“Duncan, what are you doing?” I asked.
“I, uh … moving the chair. I guess.” He seemed confused but coherent, and once he picked up the chair, he gave me an even more bewildered look. “I don’t know where to, though.”
“Set it anywhere,” I told him absently and turned to Tove. “I did that?”
“Of course you did that. I could hear you chanting loud and clear, and if you’d harnessed it better, I’d be the one picking up the chair.” He crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a look that bordered on disapproving.
“I didn’t try to do that. I wasn’t even looking at him.”
“That makes it even worse, doesn’t it?” Tove asked.
“I don’t understand,” Duncan said. He’d set down the chair, and, now free of his duty, walked over to us. “What are you expecting her to do?”
“You need to control your energy before someone gets hurt.” Tove looked at me solemnly, his mossy eyes bravely meeting mine for almost a minute before he turned away. He gestured around his head, in much the same way Loki had when he explained how he knew I had persuasion. “You have so much going on. It comes off like a…”
“Static?” I suggested.
“Exactly!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “You need to tune it, get your frequencies in check, like a radio.”
“I would love to. Just tell me how.”
“It’s not a matter of turning a dial. You have no on or off switch.” He walked around in a large lazy circle. “It’s something you have to practice. It’s more like being potty-trained. You have to learn when to hold it and when to release.”
“That’s a pretty sexy analogy,” I said.
“You can move the chair.” Tove stopped suddenly. “But that can wait. You need to learn to rein in your persuasion.” He looked at Duncan. “Duncan, you don’t mind being experimented on, do you?”
“Um … I guess not?”
“Tell him to do something. Anything.” He tilted his head, still watching Duncan, then turned to me. “But make sure I can’t hear.”
“How? I don’t even know how you’re hearing,” I pointed out.
“Focus. You have to focus your energy. It’s imperative.”
“How?” I repeated.
He kept telling me to do things without giving me any clue how. He might as well have been telling me to build a damn rocket ship. I had no idea what to do.
“You were more focused when you were around Finn,” Tove said. “You were more grounded, in the way electricity is grounded.”
“Well, he’s not here,” I snapped.
“It doesn’t matter. He didn’t do anything,” Tove continued, unfazed. “You’re the one with the power. You grounded yourself around him. You tell me how.”
I didn’t want to think about Finn or the way I had been around him. One of the reasons I had been excited for this training was because it would distract me from thoughts of him. Now Tove was telling me that Finn was the key to my success. Perfect.
Instead of yelling at Tove, I walked away. I hated the way he seemed to know everything, but lacked the ability to articulate anything. I stretched my arms and rolled my neck, working out the tension. Duncan started to say something, but Tove shushed him.
Finn. When I was around Finn, what did I do differently? He made me crazy. He made my heart beat too fast and my stomach swirl, and it was hard to take my eyes off him. Whenever he was around, I’d hardly been able to think of anything.
And that was it. It was almost too simple.
When Finn was around, my focus had been on him. That restrained my energy somehow. If my conscious mind focused on something, the rest of my mind would pull itself in. Maybe my energy was going crazy now because I was trying not to think of Finn.
Finn wasn’t the key. But when he’d been around, I had let my mind focus. When he wasn’t, I tried not to think of anything, because everything reminded me of him. Everything scattered all over, latching on to anything it could.
I closed my eyes. Think of something. Focus on anything.
Finn came to my mind first, the way he always did, but I pushed him away. I could think of something else. The first thing I thought of after him was Loki, and that shocked me, so I discounted him instantly. I didn’t want to focus on him. Or anyone, for that matter.
I thought of the garden behind the palace. It was gorgeous, and I loved it. Elora had painted a beautiful picture of it, but it didn’t really do the place justice. I remembered the way the flowers smelled, and the way the grass felt cool on my bare feet. Butterflies had flown about, and I could hear the stream babbling past me.
“Try it now,” Tove suggested.
I turned to look at Duncan. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, and he gulped, as if he were afraid I might slap him. Keeping the image of the garden in my mind, I started repeating, Whistle “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” It seemed mundane, but that was the point. I didn’t want to hurt him.