I can’t hold on to it.
“There is no one here to hurt. It’s just you, me, and this field.”
I nod and try to slow my breathing.
“You deserve to rest. Release your breath, release all the tension you’re carrying, and let go. You’re safe here.”
I can’t get the images out of my head. “I can’t do it,” I say, my voice shaking. I’m scared.
“Yes, you can. We’re going to take a deep breath together, and when we exhale, you’re going to let go. Deep breath in,” he says.
I inhale again, and my magic waits.
“Let your body get heavy, release the tension, and exhale.”
I see myself at the top of the waterfall. Afraid, worried, hurt. And then I see myself giving in to the current, flowing over the edge, eyes closed, water roaring. I’m falling.
Power rushes out of me in an unrestrained surge. It’s so strong, it feels as if all my insides are going with it, my muscles and organs and bones. I gasp from the force of it, but I don’t seize up. I don’t hold back.
I let it all go.
Wind barrels toward the evergreens, the aggressive, cold magic of winter fueling it as it charges on. I give it everything I have.
Then I open my eyes and watch.
Wind slams into the woods, toppling the first tree it hits. But it doesn’t stop there. Tree after tree crashes to the ground like a row of dominoes, making the earth beneath me shake. Plumes of dust rise from the woods, but I can’t look away. The wind roars as it barrels into the last row of evergreens, tossing them aside as if they’re twigs used to play fetch. It happens so fast.
The ground vibrates. Silence takes over after the final thuds echo off the mountainside.
My breathing is shallow, and my heart pounds.
I stare at the path of fallen trees. My whole body shakes as I take in the destruction.
Then a rumbling sound starts in the distance, and I watch in horror as snow rushes down the side of the mountain. It starts gradually, as if it’s happening in slow motion, and then all at once, it picks up speed and tears down the mountainside.
There’s nothing I can do but watch as the avalanche takes out hundreds more trees before finally coming to a stop.
Clouds of snow rise into the air like smoke, mixing with the dust the fallen evergreens kicked up.
The world gets quiet again, except for my quick, ragged breaths. A sound escapes my lips, something between a groan and a sob.
Sang stands beside me, staring at the ravaged mountainside.
“There’s nothing between us and the mountains other than trees?”
I shake my head. Eastern sits on thousands of acres, nestled in the valleys of the Poconos. Plenty of room for error, as Mr. Hart used to say.
My eyes are stuck on the damage I caused. I can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t breathe.
“Hey, you’re okay,” Sang says, moving in front of me. He locks his eyes with mine. “Just breathe.”
I take in a deep, shaky breath.
“Good, that’s good. Keep your eyes on me. Right here,” he says. “Good. Keep breathing.”
I take several more breaths. Slowly, my body stops shaking. My mind stops spiraling, and I can think again.
“That was bad,” I say.
“Well, you did blow past your baseline, so technically this is the best run you’ve had.”
“You did not just make a pun.”
“I did,” he says solemnly.
I want to yell at him, tell him this isn’t funny. Remind him how inordinately out of control I am.
But when I open my mouth, I don’t yell.
I laugh.
It’s a nervous, frantic kind of laughter, but laughter all the same. Then Sang is laughing too, and we’re both bent over at the waist, tears streaming down our faces.
It’s the first time I’ve laughed, truly laughed, since Nikki died.
Chapter Fifteen
“Be wary of those who will let you apologize for who you are.”
—A Season for Everything
Ms. Suntile does not laugh when we tell her what happened. She even goes so far as to tell me I’ve been irresponsible, but Sang defends me. He tells her it’s the most power I’ve been able to summon yet, which is precisely what she wanted from me in the first place. And now that I’ve done it, I can start the hard work of learning to control it.
She doesn’t have much to say to that, and so we leave with the understanding that we will replant as many trees as we can come spring.
Mr. Burrows, to his credit, agrees with us, and I’m relieved to know he won’t be taking over my training anytime soon.
“Thanks for your help in there,” I say to Sang as we leave the administration building. I zip my jacket up and shove my hands into my pockets.
“She’s hard on you,” he says.
“I think she just expects a lot from me. Eastern, and Ms. Suntile in particular, took a risk by allowing me to stay here after Nikki died, and I’m sure she just wants it to be worth it.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“What is?”
Sang stops walking and gives me an incredulous look. “Clara, you’re the first Ever in over a hundred years. You seriously think Ms. Suntile did you a favor by keeping you here?”
“Yeah,” I say, but my voice rises at the end like I’m asking a question.
“I won’t pretend to know what happened after Nikki died, but there is no way Ms. Suntile would have let you leave this school. You’re the most powerful witch alive. Having you here makes her powerful too.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not saying the school is bad or ill-intentioned or anything. I’m just saying that you’re doing them a favor by being here, not the other way around. You should
