Roar (Stormheart #1)(88)
“Children can be so cruel.”
“They’re afraid of anything that’s different. And I was too. But eventually, I stopped fearing my magic, stopped fearing what made me different, and my abilities became less volatile. I still had the occasional incident, but I was able to harness my magic to make my life better instead of worse.”
“I can imagine earth magic is very useful.”
“It is. But it took time to realize the full scope of my abilities. I thought at first that I could only do small things—making plants grow faster, fruit grow larger. It was not until later, until I needed my magic to be bigger, that I did anything more advanced. That’s how Duke found me actually. My mother died when I was in my teens, and it wasn’t safe to stay behind in the home we shared. So I set out on my own. My connection to the earth made it so that I could always find food. Or grow it if I needed it. And when storms came, I could coax the trees to provide shelter. But one day I happened to be traveling along the same road as Duke’s crew when a firestorm hit. There were no trees, not that they would have done me any good. We were all more than a little shocked when the earth opened up to swallow me and the hunters both until the storm passed.”
“That’s amazing.”
Jinx’s smile was so genuine and content. “It took me a while. But I know myself now. I know my worth. My mother always said that every kind of magic requires balance. You might see only the bad things now, but the good exists. You just have to be willing to find it.”
Jinx went to the saddlebags on her horse and began rummaging for something. She pulled out a small crossbow with a long rope attached. Roar recognized it as the tool the hunters called their anchor. Jinx tied one end of the rope to Roar’s harness, then attached both the crossbow and the small pouch that held excess rope to a metal loop on her hip.
The witch stood back and grinned. “Now you look like a hunter.”
Roar’s heartbeat picked up, excitement thrumming through her, and she smiled back.
“We’ll start with something simple,” Jinx said. “A thunderstorm. Your goal is to get to that line of earth I made. My goal is to stop you.”
The hunter raised her eyebrow in a challenge, and Roar answered, “You’re on.”
She lined up and set her sights on the finish line as Jinx pulled a jar filled with dark clouds and swirling rain from her holster. “I’ll keep the storm contained so it doesn’t spread too far. You just be ready for whatever comes,” Jinx told her.
Jinx pulled the cork and threw the bottle. Dark clouds began to rise from the jar like smoke as it flew through the air. When it hit the hard earth, the jar shattered and a gust of wind blew out in all directions. It picked up the sand, carrying it on the wind like a frothing, bloody wave. Roar covered her eyes, but she was too slow to close her mouth and she choked on the dust. Thunder cracked, so loud and close that the ground rumbled beneath Roar’s feet. And then it began to rain, the clouds reaching out like groping hands to snatch up more of the sky. It took a few moments to remember that she was supposed to be running, and by the time she did the rain had reached her, pummeling her skin and making the sand clump to her boots.
She set off at a hard run, her eyes fixed on that line of earth that was her goal. So she did not see when the ground bulged up only a few strides ahead of her. She tripped and went sprawling, mud spattering across her face. She looked behind her, and beyond the newly formed mound of earth was a smiling Jinx, standing still in the pouring rain.
Roar shoved herself up off the ground, and her hands sunk into the sticky mud. She slid back on her knees, her entire front covered in muck. Her boots were caked and heavy when she stood and began to run again. This time she saw the next trap coming, and she hurdled over the rising barrier.
Wind and rain lashed at her face, and she had to squint to protect her eyes. Another test came at her only moments later, but this time it was no small bit of earth made to trip her. It was much bigger, and the ground actually did quake as a wall of dirt sprang up in front of her. She tried to stop, but her feet slid in the mud, and she turned just in time for her side to collide with the blockade. It was tall, but narrow, so she used her momentum to spin, letting her back roll against the wall, until she met open air again. The downpour had only gotten heavier, and clods of dirt had plopped onto her head and shoulders from the impact. She brushed off the bigger clumps and ran again.
She was not even halfway to the end of the course, and what had looked like a simple distance to cross now loomed out in front of her as an endless muddy sea. Her eyes stung, but she did not dare try to wipe them. The rest of her was far less clean.
She leaped and dodged and spun over a few more obstacles, and her breath ripped from her lungs in heaving gasps. She just had to get to the end. She could do that. She was three-fourths of the way there now.
When the earth shook again, she readied herself for another wall, but instead the ground began to split in front of her, a chasm opening that stretched all the way across the magic-made obstacle course. Roar jumped. But the rift kept widening while she was in the air, and soon the ledge was out of her reach. Her feet landed on the slope of the crevasse. She clawed at the ledge above her, trying to pull herself up, but the wet earth kept coming loose in her fingers. Her feet slid until she came to stop in a trench that had to be at least ten feet deep.
The water was already up to her ankles, and more was pouring in, sliding down the walls of the pit like a waterfall. She could try to find the end, but she imagined Jinx could just keep lengthening the trench forever if she wished. And it would not take long for the water to rise. She could wait until the water was high enough to carry her to the surface, but there were too many things that could go wrong. Better to attempt to climb out before all the walls turned to mud around her.