Twenty-Eight

                                    

                                          
"All of you?" I ask, spinning around the center of the training field. Four Khiros have formed a box around me; one in each corner. Terro holds a small dust devil in his palm, Greer glares at me with droplets of water trickling from her fingertips, blades of grass slither up the legs of a Pianti soldier like adoring pets, and Kyron. They each stare at me, waiting for the moment I take control of their gifts.
"All of us," Kyron answers, opening his hand. A ball of flame appears and rolls from his palm to the back of his hand, following the sway of his wrist.
For the past two weeks, all I've done is train, eat, sleep, and train some more. The practice sessions at the river soon moved to nearby fields and included others with different gifts. I've manipulated tree branches and created weapons of ice. Blinding lights, rushing water, gusting winds—there isn't a gift I haven't controlled. My training has left me with no room for complaints; my power is stronger, surer, and I'm another step closer to my goal.
I crack my knuckles and lift my hands, and everyone's power trembles with excitement. The earth in Terro's palms is the first to come when I summon it with a curl of my finger. Its pointed tip bounces on the ground as it skips to me. I motion for the tiny twister to spin faster; it picks up more dirt and grows. Terro huffs in mild frustration as I wield his gift in a way he cannot, and I don't hide my smile.
"Another, Raelle," Kyron orders.
I worried for a slight moment that Kyron would dismiss me, leaving me to figure this all out on my own after what happened at the river. He respected my decision, and within minutes, he returned to teaching me. For the last couple of days, he has pushed me hard, urging me to command two gifts at once and build my endurance. The only thing that has changed is the flirtatious banter and stolen touches. We placed a divide between us; one that doesn't allow us to entertain anything beyond friendship. I hate the chasm and miss toeing the line of possibilities with him. 
Calling forth the blades of grass, I will them to grow to unnatural heights. They do as I command, and I push the spinning earth toward them. The twister pulls the blades up by the roots and the greenery stretches through the speeding dirt, slicing the air.
"Good, and another."
Biting down on my lip, I hold my new creation in place and reach for Greer's water. My arm trembles as I pull it toward me, leaving my friend empty-handed. The water slithers just above the ground, following my directions to go to Kyron. This is the first time I've worked three gifts at once and it's harder than I thought it would be—my muscles ache, chest constricts, and every inhale burns my throat.
Kyron nods, and I tug on his fire. Nothing.
"Come on," I say through gritted teeth and pull again. His power has always been so willing to obey my command, almost like it would betray him and become my own. I reach for it again, but it holds steady like a belligerent child. Pulling as hard as I can, I thrust my hand forward, taking with it the puddle. The water soars straight up, blasting Kyron in the face and extinguishing his flame.
The general sputters, his hand still acting as if it's cradling his flame and streams of water falling from his hair.
I lose my grip on the other two powers and they snap back to their owners.
Kyron runs his hand over his face, raking off the water and combing his hair back. "You did well until you got frustrated."
"I don't think I can command more than two. The water was hardly moving."
Greer approaches and claps me on the shoulder. "You will get there."
"And just think of it this way, you got Kyron wet," Terro says, wiggling his eyebrows.