Аманда Хокинг - Torn

“No. But I’m the best suited to train you,” he said and started rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Why?” I asked, and I could see Duncan wearing the same dubious expression I did.

“You’re too powerful for everyone else. They wouldn’t be able to help you tap into your potential because they don’t understand it the way I do.” He’d finished rolling up his sleeves and put his hands on hips. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” I shrugged. I didn’t really understand what I needed to be ready for.

“Move this stuff.” He gestured vaguely to the mess around the room.

“You mean with my mind?” I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”

“Have you tried?” Tove countered, his eyes sparkling.

“Well… no,” I admitted.

“Do it.”

“How?”

“Figure it out,” he shrugged.

“You’re really good at this training thing,” I sighed.

Tove laughed, but I did as I was told. I decided to start small, so I picked a broken chair nearby. I stared at in concentration. The only thing I knew how to use was persuasion, so I thought I’d go that way. In my mind, I repeated, I want the chair to move, I want“Nope!” Tove said, snapping me out of it. “You’re thinking about it wrong.”

“How am I supposed to think about it?”

“It’s not a person. You can’t tell it what to do. You have to move it,” Tove said, as if that clarified anything.

“How?” I asked again, but he didn’t say anything. “It’d be easier if you told me.”

“I can’t tell you. That’s not how it works.”

I grumbled a few unseemly remarks under my breath when I turned to the chair, preparing to get down to business.

So I couldn’t tell the chair to move. I had to move it. How does that translate to thought? I squinted, hoping that might help somehow, and repeated, Move the chair, move the chair.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Tove said.

I didn’t think anything at all had happened, and then I saw Duncan walking towards the chair.

“Duncan, what are you doing?” I asked.

“I, uh… moving the chair. I guess.” He seemed confused but coherent, and once he picked up the chair, he gave me an even more bewildered look. “I don’t know where to, though.”

“Set it anywhere,” I told him absently and turned to Tove. “I did that?”

“Of course you did that. I could hear you chanting loud and clear, and if you’d harnessed it better, I’d be the one picking up the chair.” He crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a look that bordered on disapproving.

“I didn’t try to do that. I wasn’t even looking at him.”

“That makes it even worse, doesn’t it?” Tove asked honestly.

“I don’t understand,” Duncan said. He’d set down the chair, and now free of his duty, walked over to us. “What are you expecting her to do?”

“You need to control your energy before someone gets hurt.” Tove looked at me solemnly, his mossy eyes bravely meeting mine for almost a minute before he turned away. He gestured around his head, much in the same way Loki had when he explained how he knew I had persuasion. “You have so much going on. It comes off like a…”

“Static?” I suggested.

“Exactly!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “You need to tune it, get your frequencies in check, like a radio.”

“I would love to. Just tell me how!”

“It’s not a matter of turning a dial. You have no on or off switch.” He walked around, in a large lazy circle. “It’s something you have to practice. It’s more like being potty-trained. You have to learn when to hold it and when to release.”

“That’s a pretty sexy analogy,” I said.

“You can move the chair.” Tove stopped suddenly. “But that can wait. You need to learn to rein in your persuasion.” He looked at Duncan. “Duncan, you don’t mind being experimented on, do you?”

“Um… I guess not?” Duncan didn’t really know how else to answer. As my tracker, I’m not even sure he could answer differently.

“Tell him to do something. Anything.” He tilted his head, still watching Duncan, then turned to me. “But make sure I can’t hear.”

“How? I don’t even know how you are hearing,” I pointed out.

“Focus. You have to focus your energy. It’s imperative.”

“How?” I repeated.

He kept telling me to do things without giving me any clue how. He might as well have been telling me to build a damn rocket ship. I had no idea what to do.

“You were more focused when you were around Finn,” Tove said. “You were more grounded, in the way electricity is grounded.”

“Well, he’s not here,” I snapped.

“It doesn’t matter. He didn’t do anything,” Tove continued, unfazed. “You’re the one with the power. You grounded yourself around him. You tell me how.”

I didn’t want to think about Finn or the way I had been around him. I had been excited for this training so it would distract me from thoughts of him. Now Tove was telling me that Finn was the key to my success. Perfect.

Instead of yelling at Tove, I walked away. I hated the way he seemed to know everything, but lacked the ability to articulate anything. I stretched my arms and rolled my neck, working out the tension. Duncan started to say something, but Tove shushed him.

Finn. When I was around Finn, what did I do differently? He made me crazy. He made my heart beat too fast and my stomach swirl, and it was hard to take my eyes off him. Whenever he was around, I’d hardly been able to think of anything.

And that was it. It was almost too simple.

When Finn was around, my focus had been on him. That restrained my energy somehow. If my conscious mind focused on something, the rest of my mind would pull itself in. Maybe my energy was going crazy now because I was trying not to think of Finn.

Finn wasn’t the key. But when he’d been around, I had let my mind focus. When he wasn’t, I tried not to think of anything, because everything reminded me of him.

Everything scattered all over, latching onto anything it could.

I closed my eyes. Think of something. Focus on anything.

Finn came to my mind first, the way he always did, but I pushed him away. I could think of something else. The first thing I thought of after him was Loki, and that shocked me, so I discounted him instantly. I didn’t want to focus on him. Or anyone, for that matter.

I thought of the garden behind the palace. It was gorgeous, and I loved it. Elora had painted a beautiful picture of it, but it didn’t really do the place justice. I remembered the way the flowers smelled, and the way the grass felt cool on my bare feet. Butterflies had flown about, and I could hear the stream babbling past me.

“Try it now,” Tove suggested.

I turned to look at Duncan. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, and he gulped, as if he was afraid I might slap him. Keeping the image of the garden in my mind, I started repeating, Whistle Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. It seemed mundane, but that was the point. I didn’t want to hurt him.

His face relaxed, his eyes went blank, and then he started whistling. Feeling pleased with myself, I looked over at Tove.

“Well?” I asked hopefully.

“I didn’t hear it,” Tove smiled. “Excellent work.”

I continued trying things out on Duncan the rest of the day. After the first few didn’t turn out painful, Duncan became more at ease with the whole thing. He was a terrific sport about it, considering I made him whistle, dance, clap, and do a whole number of silly things.

Tove went on to explain what had gone wrong with Rhys and his inability to sit.

The more focus and intensity I use when trying to persuade people, the more permanent the command becomes.