Strong enough that my magic never hurts anyone else ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“There will come a time when you believe you no longer need to be challenged. And when that time comes, you’ll be wrong.”
—A Season for Everything
Sang is standing on the control field when I arrive for our last training session of the season. His stance is rigid, and he doesn’t smile when he sees me.
He’s still mad.
There’s a large, dark rain cloud hovering next to him, and I assume we’ll be working on hail or sleet. But he doesn’t say anything.
With one swift motion, he shoves the cloud at me, hard, and the energy from it knocks me back.
“What the hell?”
He shoves the cloud again.
“Seriously, Sang, what is wrong with you?”
“You’re not the only one who can pick a fight,” he says. “Or did you think that was a talent only you had?”
Now I’m angry. “Wow, get over yourself.” I shove the cloud as hard as I can back in his direction.
He’s expecting it, though, and he stays where he is. He closes his eyes and fills the cloud even more, this huge, dark presence between us.
This time, he throws the cloud over my head, and before I have time to move, he squeezes his hand. The cloud bursts, and I’m drenched in rain.
I stalk over to him and shove him hard on the shoulder. He stumbles back.
“Use your magic,” he says. His voice is low but rough, and it causes a weird sensation deep in my core.
I yell in frustration. As quickly as I can, I pull moisture from the snow-covered grass until a thunderstorm cloud sits heavy in front of me. It takes just seconds. Winters aren’t as capable with thunderstorms, but I can control a small one.
Besides, I’m not using it for thunder or lightning.
I send an intense current of air straight up into the storm, pushing droplets of water into the coldest part until they freeze. Hailstones form, dozens of them, and I let the storm take over. The hailstones descend into warmer air, gather more water, then lift and freeze again, over and over, until the updraft of air can no longer support their weight.
I throw the storm at Sang at the exact moment hail starts to drop. The hailstones are larger than I intended, and one after another, they pelt him in the face. He jumps out of the way and covers his head with his hands, but it’s too late. There’s a huge gash on his lip, bright red with blood, and another cut on his forehead.
“Sang, I’m sorry—” I start, but before I can get to him, a small tornado, no larger than a person, slams into me.
If it were spring, Sang never could have done that safely. His magic would be too strong, and the tornado would be too powerful. Lucky for me, it’s winter.
Still, it’s enough to knock me off my feet. I hit the snow, and my whole body gets hot with anger. I push myself to standing. With shaking hands, I form a tiny snowball, then roll it onto the ground.
I close my eyes and send my magic chasing after it. The snowball picks up speed, getting larger and larger as it goes. I send it around the perimeter of the field, picking up layer after layer of snow until it’s taller than I am.
I’m about to send the giant snowball tearing toward Sang, wanting to knock him to the ground and bury him in snow, when he motions to the trees.
At his command, they bend over and block the path directly in front of the snowball. I don’t have enough time to change its course, and it slams into the trees and explodes, sending snow everywhere.
“Not bad for someone who just fusses around with plants, huh?”
I don’t answer. I’m so mad I can’t think straight. In the time it takes for Sang to throw my words back at me, winter magic pours from my fingers in a flood of rage. I build a small, intense blizzard.
I throw it at Sang, knowing he can’t do a thing about it. Spring magic can’t touch blizzards.
He falls to the ground as the blizzard hammers him with snow and wind. Soon he’s almost buried, and I walk over and look down at him.
“Not good enough.”
Sang rolls out of the way and stands, sending a shower of warm rain over the blizzard. It dissipates the storm and douses me in the face.
Then I think of our drill, the wind I’ve summoned over and over with him. I close my eyes, and the air answers instantly, building up a current I send directly at Sang. He dodges it and steps toward me, and I quickly change the wind’s course. It’s stronger than I thought, though, and it catches Sang in the back and tosses him toward me.
We both fall backward. He lands right on top of me.
It’s so windy that the snow on the ground rises into the air, swirling all around us. Sang tries to move off of me, but I’m not done yet, and soon we’re rolling around in the snow, me on top of him, him on top of me.
Snow gets in my hair and down the neck of my jacket, sending cold water running down my skin. My hat fell off ages ago, and my hands are freezing.
Our magic follows us around like shadows, his trying to help him, mine trying to help me. Even the calm that’s laced with his magic isn’t enough to relieve the anger between us. We grunt and grab and get tangled up in each other, refusing to relent.
My magic pulses inside me, waiting to be used. With all my might, I roll and send Sang onto his back. I pin his arms with my chest and use everything I have left to pummel him with magic.
I don’t pause at the top of the waterfall; I barrel over it with unrestrained fury, reaching for my magic to end
