4. Chapter 4 （Hailey）

CHAPTER 4 (HAILEY)

W hen I come to, I’m lying on a sofa, dripping water onto what’s probably super expensive material. Johnny and Miriam stand across the room, arguing.

“What were you thinking?” Miriam hisses. “We agreed on a logical sequence of events.”

“We have little time,” Johnny replies in the same whisper shout. “I had to find out if she can take the pressure.”

Despite them probably thinking their hissing is like whispering, the sound travels clearly across the room to where I am. They’re obviously not agreeing on their lesson plan for my mentoring, and I want to find out more, so I close my eyes halfway and pretend to be passed out.

“And what did you conclude from your brief experiment?” Miriam snarls.

Johnny scratches his chin and turns toward me. I quickly close my eyes all the way. “That she’s a lot stronger and powerful than we think. Probably more than she thinks, too.”

“What do you mean?” Miriam asks in her regular voice, laced with curiosity.

“I could pull a lot more power from her,” he pauses, “actually, it was as if I pulled it through her. Besides my regular aquatic sources, she acted as a conduit, and it felt as if I pulled energy straight from the water.”

“Huh,” Miriam says, but the expression seems extra unsophisticated because it’s coming from her. “Then why did she pass out? Conduits are not hurt as they funnel magic from the source to a host.”

“Because she resisted my pull. She protected the source, the water.”

“Ridiculous,” the older woman huffs. “Conduits can’t resist. They’re not like valves that can open and close. They’re spigots, controlled by the host that uses them.”

“Or so we’ve always thought,” Johnny says. “But this one is a conduit that works as a valve. She can control the flow. Well, at least she tried to.”

I have no idea what any of the terms they’re discussing are. Conduits seem straightforward. It’s obviously someone who siphons power from their source and can share it with others. I’ve known about this ability, but didn’t know the people that had it were called “conduits.” Nor did I know I had the talent to do this.

The spigot vs. valve discussion is completely unfamiliar territory, and I strain my ears to pick up more about it. But they’ve both lowered their voices to a level where I can’t pick out the words.

I execute a very fake awakening, complete with arm stretches and an enormous yawn. They both hurry toward me, and I blink up at them as they lean over the couch. “What happened?”

Johnny shoots me a blinding smile, another one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You fainted. I think the excitement of having us as mentors was too much for you.”

I want to call bullshit since my passing out had everything to do with him pulling too much power too quickly and nothing to do with how I feel about working with them as mentors. I’m actually not sure how I feel about learning from them. They’re horrendously powerful, but also very unpredictable. I probably should have asked about things like a lesson plan and learning materials to study before I jumped in with both feet. Like, literally. I stood in the lake with two soaked feet, and now, here I am, cold and exhausted, dripping on a sofa.

Miriam snorts. “You actually did fine, but Johnny here went off track to test your abilities without proper preparation.”

Her honesty warms me toward her, by maybe a fraction of a degree. I still haven’t forgotten her snooty rudeness yesterday.

The fiery anger in the look that Johnny shoots her, though, could burn her to a crisp.

An involuntary gasp slips past my lips and Johnny quickly schools his features into his usual blinding smile, while Miriam frowns at me. She sighs, the way a grownup does when they’re disappointed in their child.

“We’ve lost most of the day while you were recovering,” she says. “It’s afternoon now, and I have other obligations to attend to.” She gestures toward the door, and I realize that this lovely room is actually where Miriam is staying during the retreat. It’s three times the size of mine and has a separate living room and a small kitchenette.

Johnny looks at his watch. “Let’s pick this up tomorrow. We’ll meet in the lobby at the same time as today.” He strides out of the room without a backward glance.

Miriam crosses her arms and impatiently taps her fingers against her biceps as she waits for me to sit up and scoot off the couch. I pad across the thick carpet, my clothes dripping a trail of moisture behind me. At the door, I find my sandals.

I pick them up and turn toward Miriam, who’s now right behind me and wastes no time as she opens the door and, not gently, pushes me out and closes it behind me.

I take a little while to get my bearings, but once I figure out in which area of the resort I am, I trudge toward my room, still dripping with water all the way.

A hot shower later, dressed in dry and warm clothes, I take advantage of room service to feed my growling stomach. Not in the mood to converse with the other people attending the retreat, I scan my emails and direct messages as I dig into an excellent club sandwich and perfectly cooked tater tots.

There are a depressingly low number of things I have to reply to. Most of the messages are jokes and funny videos forwarded by people I never really talk to and communicate with, only by sending equally funny videos back. My parents were killed in a car accident before I turned twelve, so I spent my teenage years in a group home. I didn’t lack for resources or affection, though. The group who ran the home were kind and magically talented people. But they were also very busy, so once I aged out of the home, I rarely went back to visit.

When I see a text message from my best friend Moxie, I smile.

How’s the highfaluting gathering going? Will I have to curtsy when I see you next?

I prefer a non-gender conforming deep bow.

Any rich and powerful hotties at this thing?

I wish.

And I really do.

I have an okay social life in the Tri-Cities. I don’t date much. It’s too draining and too disappointing. I hook up with men now and then, but mostly, I’m happier with my battery-operated boyfriend than with the live versions. So, some small part of me had hoped that maybe I would meet someone at this retreat. Even for just a quick hookup.

Okay, forget hot. How about just rich? Maybe old and rich so you can inherit soon.

Gah. The little one is awake. Gotta go.

I sigh and try not to get further into the dumps.

My circle of friends is great, but I’ve reached the age where many of them are coupling up and starting families, including my best friend. Moxie has a six-month-old named Beatrice, but everyone calls her Bean. She’s the cutest thing, and I love spending time with her and her mom. But I don’t have any experience with the wonderful new events unfolding in Moxie’s life, so it’s normal that we don’t talk as much as we used to. At least, that’s what I tell myself when I miss her.

Although her parents are magical citizens, Moxie has no ability herself, and her partner is a regular human. Bean is also not magical, at least not so far. So Moxie’s pulling further and further away from the magical world. Not that I’m all that entrenched in it.

As an elemental, I don’t really have a steady job based on my magical abilities. I'm mostly freelance as a power-booster for bigger jobs. I make my rent through working in a Wiccan bookstore and occasionally waiting tables in a nearby pub. That’s why this magical retreat had me so excited. I thought it would be an opportunity to step up my abilities and learn new things. Something that hopefully would lead to steady employment.

Maybe this new conduit talent that Johnny unlocked will lead to new potential gigs. With that hopeful thought, and still wiped out from my early magic lesson, I go to bed early.

My dreams are filled with disturbing images of boiling lakes and rivers filled with dead fish.