Buried Embers: Reigning Fae Book 2 by AC Washer

Author:AC Washer [Washer, AC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781955812023
Publisher: AC Washer
Published: 2021-09-04T05:00:00+00:00

“That’s it, Kella—ye’ve got it now,” Stu said as I concentrated on using my magic to hold a bodice pattern to a cut of black lining. Apparently, cheap dress lining was the only thing Stu trusted me with. Not that I blamed him.

“But, um… now if ye could, uh, let me lift the scissors off the fabric so I can cut it.”

Shoot. I released the scissors from the plane I was magicking, just like Edon had taught me.

“Good, good. And, um, maybe don’t be holding the fabric onto the cutting table quite so hard—ye know, so I can move it enough to cut it.”

Crap.

“No, no, now yer making it float. Yer wrinkling the fabric, Kella. Kella, smooth the fabric out with yer magic. No, Kella, not like that—yer stretching it and making different wrinkles. Nope… Just—”

I dropped the magic, not wanting to touch it anyway, and stomped over to the sewing table. I slapped my hands on the fabric and ran my palms over it to get the wrinkles out. “There,” I all but growled. “It’s smooth, not stuck to the table, and ready for you to cut it. Without magic.”

Stu gave me the side-eye but wisely said nothing. Edon had no such compunction.

“This is about learning control, Kella. Not about smoothing the fabric.”

“Well, it kind of is about the fabric…” Stu trailed off when Edon shot him a glare and busied himself with cutting the cloth, using his own magic to secure the pattern, so he didn’t have to bother with pins like some magicless human.

I crossed my arms and looked away, not wanting to see how patient Edon was trying to be. It annoyed me. This was something easy—nothing like wrecking an entire shop with crazy wind magic.

Edon sighed, bringing my gaze back to him in time to see him run his hand through his dark brown hair. As if he read my mind, he said, “Just try to remember—creation is harder than destruction. Control takes more concentration than chaos.”

“But I’m not creating anything,” I bit out. “I’m just pushing my magic up against a pattern.”

Edon shook his head. “You are using magic that wants to run wild with whatever emotion you have and become destructive. You’re learning how to set parameters so that you can use it to create instead.”

“But I did that,” I swept my hand toward the black dress lining. “And I still couldn’t get the stupid cloth to not wrinkle.”

Edon sighed. “Okay, how about a break?”

I glanced at the clock that hung over the sewing room door. “It’s seven. We’ve been at this for three hours,” I said. “How about we call it a day and let Stu make some actual progress?”

Stu nodded but switched to shaking his head as soon as Edon shot him a glare.

The store bell dinged, announcing someone had entered the shop. Considering it was too early for customers, I wasn’t surprised when Muiranne swept into the sewing room, her pale-yellow eyes flashing in appreciation as her gaze landed on Stu and stuck.

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