It hadn’t been the stones.

Two days of exhausting effort proved it; Grey had taken Jacob back to that fateful spot and urged him to conjure up that same power again, to no avail. Attempts with him sitting, standing, lying on his back or on his belly were all fruitless, as were any conjurations tried when he was in physical contact with the lintel stones. Grey even had him try while pressing a hand against every one of the three “just in case you tapped out the first one with your attack”, but nothing gave Jacob that same sense of barely controlled power.

He concluded that it had been Harry’s death, and the overwhelming emotional impact of losing his only true friend that triggered his outburst, and that short of another wrenching experience he could not repeat it. Grey tried to convince him that there were other things left to try.

“Maybe it was the time of day, or the alignment of the sun. If it’s the phase of the moon we’d be out of luck for a month but at least it’d be something to work on,” he offered.

“It might as well have been something I ate,” Jacob barked, “for all the good it’s doing. I can’t explain it, and I can’t do it any more. It’s hopeless.”

Grey put his arm around Jacob’s shoulders. “I know it’s hard,” he said, “but you’re the only one who’s had any success performing magic without a staff at all. That alone would be remarkable, but that you took down one of those things single-handed when no-one else could get close is a miracle.”

Harry needed a miracle, Jacob thought, but he never got it.

“Come on, let’s try one more time,” Grey offered, leading Jacob back to the stone he’d sheltered behind that day. “Kneel again, as you did before.”

Jacob fought back the sadness that rose in him as he remembered the last time he’d been in that position. As he did so, he sensed something else building inside himself.

“This will be rough, Jacob,” Grey said. “But it might be the key. So far we’ve stayed away from the difference between today and that day - your emotions. I know you keep things bottled up, but today I want you to let it out. No-one’s here,” he said, gesturing around them at the vacant monument.

While they had stepped up the patrols around the stones after the attack, no-one had come within a hundred yards of them all day. Whether they were keeping their distance because of orders from Grey or because of a fear of Jacob was unclear. Jacob didn’t much care either way, as long as they kept away. He was sick of their pity.

“Think back,” Grey whispered. “Remember that day.”

Jacob fought the surge of memory, resisted the urge to wallow in the grief he’d been keeping at bay for two days by drinking alone.

“Remember the sounds, the smells, what it was like to be there,” Grey continued.

Unbidden the iron-rich scent of blood rose in Jacob’s nostrils, just for a moment before it was gone. As if that unlocked the floodgates other scents returned to him: the smoke that rose from the campfires outside the stone circles mingled with the smoke from Harry’s burned shirt; the stink of burnt flesh, nauseating but sweet; the ozone smell of lightning bolts fired at their foes. Jacob heard the sounds too, the cries of the wounded, the yells of the men trying to coordinate the defence, even the indecipherable incantations of the fae, previously silent.

The words danced on the edge of comprehension, a whisper overheard but not understood. A sense of their meaning always just slipping from his grasp, taunting him as it slid away. A chorus of overlapping voices chanting different words, a meaningless babble that promised a wondrous secret, if he could only…

“Now think of the sights,” Grey said, breaking Jacob’s concentration.

The fury rose in him again, he’d been so close to hearing it! Anger flashed through his mind and a red mist rose over his eyes. Leave me alone! he thought and felt a tremor run through the earth beneath him. This distracted Jacob long enough to interrupt his anger, and he realised he had his fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes screwed up so tight he saw stars. He forced himself to relax, muscles protesting as they loosened, and opened his eyes.

Grey lay flat on his back twenty yards away. As Jacob stared in disbelief, it relieved him to see Grey push himself up on his elbows and look back. Without conscious will, Jacob had thrown him half-way across the circle. It was fortunate he hadn’t hit one of the stones.

Jacob tried to stand, to check he hadn’t injured the other man, but again his legs did not support him. He had to kneel there, head spinning, while Grey picked himself up and walked back over to him, favouring his left ankle.

“That’s the spirit!” Grey croaked, trying to beat the chalk dust out of his clothes. “I think we might have something there…”

Jacob nodded. He was getting a feel for what had happened, the shape of the magic he was tapping in too. It wasn’t the same as the spells they used the staffs to control; it was something more primal, more primitive.

More powerful and more terrifying.

The next difficulty lay in attempting to train the rest of the men to tap into the same energies as Jacob had used. The principal problem lay in explaining how it worked, how to access the power was outside anyone’s experience to that point.

All Jacob’s attempts to describe the sensation, or to guide the men through turning their own anger and fear into energy were fruitless, and he began to despair again. It was Grey who had the idea of literally sharing the experience.

“Try it on me, first,” Grey suggested. “If it works, we can then each take a man and show him, and then they can show two more apiece. With luck we can have most of the battalion inducted by dinner!”

With little confidence, Jacob agreed. He and Grey sat cross-legged on the ground facing one another among the stones, with the others stood or sat around them at a safe distance. Jacob laid his hands on top of Grey’s, and both men closed their eyes. Jacob probed his emotions again, allowing a fraction of the feelings he had long been suppressing to rise and spark the fires of the newfound magical energy deep within him. He nurtured the small flame at his core, fed it just a touch of his anger at Harry’s death and the deaths in the war, a little of his guilt at not being able to save his friend, a shade of his fear of meeting the same fate. With each little trickle of emotion the flame grew larger, stronger. He tested it, allowing larger jolts of emotion to surge through him and seeing the energy pulse in sympathy. He controlled his breathing, slowing it and allowing his anger to subside and sensing the energy diminish. Confident that his control was secure, he opened his eyes and looked at Grey.

“Did you feel anything?” he asked quietly.

Grey was silent for a moment, then nodded, his eyes still closed. “Yes,” he said, “I think so.”

Jacob turned his attention inwards and stoked the flame a little more, enlarging it and allowing it to fill him from head to toe while keeping it under control.

“Yes, definitely now,” Grey said. “I think I understand. Can you pass some of it to me?”

I don’t know, Jacob thought, but what the hell, let’s try it. He separated a small part of the energy and willed it out through his arms, through his hands and into Grey’s. Unsure how to prevent it surging out as lightning or fire, he pictured it in his mind’s eye as a small ball of light. He sensed a flicker of energy pass between them as he did so, and a hushed gasp from some of the men confirmed they’d seen it too.

“I have it!” Grey breathed. “It’s, it’s beautiful!” He sounded close to tears. “Take it back,” he added, and Jacob felt the energy return and merge with his own once more. Now what do I do with it? he thought. He gave consideration to shooting it up in the sky or down into the earth before he had a better idea. It had come from inside him, so why shouldn’t it be able to go back again? He concentrated on shrinking the ball of energy within, letting its power diffuse throughout his own body. Before long he had reabsorbed it and relaxed.

The two men sat smiling at one another, Jacob noting he hadn’t exhausted himself this time. Presumably only spending the energy cost him, not manifesting it. That was a relief, as was the fact he’d not had to relive the entire horror of Harry’s death to release the power.

Grey then said he would try on his own, to see if he had it. Jacob stood and moved back to be out of range if Grey lost control as he had. He realised the dull ache always present in his shoulder had eased.

His eyes closed, Grey sat in silence for a few moments before his brow furrowed and he grunted in annoyance. He looked at Jacob. “It’s not working,” he said.

“Try remembering something dreadful,” Jacob suggested. “I find anger or… well, anger works to get it started.”

Grey nodded. Closing his eyes he shook out his arms, re-set his shoulders and tried again. His expression changed, anger with a touch of sadness creeping across his face. His breathing quickened, his fists clenched, but then a slow smile replaced the anger, and a gentle glow emanated from his skin. Grey’s eyes snapped open, and he pointed an arm at a stand of trees over half a mile away.

“Stand back, lads,” he called, and then a jet of flame surged from his fingertips towards the nearest tree. It flashed into flame and exploded as the sap boiled inside the trunk. Grey sagged at the sudden release of energy, then sat up straight once more.

An awed silence fell over the assembled men. Then “bloody hell,” a voice murmured, and laughter followed.

After that, no-one could wait to have their turn. Grey and Jacob soon discovered that not everyone could marshall the energy, and some could not even sense it in others. After separating out those who could, Jacob concentrated on the most promising individuals. Once they’d showed their new ability they took their turn showing the next men. The more he practised, the more Jacob became able to call on the latent energies within himself without a trigger of intense emotions, something he passed on to the others who were able.

By the time the bell rang for the evening meal, everyone in their battalion who had the ‘talent’ could call up, use and dismiss their newfound powers at will. They were in a boisterous mood as they assembled for dinner, and most went back for second helpings to replenish the energy they’d burned off that afternoon.