A fine line appears between Patricia’s brows. “Thank you for sharing how all of this is making you feel. You’re right. I owe you more than what I’ve said. Please, sit.”

Whiplash. “Just like that, you changed your mind?”

A smile tugs at her lips. “I find that, in my field, emotional agility comes with the territory.”

My breath comes in shallow pants. My fists refuse to unclench. But I sit.

“Do you know what auras are?”

A vision of the red mage flame washes over me in a hot rush. Was that an aura? Was it not mage flame at all? Patricia’s attention sharpens on my face, but before she can ask a follow-up, I wave a hand in a vague circle around my head. “Colors around people?”

“Mostly right. Auras are your personal energy, reflecting the state of your spirit.”

“What do they look like?”

“From what I understand, they look like a faint sort of fog or thin mist.”

That mage flame had roared up my skin, all fire and anger and blood. Not an aura, then.

“While an undergraduate here, I had a friend named Janice who was a Reader, someone whose branch of Rootcraft allowed her to see people’s auras. Emotions, intentions, abilities. One day Janice saw me and your mother talking outside class and later, Janice told me that your mother knew the craft. So I asked your mother to practice and fellowship together. She was very polite, but she declined. She seemed so uncomfortable by my offer that I never mentioned it again. I wasn’t offended. I thought maybe she had her own community. We tend to keep the craft private, but I thought, perhaps, she kept to a stricter code; rootcraft is taught within families, and different families have different approaches. Still, I am surprised that your mother never told you what she could do.”

There’s no air in my chest. Where is all the air? My mind is blanking, shutting down.

“Bree?” Patricia leans forward into my field of vision. “Take some deep breaths. Close your eyes and think of something or someone that made you feel safe in the last twenty-four hours.”

I follow her instructions—and my mind travels to eyes, storm dark and blue.

It takes a few breaths before I open my eyes again. The panic is still there, but it has trouble taking hold.