“Undoubtedly.”
“Then let’s not, shall we?”
“My shoes can be cleaned.”
“Maybe I’ll aim higher next time.”
“Sam,” Morgan chided.
“What?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“This is for your own good,” Randall said.
“Really. That’s how you’re going to spin this? Why now? In the middle of this shitstorm, now is when you decide to be more hands-on?”
The skin under Randall’s right eye twitched, and I thought maybe I was wearing him down, at least a little bit. “Because of the level of magic you’ve exhibited.”
And that—well. I wasn’t expecting that. “Excuse me?”
“What happened in the desert?”
I frowned at him. “I got Zero on our side. Or rather, we got him on our side. Tiggy did some smashing. You know how it goes.”
“Before that.”
I didn’t know— “The sand mermaids.”
He nodded. “The sand mermaids. What you did, Sam, is not something you should have been able to do. It’s not something anyone should have been able to do.”
“How did you—no. You know what? I don’t even want to know.” Because it meant someone in my group had a fat mouth. Sure, it could be disguised as concern, but still.
“We’re… worried,” Morgan said. “It’s one thing to be powerful. It’s another to let your emotions dictate your magic.”
“That’s not fair.” I took a step back away from them. It felt like they were coming at me from all sides, and I couldn’t help the resentment that flooded through me. “They had Tiggy and Ryan. I wasn’t going to let them—”
“Do you even remember it?” Randall asked me. “Do you even remember what you did?”
No. I didn’t. “Mostly.”
“What words did you use?”
“What?”
“The words, Sam,” Randall said. “What words of the ancient tongue did you say aloud? And if they were not spoken, what words did you think?”
“I didn’t—”
“You didn’t?”
“I didn’t have time to think of words,” I amended, aware of how neatly I was being trapped.
“Magic is a construct,” Randall said, as if I’d never had that drilled into me before. “It’s building blocks. It’s an amalgamation of what you’ve learned, what we’ve taught you. The old words are there as the pieces to be put together by one fluent in the arts. It takes years to be able to use them aloud and even longer to be able to just think them. Wizards spend their whole lives training to do something you’ve accomplished in a decade.”
“You’ve said it before. That I’m not like anyone else.”
“You’re not,” Morgan said slowly. “And we’ve always believed that. You’ve proven that time and time again, in a good way. But there is a ceiling to magic, Sam. And while we’ve never known just how high your ceiling is, we’re worried that you may try and reach it before you’re ready. Or maybe you’ll find out you don’t have a ceiling at all.”
“I have it under control,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure that was the truth. The idea of not having a barrier, of having an unlimited reach of magic, scared the shit out of me. But I didn’t have time to worry about that now.
“Do you?” Randall asked. “Because from what I understand, you were unconscious following the storm you unleashed. And then again with… with Myrin.”
It was one of the few times I’d ever heard him say Myrin’s name, and that alone should have clued me in on the gravity of the situation. The problem was that I felt like a cornered animal, like they were pushing me back and towering over me. And when an animal is cornered, it does the only thing it can: it lashes out.
“I did what I had to,” I said. “Which is something neither of you would ever understand.”
And as soon as I said it, I wished I could take it back, given the way Morgan flinched, eyes tightening, mouth turning down.
Randall was as stoic as always. He gave nothing away. “You’re too emotional.”
“Because I’m human,” I snapped at him. “I can’t just shut it off. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. How else am I supposed to be? Your mistakes aren’t mine, Randall. I’m sorry. I really am. I know it sucks. Everything. The dragons, the prophecy… Myrin. But I’m not you. And no offense, but I don’t ever want to be you. You both have told me time and time again that I need to forge my own path, and yet you seem to want to direct me whatever way you want me to go. Maybe it’s not intentional. Maybe you think you’re doing what you’re doing because you know more than me. But it still feels like manipulation.”
“Do you know who else lets their emotions rule them?” Randall asked. “The Darks, Sam.”
And that—fuck him. “Go to hell,” I said hoarsely.
“Randall—” Morgan started but subsided when Randall shook his head.
“Sam,” he said. “Everything I’ve done, everything I will do, is an attempt at your best interest. I believe in Morgan and in his strength as your mentor. I believe in the bond you’ve created with your cornerstone. I believe in the power that you wield. You are wild and unrestrained but inherently good. But you are also foolhardy, stubborn, and one day, if you continue on the path you’re on, I believe you’ll unleash magic that you will not be able to come back from. I don’t see you as a Dark, Sam. But I think that with everything that has happened to you in such a short amount of time, you are in danger—now more than ever—of losing your way. I am not trying to dictate your life. I am trying to protect it.”
I laughed bitterly. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“Be that as it may, the weight of the world has come to rest on your shoulders. And I fear that it’s heavier than you realized. Maybe than even I realized.” He reached a hand up and stroked it down his beard. “You are young yet. The fact that you have the level of magic you do is remarkable. The bond you have with your cornerstone is extraordinary. The fact that you have done everything you’ve done is nothing short of miraculous. But even the strongest of us will crumble under the weight, Sam.”
“Stone crumbles,” I whispered.
“What was that?” Morgan asked.
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. So you don’t think I can hack it. That’s cool. Any other secrets I don’t know?”