Saida was the first one to meet Alessa’s questioning gaze, and she stepped forward. Dressed as if bright colors could banish the oppressive air of pessimism, each layer of her skirt was brighter than the last, and her eyes were highlighted with blue eyeshadow. The color coordinated perfectly with the scarf she’d tied around her hair, presumably to keep it from whipping around when she used her powers.
“We can sit, if you’d like,” Alessa said, gesturing toward the scattered pillows.
Saida pulled her shoulders back and looked Alessa directly in the eyes. “Thank you, but I prefer having room to move.”
To escape.
Working her fingers, Alessa tried to coax her blood to circulate, even though cold fingers were the least of anyone’s concerns.
In one corner, Renata watched intently, lips moving in a silent litany of “gentle, easy, careful” that matched the refrain in Alessa’s head.
Her hands were so clammy she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold on, so at Saida’s jerky nod, Alessa curved her thumb and pointer finger around Saida’s wrists like a bracelet.
Her power woke with a surge, a current racing through her, greedy, yearning for something long denied. It was too much, too fast.
Saida whimpered, and Alessa let go. She needed a second. “Thank you, Saida. I’ll come back to you. Josef?”
He’d brought a glass of water for Alessa to try and freeze and had the foresight to place it on the ground so they didn’t end up with shattered glass everywhere.
Alessa took Josef’s smooth, cool hands in hers and stared at the water glass. Nothing changed. A chill hit her breastbone, spreading toward her limbs. It might have been Josef’s gift, or merely her growing panic.
He held on longer than Saida, insisting he was fine through gritted teeth, as though afraid he’d be sick if he opened his mouth.
It was only the first day. They had time.
A little.
Not enough.
Kamaria sauntered over, carrying a candle in a metal stand. “I brought props.” Her voice was light, but the flame shook. She put it on the floor and grabbed Alessa’s hands.
Alessa couldn’t get her hands free. She was going to hurt Kamaria, or worse—
Focus. She gave herself a mental slap. Breathing deeply, she reined herself in until the greedy need abated. Then—only then—she tried to reach for the flicker of Kamaria’s power. It brushed against her mind, dancing like a flame in a breeze, but she couldn’t grasp it.
Renata had told Alessa to think of a singer—frankly, she was starting to lose track of the metaphors—but her attempts to use her power felt like straining to remember a forgotten melody or having a word at the tip of her tongue. It was there, inside her, and a part of her knew how it was supposed to go, but the more she strained, the harder it was to grab hold.
Kamaria’s grip loosened enough for Alessa to pull away, and they let out matching sighs of relief. Trembling slightly, Kamaria bowed with a flourish and a cocky grin.
The candle hadn’t done anything.
Three Fontes, no results.
Icy fingers of panic walked up Alessa’s spine. She’d been so worried about killing Fontes she’d never considered the horrible possibility of keeping them alive but being unable to channel their power.
Kaleb skulked over, looking so stiff he might snap in half if she made a sudden move. His hands were cold, and large—a ridiculous observation but the first thing she noticed before she opened her mind completely. A jolt went up her arms, and she let go with a gasp.
Kaleb bent over, clutching his hand. “Dammit, that hurt!”
“I’m sorry,” Alessa said. Lightning danced between her fingers. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Your turn, Freckles,” Kaleb sneered at Nina, who was cowering behind Josef, whispering a prayer to Dea. “Get on with it. Evil monster bugs a comin’。”
“You’re such a bully, Kaleb.” Nina lowered her hands, eyes shining with angry tears. She cried through her turn, sobs shaking them both until Alessa struggled to maintain a light touch. She didn’t even try to use Nina’s gift for warping matter. One step at a time. Nina needed reassurance before she could stand a chance of being a useful Fonte.
After one more round where “no one died” was the best anyone could say about it, Kaleb declared the session over and stalked out, glaring at anyone who dared look his way.
Alessa let him go. He might light the Cittadella on fire if she attempted a pep talk.
The others filed out behind him, but Kamaria hung back. “Can I ask you something?”