Free The Dig by Audrey Hart

It‘s the prettiest one I‘ve seen today, almost pearl blue. I don‘t close my eyes this time. I just ask the rock to transform into what it‘s meant to be, a heart.

    It‘s the first time I actually see my powers in action since the havoc in the town square. It‘s as if a million tiny invisible jackhammers are at work as the rock splinters. Then, lightning fast, invisible stonemasons begin shaving and sanding the edges so that they‘re round. At last, their work is done. I pick up the heart.

    It‘s absolutely perfect. This one I won‘t break, I tell myself, and I tuck it into my pocket, next to the obolus.

    I should be content with my progress and take a break from my powers, but that‘s the problem with success. It makes you want to keep going, to try even harder things.

    And why should this pretty little heart be hidden away in my pocket anyway? It‘s like a charm. What‘s a charm without a necklace on which to hang? And really, if I can make rocks explode, if I can make a huge wall surge up from the center of the earth, well, why not try for a little hunk of silver? I‘m not trying to get rich or anything; I just need a tiny little block of silver to meld into a single strand. No big whoop, right?

    As Julia Roberts says in Pretty Woman , ―Big mistake. Big. Huge.‖

Chapter 12
    I‘m trapped.

    I try to move but nothing happens. Even my fingers are stuck. My entire body is pinned beneath a heavy blanket of damp, caked soil. I can‘t open my eyes because the dirt has plastered my eyelashes to my cheeks.

    Obviously I can‘t open my mouth to scream for help.

    Not that there‘s anyone around to help me.

    Imagine, seconds ago, I was starting to believe that I really might be some kind of powerful goddess, and now I‘m trapped underground, breathing through my nose and quivering like a felled fawn. Too panicked to focus and unsure if the trickling sound I hear in my ears is the approach of, heaven forbid, worms , I know that I have no one to blame but myself for my inevitable death.

    I never should have believed that I was a superhero or anything like that. After all, I don‘t even know where my powers come from, and what kind of a superhero doesn‘t know her own origin story? Superman didn‘t just wake up one day in a magical unitard, and Catwoman isn‘t just some girl who got dressed up as a cute cat one Halloween and realized she would always land on her feet. I can‘t control these powers if I don‘t know why I have them! I start to cry and then the fear hits me again and I part my lips and yell into the dirt.

    The sound disappears into the soil, hollowing out a tiny hole before a pile of loosened dirt falls back into my mouth. I gag with disgust. I‘m not trying that again, I tell myself—only to realize seconds later that it could be my way out. If I was able to push the dirt with the force of a scream, imagine what I can do if I purse my lips and blow.

    I exhale a stream of air between my lips, and a handful of dirt loosens and blows aside. I‘ve carved out enough room so that I can almost move my neck…but for all I know, I‘m under hundreds of feet of soil. At this rate it could take me days to dig my way out, maybe even weeks.
    Oh god, where is Creusa? Where is anyone ? I‘ll never get out of here on my own!

    The panic sets in again, and the particles of dirt begin a slow landslide back onto my face.
    Think , Zoe.

    Okay. When I first conjured the silver to come up, I was immediately blown back by a huge black wall of dirt. So all this earth trapping me now was summoned byme alone. No one else did it. Which means…I don‘t need anyone else to get rid of it for me. If I have the power to do it, then I should have the equal power to un do it.

    I imagine that I have giant lungs, and I take a deep breath and blow as hard as I can, ignoring the specks of dirt trickling into my mouth. There is a rush of sound like a car passing way too fast on the highway and then a loud, jarring