Good because that was the only one I knew how to make. Rather than waste time on explaining the plan again, I just performed the spell. “Tareero Tamida loaf.”
One the size of her entire plate appeared, causing her eyes to widen.
“That’s huge,” she gasped out.
“Yeah. Because I didn’t control the size with my wand.” Not exactly true. Children could perform this kind of magic in their sleep and still make an appropriate loaf, but I wanted to exaggerate the results for teaching purposes.
Hey, look at me living up to my headmaster role, I thought sourly.
Wouldn’t King Malik be so proud?
Arrogant fuck.
Clearing my throat, I pushed the negative thoughts away and refocused. “Using the conduit, you can control the magical outcome.” I picked up my wand and performed the spell again, this time creating a perfectly proportioned loaf. Then I muttered a cleanup spell that dissolved all the food on the table—including the items we’d picked up from the chef—and said, “You try.”
She considered for a moment, then nodded. “All right.” Taking her wand out of her cloak, she gave it a little wave while saying, “Tareero Tamida sandwich.”
Nothing.
Not even a twitch of magic.
I leaned back in my chair and watched as she tried again.
And again.
And again.
All without any kind of result or a single hint of feeling.
After her tenth go at it, she huffed, “This isn’t working.”
“Clearly.”
She stared at me, waiting.
If she expected me to give her more directions, then she had another think coming. I already explained how the process worked. If she couldn’t figure out how to apply it, that was on her, not me. Besides, I shouldn’t even be here.
“Is my wand broken?” she asked, holding out the magical conduit.
I didn’t even look at it. “No.” Because it’s not about the wand, I added to myself. She needed to figure that out on her own. Magic came from the blood. I couldn’t really help her find the link. She needed to do that herself.
“Well, that’s helpful,” she muttered, putting away her wand. “Could you at least explain how I make it work?” she asked slowly as if speaking to an idiot.
I answered her in the same tone with, “You access your magic.”
“Right. How?”
“How do you call on your earth essence?” I countered.
“It’s a natural connection through my soul.”
“Then there you go,” I replied. “Class dismissed.”
She pointed to the collar at her neck. “I think you’re forgetting this.”
“You’re letting a necklace hold you back? How disappointing.” It only blocked her earth magic, not her access to the dark arts. I could admit that out loud, but that would belittle this exercise.
“Holding me back?” she repeated. “It cut me off from my gifts!”