I closed the spell and tried another. Wes suddenly appeared before me, hunched over his desk, scratching away at a yellow legal pad. His handwriting was atrocious. I could barely make out the squiggles he called penmanship. A fond smile crossed my lips, then I shook my head at my foolishness. I released the magic and slumped back in the chair. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Wes. But at least I knew I hadn’t lost my talent. I was still able to scry.
I felt drained. I had tried so hard with that first spell, it seemed I’d been working for days instead of less than an hour. Had I the energy, and didn’t love my bowl so much, I would have chucked it againstthe wall in frustration. What was happening to me?
The knock at the door scared the crap out of me. I really should be used to it by now. When Wes called my name, his voice concerned, I moved as fast as possible to get to the door and release the wards.