Myke Cole - Shadow Ops - Control Point

“Here goes nothing,” Britton said. He reflected on a sad memory to help trigger the magical flow, picturing his old house. The memory intensified under the influence of his heightened senses on that side of the gate, the image of his former home as vivid as if he were standing on the sunken porch steps. He could smell his mother’s baking from the kitchen window. He could feel the tide roar into him, building along with the emotion behind the Dampener’s barrier. He reached for it as he had outside the DFAC, and it flooded him with such intensity that for a moment he feared he would be unable to control it. But in the end the Dampener kept it regulated, and the gate snapped opened mere inches from his face. It flashed closed again, reopening so close that he took a step backward. He focused on the air a few feet before him and pictured the gate opening there. His muscles cramped at his effort to stem the flow, channel it, shape it to his will. Come on, you bastard, he thought, you’re mine. Obey me.

The gate rolled open right where he had wanted it to.

Britton blinked. The shimmering portal had opened on his parents’ house. Startled, he gave the Dampener rein and let his emotions slide back into the compartment. The gate vanished, leaving him breathing heavily.

“You okay?” Therese’s voice came from the other side of the barrier. “How’d it go?”

“It worked,” Britton answered. “Just not like I expected.”

He cursed inwardly. That was it? It was as simple as mastering your emotions? If only he’d known when his father had crouched over him, fists pounding his chest. If only he’d had the Dampener then! It made it so easy. The thought that the SOC had it, could have just given it to him, to Downer, to anyone who was struggling with Latency, enraged him.

He focused his mind, conjuring up fresh in his mind the rooftop where he’d shot Downer. He focused on the air a few inches in front of his face, where he wanted the gate to appear. The gate opened about a foot back from that spot, but its television-static surface showed the charred remains of the school’s roof, the battered remnants of the helo still on its side.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Oscar, what’s going on?” Therese asked.

“I think I know,” Britton said. “Let me try one more thing.”

He focused and thrust out his hands again. That time the gate opened on his barracks room in South Burlington. It stood empty, every drawer open, every item removed. The door had been taken off its hinges. Yellow tape reading CRIME SCENE: KEEP OUT stretched across the doorway.

Britton shut the gate and blew out his breath. “Holy crap. I can go anywhere I want with this. All I have to do is picture the place.”

He heard Therese suck in her breath and turned to look. She had come around from the safety of the barricade and stood in the gaps between them, watching him. “Oh my God, Oscar. That’s amazing. What’s on the other side?”

“Anywhere.” Britton grinned through the effort of keeping the gate open. “Anywhere I want.”

Therese put her hands on her hips and cocked her head at him. “So, what are you still doing here?”

Britton instinctively jerked a hand to his chest and didn’t answer.

Stormcraft is the keystone of the Aeromantic arsenal. To properly harness it, the Sorcerer must understand the electrostatic relationship between colliding ice particles and be sensitive to the electric fields they generate in moist air. A number of elements — temperature, moisture level, particle size, and wind strength — all must be manipulated in perfect synchronicity to harness lightning to combat-effective levels. This sounds complicated, and it is, but by the time you graduate from this course, you will be able to do it while airborne, tracking multiple targets and without a second thought.

— From the introduction to Stormcraft I:

Offensive Aeromantic Maneuver

Publication of the Supernatural Operations Corps

Once he was sure of his control, Britton experimented on his own; he opened a gate on the logging trail where he’d abandoned the police car, stretched it twenty feet high, then shrank it to a one-inch box. He focused on a tiny pebble. When he opened the next gate, it split the rock precisely in half. The flow was weaker, but not by much.

Once Salamander was satisfied with Britton’s control, he was permitted to rejoin the rest of the group. Downer was animating tiny fire elementals from a lit Zippo that one of the other enrollees was holding. She grinned as the marble-sized flames danced around her feet, boiling the mud in little patches.

She smiled at Britton and Therese as they approached. “It’s amazing!” she said. “I could have practiced on my own forever and it would never have come so quickly! The Dampener makes all the difference in the world!”

Britton couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, but his stomach twisted in anger. If they’d just made that drug available, publicly, there wouldn’t be any reason for anyone ever to go Selfer.

Wavesign stood against the line of barricades along with the rest of the No-No Crew, his arms folded across his chest. He looked ridiculous to Britton, trying so earnestly to fit in with a group who wouldn’t even stand next to him for fear of getting soaked.

Tsunami approached him. Britton guessed she was a Hydromancer, as the moisture wicked away from her as soon as it touched her. She spoke to Wavesign in low tones, but he pointedly ignored her, doing his best to look aloof for the No-No Crew. Eventually, she shrugged and walked off.

“What’s his deal?” Britton asked Therese, gesturing at Wavesign.

“Severe control issues,” she said. “Salamander says it happens sometimes. Even with the Dampener, that’s the best he can do. I feel bad for him, but he makes it worse for himself by hanging with that crowd.”

“Ted!” she called to the young Hydromancer. “Come on! You need this training more than anyone. The only way out is through. Come on and work with me.”

Wavesign first tried to ignore her, then when she called him again, looked askance at the rest of the No-No Crew, who ignored him. Finally, he shook his head and walked over.

“Therese, just stop. Leave me alone, okay?” he said.

“Ted, you keep hanging around with that crowd, and you’re never going to get a handle on this.”

“As soon as I do, they’ll just jump on me to raise the flag,” he said, deliberately pitching his voice loudly enough for the crew behind him to overhear.

“Nobody can make you do that,” she said. “Being in control of your magic is one step closer to being in control of your life. Let me help you.”

“It’s not that hard,” Britton offered. “If I can figure it out, anybody can.” He opened a gate in front of them, expanded it, shrank it, then closed it again.

Wavesign’s face set, and he looked at his feet again. Britton swore internally at his mistake. This kid had been in the SASS for God knows how long and still hadn’t mastered basic control of his magic. Britton had figured it out in a couple of hours. “I’ll help, too,” he said, trying to recover, but the damage was already done. The vapor cloud surrounding the boy intensified.

Over his shoulder, the No-No Crew whispered to one another, pointing.

Therese pointed at a small patch of wet mud. “Dry it out.”

Wavesign shrugged and gestured. The mud splattered everywhere, as if it had been kicked.

“Come on,” Therese said. “You’re not even trying. Don’t show off for their sake.”

Pyre opened his mouth to shout something, but Salamander shook his head, and the young Pyromancer kept quiet.