“I was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor glaring at my up-turned hands, trying to figure out why I couldn't form fire. I'd done it before, why couldn't I do it on command? What was wrong with me? Lysander sat in front of me, his legs tucked next to him. "Breathe, Evelyn, these things take time." I took a long deep breath and tried to relax. I knew it wouldn't be something I mastered in an hour, but I hadn't even formed a tiny flame in the hours we'd been there. The sun... was sinking below the red rooves, and I still didn't have any fire. The last times that I'd made any real progress, lives had been in danger; I wasn't willing to do that just to try and control the absurd magic I'd been landed with. Quin had at least been given alchemy that seemed to be useful; he could explode jars, and there I was with nothing. Lysander ran his hands over mine. "Focus, Evelyn. You have a lot of anger, focus it. Form it into a small ball in your chest, then channel that through your hands." I went to argue with him, to tell him that I didn't have a lot of anger, but he was right.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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