“Ready?” I call to Paige. Her body is tense, and she’s shaking.
She nods, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her look truly scared.
I close my eyes, and Paige’s magic rushes to the surface of her skin, aching to be let out, to help in some way. I recognize it instantly—the bite of winter, aggressive and deliberate. It’s weak, but there’s enough to grab hold of, and I send my power chasing after it.
Paige inhales a sharp breath, and I know she feels it now. She takes a step away from me and tries to hide her magic, but I step closer and catch her hand in mine.
“You’re okay,” I say, hoping my words find her through the wind. “Don’t fight it.”
“That’s all I know how to do with you,” she says.
The words slam into my chest and reach for my heart, threatening to break it. But I know exactly what she means, because it was always that way. We fought against our pull toward each other, our desire and love and want. We fought when we were together, each always wanting more than the other could give. We fought sleep so we could stay awake for one more kiss, one more sentence, one more touch.
And when we broke up, we fought against the feelings that didn’t understand, that stayed where they were even though we had long since left.
“I know.”
As soon as I say it, her hand stops pulling against my own, and her body relaxes, letting her magic flow toward me in a solid rush of power.
I think about Sang’s sleeping orange and how maybe that’s all anyone really wants: to be seen by another person, to be validated even when we work so hard to hide certain parts of ourselves. Maybe especially then.
I let go of Paige’s hand. She’s still shaking, but her magic responds right away. I pull as much as I can, the gentle, patient nature of spring replaced with the precision and force of winter. Magic wraps around magic, spring summons winter, and when I cannot hold the strength of it any longer, I direct it at the storm.
The blizzard shifts, trying to get away, but I grab hold of the wind and drape it in freezing magic that calms it down. It fights, moving left and right, up and down, trying to break free, but I hold it steady.
The thrill of cold moves through my veins, and I see myself on the river, calm and peaceful and steady. When I get to the waterfall, I don’t hesitate or try to swim against the current.
I fall.
Magic rushes toward the blizzard and blasts inside. Finally, it responds. Draped in power, the storm calms and the winds slow. In one swift motion, I pull more magic and send it chasing after moisture, absorbing it all until the earth and air are dry.
I focus on the water, eradicating each drop I encounter. Without moisture, there can be no clouds, no precipitation, no blizzard.
I’ve never used this much magic in my life, and even though I’m pulling from Paige, my entire body shakes, and I get light-headed. The storm fights against me, and I fight back.
I fight because for so long, I hated who I was, hated my power, hated how I change from season to season. But standing here with shaking hands, using magic that isn’t mine? It doesn’t feel bad. It feels cleansing.
There’s so much wind and snow that I can’t see anyone else on the field. The blizzard howls around me as if begging me to stop, begging me to let it be.
Only one of us can win.
With one final surge, I send freezing magic rushing through the air, attracting cold right to it, making way for warmth.
The temperature begins to rise.
Snow stops falling.
There is no more wind.
And then it’s over.
I can see all the way to the edge of the field.
Everything is silent, the world just as shocked as I am.
“Holy shit, Clara,” Paige breathes.
Her voice sounds distant and jumbled.
“That was extraordinary,” Mr. Burrows says, walking toward me. I squint, try to make him clearer, but I can’t. He’s blurry.
The air gets warmer, melting the snow that had started to accumulate. Spring takes over again, green grass and bright flowers peeking through the white earth.
I drop to the ground, no longer able to support my own weight.
I watch the remaining snowflakes melt and the sun punch through the clouds as if it was never hidden in the first place.
“Are you okay?” Sang kneels beside me, tilting my chin up so I look at him. I’m dizzy and weak and utterly exhausted. But I’m also shocked and filled with pride.
I used to think being alone was the answer, that letting Eastern isolate me was the only way to protect everyone else. But being in this field with Paige and Sang and my teachers, I know we were wrong. Being kept from other people was the very reason it took me so long to learn about this power, a power that is wholly dependent upon the strength of others.
I convinced myself I was okay being alone, that things were better that way.
But I’m not okay with it.
A life of isolation is too high a price for magic. A life of constantly worrying about those I love is too high a price.
And I don’t want to pay it.
Sang came into my life and opened me up to a magic I never would have known without him, and I refuse to give him up. I will keep him safe, whatever it takes.
“Paige says I look at you like you’re magic,” I say to him, not caring who hears me.
He laughs, and his eyes get teary. He searches my face and touches my skin, and I know that as long as he’s in the world, I want him beside me.
“You’re my sun,”
