just be for this. ‘Cause I don’t run laps or anything.”
Mattie glanced around her office and pursed her lips. “I imagine you’d need more space for something like that. In here, anyway.”
Chapter Fourteen
“This is ridiculous.” Cheyenne paced across Professor Bergmann’s office, purple sparks occasionally bursting from her hands and trailing behind her.
“Ridiculous and necessary.” Mattie sat on the edge of one armchair and crossed her legs, one foot bouncing up and down.
“It’s a universal truth that bottling everything up is bad for you.” When Cheyenne shook out her hands, another spray of sparks erupted, some of them landing close to the bookshelf against the wall filled with binders and loose papers.
The professor’s foot stopped swinging. “That’s what you were doing. Now you’re releasing. Let it all out.”
“No, I’m not,” the halfling growled. “This is like having to sneeze without being able to.”
“And for…” Mattie glanced at the neon timer she’d conjured midair. “Almost fifteen minutes. At least you keep beating your own records.”
Cheyenne stopped short, spun toward her professor, and nodded. “I’m ready.”
“To keep practicing? Absolutely. The clock’s still running.”
“No, I’m ready to do something. Magic. Training. Let’s go.”
“That’s what you’re doing, Cheyenne. This is—”
“Just stop!” The half-drow spread her arms, and even more sparks flared. “Stop telling me to stay here. If you’re gonna train me, train me. I’m in my angry place. Do your job.”
“Oh, it’s my job now, huh?” Mattie nodded. “If you can pay more than my tenure, we’ll call it official.”
I can, and she knows it. Instead of saying anything about it, Cheyenne cocked her head and released more of her “angry place” into a continuous shower of sparks raining all over the floor. Thin wisps of smoke rose from the carpet. “Teach me how to fight the way I want to. With control.”
Mattie’s eyes widened at her student’s volatile magic. “Okay, okay.” She stood and dusted off her hands. Another few gestures with her fingers made the singed carpet around Cheyenne’s feet hiss within summoned puddles of water. The smoke cleared and filtered into the air. “Good thing I turned off the smoke detectors.”
Cheyenne glanced at the ceiling. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. So.” The professor stopped in front of the dark-skinned, white-haired, and eager student with drow magic humming through her. “If you want control over your abilities, you need to give it up.”
“Yeah, that didn’t work so well.”
“Right.” Mattie spread her arms and stepped back. “So, what were you trying to do when it didn’t work so well?”
“I was trying to fry the asshole with a gun in his hand.” Cheyenne hissed out a disgusted breath. “I almost had him. I think.”
“You think. Huh. Do you even know what you were thinking?”
“My friend got shot by an orc,” Cheyenne growled. “Was I supposed to be thinking about something else?”
“Yes. You need to think of everything else. And nothing. Got it?”
“Just tell me what to do.”
Narrowing her eyes, Mattie performed another series of gestures, then raised her hand behind her and flicked her wrist. The jar of pens on her desk rattled and floated through the air. It stopped a few feet away. “Put something in the jar.”
“What?”
“In the jar, Cheyenne. A pebble. A hair. Those cute little sparks.”
“Cute?”
“Focus.” Mattie held the halfling’s gaze and tilted her head. “Put something in
