Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
As the days of summer drag on, I realize that I’m happy.
Not content, not just neutral, but real, down in the gut happy.
Now that Flint has given me some answers, I’m nearing the end of my first draft — a feat I never thought I’d surmount.
Betsy, Gods love her, has been much more tight-lipped, telling me I’ll “understand when the time is right”, whatever that means.
Knowing Betsy, she’s being cryptic just for the sake of being cryptic.
Part of me had hoped, somewhat desperately, that finding out I was Fae, that I have magick, although no powers yet to speak of…
well, I had hoped it would bring my memories back and fill in those blanks.
Who I was, who I am. Who am I supposed to be?
But as the weeks have gone by and no further information has made itself known, I’ve lost the hope of that.
Even Flint has stopped talking about Goira or answering my questions about whether or not he knew me before all the time I lost.
The only thing Flint has been forthcoming with lately is training. Now that I have access to magick, he has been training me in all sorts of fun ways.
He has taught me to trigger the healing in my own body (mostly in hopes that I would stop losing things, but alas, even magick isn’t enough to compete with my ADHD). I can easily water the plants, and I’ve managed to keep a houseplant alive for the first time in years.
One of the first things he taught me was how to manipulate the air and the water molecules within the air to create a sight shield for Calida, which means that she and I are able to spend more time together outside.
I’ve learned that magick and power are two different things.
When Flint says magick, he’s referring to the ability to touch the elements, to work with the world around me.
Power is specific to me, although he says he isn’t sure how my power will manifest. The only comparison I can draw in my tiny ADHD brain is the X-Men and I really hope I get a bad-ass power.
Oooooh, lightning. Lightning would be cool.
Oh — shadows! How awesome would that be?
I think I would make a totally bad-ass Shadow Mommy.
However, up until now, I’ve been completely unsuccessful in producing even a spark of fire. Flint has tried everything he can think of, but I think I’m intimidated by it so I’m blocking myself. Which is how I find myself in my current predicament, in the woods. With an audience.
Betsy has a cane of all things planted in the dirt, like some Golden Girl commander preparing for battle.
“Again,” she orders. “Focus. Breathe in. Claim it.”
I stand stiffly in front of a neat stack of tinder, balanced on a wide, flat stone, shaped like an altar.
My palms are sweating and my shoulders feel like they have boulders in them.
“You say that like it’s fucking easy, Bits.
Clearly, it’s not. If this were a movie, I’d wave my hand and — poof — instant bonfire. ”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you that fiction is different than real life.
Otherwise I’d be in a why choose relationship with a bunch of hot hockey hunks.
” She giggles. “Now focus, pumpkin. It’s all about will.
The world will bend for those who do not doubt their right to command it, for those who give back. Now. Again.”
“Come on, Cas!” Annemarie sits cross-legged nearby, trying to twirl a dagger that I think she “borrowed” from Flint’s gear at the apartment. “You’ve got this! Channel that inner flamethrower! Don’t imagine a spark. Imagine Brett’s smug fucking face.”
I shoot her a look and can feel my eyebrows almost meeting my hairline. “That’s not exactly soothing.”
“Who said anything about being soothing? Rage is hot.” She winks at me, then tosses an apple up to Calida, who’s stretched luxuriously along a tree branch.
‘She’s too stiff,’ the dragon purrs into our heads. I’m not sure when she added Annemarie to this weird mental group-chat, but apparently she did because Anne nods emphatically.
“Exactly!”
‘Fire likes freedom. Maybe you should practice on something smaller. Like Annemarie’s apple?’
Annemarie clutches her own apple to her breasts, protectively. “Absolutely not! This apple has done nothing to deserve immolation!”
“This is ridiculous! I can’t just… decide to make fire shoot out of my hands!”
“Not with that attitude, you can’t.” Betsy chides.
“Don’t think of it as ridiculous! Think of it as… the world’s most badass party trick!” She gestures with her own hands, almost bobbling the dagger. “No one forgets the girl who can flambé an entire buffet without touching it.”
“Not helpful, Anne!”
Betsy raps that completely unnecessary cane against the stone. “Focus. Both of you. Casie, you aren’t trying to imagine fire. You’re trying to command it. To… ask it to dance with you. It doesn’t care if you can see it in your head. It cares if you believe you have the right to summon it.”
My jaw clenches. “I don’t feel anything.”
“Then stop wanting to feel. You’ve spent entirely too long being cautious or doing what you think you should be. Right now, you’re in control. You have the power. Now stand up straight and try again.”
I heave a weary sigh, fists balled at my sides. The air feels heavy, charged, but it’s just Betsy’s scolding and my audience’s commentary filling the clearing.
Obviously.
Calida flicks her tail lazily. ‘You’re sulking. Do something… dramatic.’
I snort.
‘Taylor would be disappointed in you.’
“Shut up, lizard.” I mutter.
‘Drag-on.’
Annemarie snorts. “She’s right, though. You’re treating this like… detention. Or a shitty first date. Where’s the girl that survived Brett’s bullshit these last few months? She took care of herself. She went for it.” She gestures to the tinder. “So go for it.”
My cheeks flame hotter than it would if I actually managed to set it on fire. “That was different.”
“Why?” Betsy demands sharply, eyes gleaming.
“Because he–” I stop. “It wasn’t like I had a choice.”
“Exactly. You didn’t think. You acted. Magick isn’t necessarily about thinking. It’s about claiming. You are powerful. Now…”
For a long moment, silence presses down like another presence in the clearing.
I look from the tinder to Betsy, to Annemarie’s smirking face, Calida’s glittering eyes. She holds my gaze before rearranging on her branch.
No, not rearranging.
She’s trying to show me her bracelet.
Fuck. Fine.
I shove my hand in the direction of the wood, more in frustration than belief.
The wood doesn’t catch but a crackle shimmers across my palm, like the ghost of a flame trying to be born. A faint spark that leaps, dances once, and vanishes.
Betsy smiles, small, sharp. “Better. Again.”
Annemarie whoops, tossing the half eaten apple into the air. “Did you see that?! Bitch, you got a spark! Bad guys beware!”
‘If she doesn’t incinerate herself, or us, first,’ Calida drawls.
I groan, hiding my face in my hands. “I hate you all.”
That fucking cane taps again. Merciless. “You’ll thank us when you can set all your enemies aflame without lifting a finger. Again.”
I exhale, square my shoulders, and raise my hand again.
For just an instant, another spark snaps across my palm — real, sharp, electric. But instead of leaping to the tinder, it shoots sideways.
Straight into the hem of Betsy’s skirts.
The fabric goes up with a hungry hiss.
“Shit!” I lunge forward, slapping uselessly at the flame.
Annemarie is doubled over laughing, nearly choking. “Oh my gods — Cas, you just set your fairy godmother on fire!”
‘Promising,’ Calida adds, drily. ‘Aim could use some work.’ There’s a long pause. ‘I feel like it has to be said — no one gets to give me shit about the bookstore fire. Ever. Again.’
Betsy, calm as ever, mutters an incantation and the flame dies, a small trail of smoke curling toward the sky. She levels her gaze on me.
"…sorry?”
Annemarie is wiping tears from her eyes. “Literally the best training session ever.”
Betsy’s lips twitch, like she’s biting back a smile. “At least it proves you have the power. This time, aim for the tinder. Again.”
I can feel the heat in my face, hotter than any spark I’ve managed so far, and prepare to try again.
It’s not too much later when Flint shows up. I’ve managed to make the wood smoke, but have yet to actually catch it on fire. But, I also haven’t set Betsy on fire again which, sorry, is definitely a win in my book.
I notice Flint and Betsy exchanging a look and decide to ignore it. Probably just a “difficult student, lost cause” eye lock and I know, okay? I’m fucking trying.
It’s not like setting Betsy on fire helped me feel any more comfortable with wielding fire.
“Again.” Betsy doesn’t even bother looking at me this time, keeping her eyes on Flint.
I roll my own and stick my tongue out at her back.
Okay… maybe I am just a difficult student.
I close my eyes and take some deep breaths. I reach for the shimmering power within me and let it flood my body. Then, I feel something else.
Heat. There’s heat. Not burning, but a simmering heat that I can feel swamping my senses, filling my veins the way my power does.
I reach out with my mind, trying to find the source.
My eyes fly open as I realize that the heat is coming from the direction of Flint.
Is this his power? Am I draining him somehow?
Before I can open my mouth to ask, the heat flares brighter and I have to release it, somehow.
I throw my hands out, and the wood erupts into flame. They leap high, higher than is safe. Betsy and Flint whirl around to the sudden tower of flame. Flint reaches out, and the flames become manageable.
“What the fuck?” I manage to squeak. How did I go from not being able to do much more than a sparkler on Independence Day to creating a giant fireball?
Flint smiles. “That’s impressive progress.” He kisses my cheek. “I guess Betsy is the superior teacher here.”
Betsy’s watching the flames, a line between her brows. “I don’t think it was me.”
“It was and it wasn’t. I mean, yeah, you’re a great teacher, Bits. But there was something else here. Maybe there still is.” I start to reach for the power again, but Flint stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
Before he can say anything, Betsy does. “What did you feel?”
“I don’t know. It felt like heat. It didn’t burn me, obviously, but I knew it was there. Maybe that’s how fire feels?” I can tell by the look on her face that’s not the case. I probably should have suspected as much — none of the other elements had had that effect on me.
“It means it’s time for a break.” I catch the look that passes between Bits and Flint, but the tone in her voice has an alarm bell going off in my head.
Before I can press the matter, Flint notices Annemarie. “Is that my dagger?”
He takes a step towards her while she grabs my arm and tugs me to the trail that will lead us out of the clearing. “Com’on, Cas! Let’s get home. Light’s fading and all that.”
Annemarie drags Ash off before I can get a better look at the weapon that I know damn well she liberated from the apartment. I could catch up easily but right now, we have bigger worries.
“What happened?” Betsy demands, keeping her voice low.
I recount my altercation with Brett.
“So you were pissed when you got here.” She considers. “That explains a lot.”
“It does?”
“Well kid, Cas wasn’t doing shit for producing fire until you showed up pissed off.”
“You mean…”
“Yeah. I think she’s waking up.” She pauses. “As for the other, it looks like I have some more writing to do.”