“I’m sure,” she says sarcastically. “Now, seeing as you missed the beginning of my introduction, I’m wondering what you can tell me about the earth mark and what it can do. Or, will I need to repeat that information for you?” she asks me.
“The earth mark is one of the most versatile marks. It can be used both as a simple control over natural matter, like moving rocks. Or it can be used in stuff like helping plants grow or curing the rot from a tree,” I answer. She stares at me for a moment as if surprised by my answer, before turning back to the class as a whole and continuing to lecture on the topic.
“How did you know that?” Logan whispers.
“One of my mum’s most powerful marks is earth. You should see our garden,” I answer quietly, before turning back to listen to the teacher.
“Now, class, I would first like to focus on the more nature-focused aspect of this mark.” She grabs a black bag from the ground next to her, and pulls out some flowers, dead looking flowers. No prizes for guessing what we were going to be doing today. “Take one and hand the rest along, Lucinda,” she says, passing them to the girl nearest to her. She does as she says, and the flowers pass along the two rows of seated students until we all have one. Now we’ve all got a dead flower. Fantastic.
“Now, I want you to place the stem of the flower to the ground. You will call on your mark, and try to reconnect your flower to the ground by growing its roots,” she explains.
I lay my flower down onto the ground, keeping a hand on it as I picture the earth mark in my head. A leaf curled into a circle. It’s one of the smaller marks, usually coming out a lot smaller on people’s skin than the others.
Calling on the mark and placing my other hand on the ground next to the flower, I’m waiting for something to happen. When the roots don’t immediately grow, and the flower doesn’t spring back into life, I huff and sit back, glancing around at the rest of the class. They appear to be having more success than I am. Some of them have already got the roots grown back, whereas others have completed the exercise and have pretty, live looking flowers in front of them. I put my hands back on the flower, covering where the stem meets the ground. Maybe if I can’t actually see it, it’ll work better.
I call on the mark again, feeling it respond to my call this time. I push as much energy into the plant as I can all at once, not wanting to be the last to finish the task we have been given.
A bird cries overhead, and I look up, making sure it’s not flying over me. It would just be my luck if it shit on my head. I try and spot the bird, but can’t see it anywhere.
“Kenzie?” Logan says, dragging my attention to him. I turn to face him.
“What?” I ask.
“What are you doing? The ground . . .,” he trails off.
I look down at the ground, lifting my hands away. My flower has grown roots and come to life, but all the grass within ten feet of me has grown too. Thick, lush, and deep-green, nothing like the state it was in just moments before. I notice the grass is still growing, flowers shooting out from the ground, the effect spreading even further. The whole class has turned to face me, the direct centre of the circle of green. I release the hold on the mark in my mind, stopping the flow of magic.
“Well, there is no need to show off, Mackenzie,” the teacher says, but she’s smiling now. Maybe I’m forgiven for being late?
“Shit, Kenzie. Were you even trying?” Logan whispers.
“Kind of? I was trying to do it quickly, so I pushed more energy into it, I’m not sure how the rest of this happened . . .,” I trail off, looking at the thick sea of green around me.
“Energy has to go somewhere, I guess. The flower didn’t need anymore, so the excess energy spread and gave life to everything else,” he supplies.
“That would be correct, Logan,” the teacher cuts in, having made her way across to us so quietly I hadn’t noticed her approach. “You will have to be careful with your gift, Mackenzie. Although it is good that the earth responds so easily to you, things are meant to die. We respect nature’s cycle, for the most part. Just giving it helping hands along the way. So, don’t go bringing every dull field to life now,” she jokes.
“I won’t,” I answer anyway.
“Good,” she replies to me, she then directs her attention to the whole class again. “We will now focus on what is normally the showier aspect of the earth power, manipulation.” She goes back to her black bag and pulls out some smooth, black stones, handing one to each of us. “Place the stone on the ground in front of you,” she instructs. I place mine on the ground next to Logan’s.
“This is just like moving rocks, right?” I ask Logan softly.
“Pretty much, but some people can bring a whole house down, and some can cause large-scale earthquakes,” he replies. I nod my head, having heard about a huge castle once brought to ruins by an earth marked’s power.
“All I want you to do for now, class, is to bring the stone into your hand. For those of you with the air marks, no cheating and using the air to bring it to you,” she explains. Everyone affirms their agreement with mumbles. “Oh and, Mackenzie?” she asks.
“Yes, Miss?”
“Try not to cause an earthquake,” she replies dryly.
“I make no promises,” I quip, holding my hand out towards my rock. This time I try not to focus on what everyone else is doing, and concentrate my focus solely onto my rock. I try to make it roll to me, calling on my earth mark, as I’m picturing that curved leaf in my head. Nothing. It doesn’t even twitch. Cautiously, I push more power into my call. I wait for a moment, expecting something to happen but nothing. I try pushing more energy into it, slowly at first, but then just shoving as much into the damn rock as I can. I can feel sweat beading on my forehead. No matter how much I push into it, nothing happens. Not a damn thing.
“Are you okay, Kenzie?” Logan asks.
“It’s not working,” I reply, releasing the pull on my power.
“Sometimes people can only use one side of the earth power,” he explains softly.
“I know that, but I guess I didn’t think I’d be one of them,” I reply. He brushes a strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.
“You don’t have to be good at everything,” he says.
“I guess,” I reply, feeling a little bummed. No earthquakes for me, I suppose.
“Hey, don’t look so glum. You might still be able to, maybe you just need to practice?”
“I know, it’s just everything else has kind of come pretty easily.”
“Maybe you have to struggle with the rest of us mere mortals now?” he teases. I roll my eyes. And then, I find myself looking at him, noticing how his shirt clings tightly against his broad frame. With a body like his, he looks anything but a mere mortal.
“What are you thinking?” he asks me.
“Nothing,” I snap. “Why do you ask?”
“Because your eyes seemed to glaze over. It was the same look Locke gets when there’s food,” he teases.
“It was so not,” I mutter.
“So, you’re not hungry?” he asks, leaning back and incidentally giving me an even more impressive view as his arms tense from leaning back on them.