"You have plenty of feeling. You have already learnt it from me. What you lack is a place to put it. Do not push the water out of your hand. Call it in. Imagine the air is full of it, and that you are only gathering what already waits."
His breath touched the side of her neck, warm and slow.
Nellie's shoulders did not move.
She kept her eyes on the pot and her breathing even, and the warmth at her back became one more thing to set aside.The mist clung to her braid. A drop ran down the inside of her wrist.
"Good," the Light said. "Now call it."
She tried.
She called the water as he had told her to, and the mist came, but too thick and too fast, and it burst on her hand in a splash that soaked her sleeve to the elbow.
Cold water ran down her wrist and dripped from her fingers. She tried again.
The arrow formed, too fat, and drooped, and fell in a puddle at her feet.
