Chapter Twenty-Four

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Emma's tongue poked out as she concentrated on the bowl of dirt in front of us. A dark lump shifted as the humped back of a bean sprout reared from the humus. The effort of maintaining its growth brought a flush to Emma's cheeks, but she kept at it until the plant had spread its first and second leaves. She broke off and fell over onto her back.

"It is grower's earth magic," said Chal in amazement. "But where in Ōmeteōtl's name did you get it?"

"Is it weird?" said Emma from the floor.

Chal touched the plant, then turned over each of its leaves on her fingertips. "Xipe has some. He's the only one of us who does, though."

Emma's forehead bunched up. "Could it be from... what's her name? Who sent me down."

"Cihua? No. She had a little, but not this type."

Day four, still here. We were all sitting together on the carpet of the reading room, a well-lit, plant-filled nook at the back of the house. There were comfy chairs around us, but the only one using them was a sleeping Huitecoya. Jem had occupied a full quarter of the floor with an array of plant sprigs he was busily arranging. What metric he was arranging them by, I couldn't even hazard a guess at. Emma had taken over the opposite corner and dotted the carpet with vegetables.

The puzzle of Emma's powers had only intensified over the course of the morning. She exhibited two types of magic, possibly three: her original ice type, a potent earth magic that came with the spellcasting ability she had used to make our tattoos, and potentially the ability to pass magic to Jem. Chal had started out most interested in the earth magic, after learning the range of plant matter Emma could summon. Grower's earth magic gives life, and it takes life away, the goddess had said. She had alluded that at full power, Emma might have control over life and death of things other than plants, which definitely didn't put my mind at ease.

The two had then switched their attention to the spellcasting component of the earth magic, a separate but linked ability. Chal had tried to get it to manifest—the electrical webbing I'd seen her, Tezcat, Coyol, and their mother Cōātlīcue all handle—with no success so far. She said the colour might give a clue about where Emma had picked it up, which could in turn help unlock its full power. I glanced at Emma, who was still sprawled on the floor. She was too transparent to be hiding anything. She really didn't know how she'd called in her spellcasting to save Jem and I from Fuego, and she had not been able to summon even a fraction of it since. Chal said it had something to do with memories. I hadn't really paid attention.

Chal, meanwhile, had decided to start me on my Fuego-wrangling before I got the full seal. Apparently there was no difference in the danger level between now and then, a statement I distrusted immediately, but which didn't end up mattering anyway. I had a variety of items in front of me: kindling, a candle, a mug of water, several types of seeds, a pebble, a knotted piece of dyed thread, and an arrowhead, among others. Chal had told me to get to know each of them and see if any drew me. The only result of a morning of this was an intimate knowledge of how to use each as a fiddly toy. My still-burned fingertips were sore, and I was ready to do anything else.

"No luck?"

Chal had come to check in on me. She had made it clear that a Fuego relapse was not something I had to worry about, but that only made me less motivated to do anything more with the magic. I wanted a seal, not magic powers.

I tucked my fingertips into the ball of my fist and poked the pebble on the floor. "No. What am I supposed to be looking for?"

The goddess sat down. "Not 'looking for'; feeling. Like it calls you. Like you can do something with it, even if you don't know what. You remember how Itztia said she felt when she touched that pot?"

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