…..CHAPTER 15…..
October 28th
“What?” Oscar’s voice sounded shocked, but also angry.
Oliver looked around at the kitchen table where his Handler, Randall, and Melinda stood, heads together. He levered himself out of his dent in the couch and hobbled over to them, shot a glance at Tracy where he stood motionless by the sink. He looked as leery as Oliver felt.
“What’s going on?”
Oscar looked up at him, eyes going wary. “Not right now Oliver. Get back over there. Your leg.”
Oliver stared at him. It’d been nearly the whole two weeks he was supposed to stay off his leg. He’d begun taking short walks, too. So why was Oscar not telling him what was happening? Oscar was…protecting him? “What is it, Oscar?”
The man’s brown eyes went flat with anger. “Not right now. Please. I’ll tell you later.”
Oliver felt his Handler’s anger and worry. He shot a look at Tracy. He, too, was mystified, but he stepped up and helped Oliver back to the couch. Randall and Melinda spoke with him quietly for another few moments, then turned and hurried out the front door.
Oscar met his gaze over the distance from table to couch where he sat sideways to stare over the back at his Handler. “The AG is raising concerns over the seizure of the Kipling family.”
“What?” Oliver gasped, sitting bolt upright. His leg screamed at him for his unwise movement, and he gasped, catching his breath for a second. “We did everything right! We…”
“I know, Oliver. We’re working on it. Don’t worry. We’re moving fast to prove we did it by the book.”
“Can he really… Fuck. He can’t interfere in state jurisdiction. Can he?”
Oscar scowled. “Technically he can. Federal almost always supersedes state. And since no less than four federal agencies were involved, the actions of the Kipling’s over state lines among other things…that makes it his jurisdiction.”
Oliver stared helplessly. “But we did everything we were supposed to do to make this stick.”
Oscar scrubbed his face. “I know. Don’t worry. It’s just a possibility. He’s probably trying to make sure everything was done properly. That’s his job.”
Oliver scowled and sat back against the arm of the couch. He tried to remember everything he knew about the man. Appointed by the president, he’d barely been confirmed in his post. Or was that the Secretary of State that had almost not made it through the process? He shook his head, pulled his computer close and did some quick research.
Gerald Felton, current Attorney General, sixty-one years old, former Army Ranger, law school graduate from Yale with top honors, and a long career in law that crested with his appointment to Attorney General. Married with three children, two sons and a daughter, divorced from the mother of said kids, his second wife was younger but not in a gross way, a mere seven years. Current wife had two of her own children from a previous marriage.
No criminal record. Not even a parking ticket. He was clean.
Suspiciously so.
Oliver scowled at the computer like it had insulted him. “Damn,” he breathed.
Oscar paced in the kitchen, scowling. Tracy had his own computer up, typing like the wind…also scowling.
“Oliver, how is your leg?”
“It’s fine,” he said absently.
“Your appointment later today should be your green light to move around. If you’re allowed to move, I have plans for tomorrow.”
“What plans?”
“Practice.”
Oliver nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Oscar snorted but left it at that.
His appointment went well. The doctor was pleased with his healing progress and pronounced him ready for physical therapy.
“Your leg is stiff, the muscles weakened from lack of regular motion. I think a few times a week for a month or so will work wonders.”
“But I’m allowed to walk as much as I want, now?”
“Within reason, Oliver,” he said with a grin.
He stayed in the House that night, since he was already in the building for his appointment.
When Oscar arrived at his apartment door the next morning, early as hell, he had Phoebe with him. “Ready?”
Oliver glanced at Phoebe, who shrugged.
“For what?”
“Practice, remember?”
Oliver gave his Handler a hard look. “With Phoebe.”
“Yep.”
He knew where this was going, and didn’t like it much.
Oliver turned back into his apartment and went to change his clothes. Practice could get messy, so he put on jeans, tee-shirt, and his sneakers.
“Okay, I’m ready,” he said, snatching up his cell, keys, and badge.
Oliver watched Oscar as his Handler gently guided Phoebe out the door. Phoebe had been given her own temporary apartment here in the House while she continued to recover. She’d been seeing a psychologist and the doctor, but they’d release her from care soon. When they did, Oliver knew she’d be sent to the academy. He might even end up teaching her occasionally. A pang of hurt and worry for her pricked his mind and heart. She’d been free all her life. Coming into the registry so much later was hard on a witch. He didn’t want her to go.
He refused to look at any other reasons why.
When Oscar glanced over his shoulder with a puzzled look, Oliver followed.
Out in the parking lot, Oliver found himself in the backseat as Oscar drove them to the Dale-Carson house.
Tracy came from his office when the door opened. “You weren’t gone long, love. What’s up? Oh, hello there.”
Phoebe smiled uncertainly. “Hello.”
“I’m just here to get the Jeep.” Oscar pecked Tracy’s cheek, hesitated, then made a better effort and kissed him.
Phoebe managed to keep her giggle quiet, but Oliver shot her a grin.
Oscar was grinning ear-to-ear as he led them out to the garage and into the Jeep.
Oliver again sat in back. “Why didn’t you bring the Jeep in the first place?” he asked, frowning.
“I wasn’t sure if Phoebe had any appointments today. You ready? It’s past time to gauge Phoebe’s talents, little bro.”
Oliver nodded, waiting.
“And yours.”
“Fuck. I figured.”
Oscar laughed at his sour tone, Phoebe glanced over her shoulder to frown at him, and he scowled back.
Then he turned his face to the window and glared at the passing scenery while Oscar chatted easily with Phoebe.
It was a two hour trip to their training ground. Tracy owned a tiny little cabin up in the mountains, not far from Fairplay. He and Oscar brought him and the kids up here regularly in the summer. The only reason a trip up there right now was safe was because they hadn’t had a decent snow yet.
They arrived around ten o’clock. Oscar got out and led them straight to the big meadow behind the cabin, bypassing the little house entirely. Phoebe walked beside him, shooting him glances often. Oliver met her gaze once, puzzled until he saw the fear in her eyes.
“Don’t worry. We’re just gonna practice our magic.”
She snorted. “Oh, is that all?”
Oliver couldn’t help the little smile. “Yeah. That’s all. And that’s a lot. I’m sort of in your shoes, in a way.”
She lifted her brows in amused dismissal. God this woman had him pegged. Being a teacher, it was no wonder. And he didn’t care if Phoebe said she was ‘just’ a teacher’s assistant.
“I might be capable of using magic beyond my native, but that doesn’t mean I’m any good at it,” he muttered.
Phoebe nodded, turning her face toward Oscar’s back without a word.
Once in the field, Oscar turned to them. “Alright, you two. Oliver is experienced with using magic, so Phoebe, I expect you to listen to him. Oliver, you need to be careful because I don’t doubt for a minute that you need practice in order to steady your control over the other Elements. You might be able to use them, but as far as I know, you’ve never trained them. Assuming you’ve had little to no privacy to practice, I’m guessing any time you’ve used the other Elements, you did it quick and dirty, where control was less important than disruption or channeling.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have any idea what Aspects in each you prefer?”
“No. Not even that much.”
“Alright. Today you’re going to guide Phoebe in learning her magic, from the bottom up. You’re also going to work on your own control. I want you to try,” and he emphasized the last word, “to see if you know which other Aspects appeal to you.” Oscar held his hand up when Oliver started to object. “I know. I know it takes time, sometimes years for some witches, to learn their favored Aspect. I just want you to try.”
Oliver settled and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He suspected he knew why Oscar wanted to know. Everyone knew war was coming, and they needed to be ready for it. Oliver needed to be ready, which meant knowing what he could do with magic.
Oscar raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to Phoebe and back. “I think we can relax here.”
Oliver drew a deep, pine-scented breath and turned to her. “Ready?”
Phoebe shook her head with a swallow. “No. But I don’t get a choice do I?”
“No. Your magic should’ve been trained years ago. It’s dangerous to go untrained.”
Phoebe nodded absently, eyes sad and distant. “Yeah,” she whispered.
Oliver led her further into the field, away from Oscar, who had moved to the edge of the trees, leaning against a thick trunk, ready to duck behind it if he had to.
Phoebe shifted nervously, her trepidation clear. Oliver looked up at the sky. It was an endless blue today, not a cloud in sight. That likely wouldn’t last long. Mornings were usually clear as a bell until afternoon clouds rolled in. It didn’t often rain or snow, or if it did, it was scattered, sporadic. Although being in the mountains might alter that a bit. Still, this would be a great time of day to get her started.
“Alright. First, a little explanation. Magic is in the world around us. Not in us. In other words, we don’t produce magic. Some few can consciously absorb into themselves the energy of the magic, forming something like a reservoir. I know you can do this—I’ve seen it. And a few witches passively absorb it, which I do, without thinking about it at all. As witches, we have the ability to use the energy of magic. Witches have always been able to do this, but it wasn’t until 1629 that magic was first quantified. Documented. Witnessed in an official capacity. You’ll hear about the history of that eventually.”
Phoebe nodded, listening without interrupting.
“What many people don’t understand—and what our native designation hints at—is that magic is not itself elemental. Magic is magic. It has no preference. It’s the individual that makes their magic work the way it does. An Air witch doesn’t use Air magic, because Air magic doesn’t exist. An Air witch uses magic that becomes Air magic through the lense of the witch’s mind and body. The way the individual witch takes in and uses magic is what determines how the magic expresses. For us, being Primes, our bodies and minds dictate what we can do. And the two of us happen to be able to use all the Elements.”
“Does that mean all the Aspects of each Element?”
Oliver shrugged. “I believe so. I’ve never heard of a Prime that couldn’t. Then again, not much is known about Primes, even when a Prime is handy to examine.”
“Four Elements. How many Aspects?”
“Five each, which is including the Element name. For me? It’s Earth, Mass, Lattice, Gravity, and Magnetism. For you, it’s Air, Space, Void, Probability, and Dimension.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened slightly. Her eyes unfocused. “Oh,” she breathed. “I see it.”
He smiled. Yeah, she was good. “As you’ve just noticed, Air surprisingly isn’t so much about the gasses of our atmosphere. It’s about the spaces between molecules and how to manipulate that space.”
She nodded absently.
“Air is the most common of the Elements of witchcraft. Because it involves the movement of air and the control of spaces, which are transparent, it somewhat masked the use of magic for a very long time. That and the fact that there are so many kinds of magic. It wasn’t until the creation of the Witch-born Research Center here in Denver that we began to understand why magic was so misunderstood and entirely missed for so damn long. Fire is the rarest form of witchcraft. If it had been common, no one could have missed magic for so long.”
“What about Water and Earth witches?”
Oliver wobbled his hand. “They’re about equally as rare. Closer to Fire in their percentages than they are to Air. And they’re almost perfectly equal in numbers. Earth might outnumber Water a tiny bit.”
“And we can use them all?” Her voice was subdued.
Oliver looked away. “Yeah. You can imagine how rare we are, Phoebe. Last I heard, there aren’t even a dozen world-wide. Seven or eight, I think.”
“And rare means valuable.”
He nodded. “To the government, yes. But they don’t know, nor will they. Oscar won’t tell them, and I sure as hell won’t. No one is telling anyone about your status. And I hope you won’t tell them about me. Because if they find out… I-I…” His voice cracked.
“I won’t tell them,” she said hastily. “I promise.”
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat and turned his face back to her. “Are you ready?”
She nodded reluctantly.
“Then hold out your hands. Magic is manipulated by our hands, but only enough to gather and shape. However, if you’re ever bound, don’t think you’re helpless. Yes, we have to use them to physically move and organize magic, but it’s our minds that process it once we have it in our grasp.” Oliver eyed her, shifting his mind to observe her. She waited patiently, but he was watching the magic around her. It swirled and shifted, drifting toward her constantly. And she was completely unaware of it.
Like him, Phoebe passively absorbed magic. Most witches of level eight or above did, which spoke to her power.
First things first. She had to be made aware of this, so she could cut it off. Sitting with magic inside was a quick way to lose control of her magic if she became upset or if she had a nightmare.
Hence the reason he dumped magic into the grid when he felt as if a nightmare might be imminent. He kept his magic under strict control, but at night…
Being a witch meant always being on guard, not just from the people around them, but the magic, too. And the more powerful the witch, the more on guard they had to be. Sometimes it was exhausting.
Oliver guided Phoebe through the most basic lessons of all, lessons she should’ve had the moment her magic came into existence. First he taught her how to stop the free flow of magic into her, and how to harness the stored magic inside. Then he showed Phoebe how to control the flow in and out of herself.
Oliver was pleased that she learned these basics quickly. But they were basic, so anything more would require a lot of practice and even more effort and time for it.
“Hey you two!” Oscar called from the meadow’s edge. They turned to him. “It’s lunchtime. Come inside for a bite!”
Oliver gave Phoebe an approving smile. “You’re doing great. But Oscar knows what he’s talking about. Using magic requires energy, so you should stay on top of your food intake and stay hydrated. Especially here in Colorado. Our arid location makes that harder.”
“Is that why I’m so tired?” she muttered.
“Yup.”
Oscar had prepared them a simple lunch of canned soup and crackers. Since they didn’t come up here during the winter very often, they’d driven up weeks ago to prepare the cabin for winter. No perishables at all.
Oscar fed them lunch. When they were done, he asked how things were going.
“She’s got natural talent and instinct, no question. She’s learned some basics today, so I’m less worried about any accidents.”
Oscar nodded and smiled at Phoebe. “That’s great. How do you feel?”
Phoebe frowned. “Tired. But less worried. I feel…like I have a better understanding of what I feel around me. I don’t have control of it, but at least I understand it.”
“That comes with time and practice,” Oscar said soothingly.
Oliver nodded, wiping cracker crumbs from his hands. “Oscar might not be a witch himself, but he’s seen me and talked to me about magic for so long he knows everything there is to know about being a witch.”
Oscar grinned at Oliver. “Are you calling me an honorary witch?”
Oliver grinned back. “I’ve seen you do magic, Oscar. The kids yesterday didn’t stand a chance.”
Oscar laughed a deep belly laugh. When he calmed, he was still smiling broadly. “Alright. Back to work, you two. I want you to spend an hour or so practicing, Phoebe, if you don’t mind. And then, Oliver, I want you to practice your own magic. Focus on Air, so Phoebe can see it in action. She’ll need to gain control of her native first, because in any instinctive actions, she’ll use it first.”
Oliver grinned at Phoebe. “See?”
She smiled back. “I do. Were Cara and Micah a handful yesterday?”
Oscar lifted his face toward the ceiling with a groan.
Once back outside, Oliver lead Phoebe through a few exercises to teach control, explained a little more of the fundamentals before setting her up with some exercises.
Two hours later, he glanced at Oscar, sitting by that tree. His Handler lifted an eyebrow. He had a feeling Oscar knew he was stalling.
Oliver scowled at him. Oscar just grinned.
Shaking his head, he turned to his student. “Why don’t you go sit next to Oscar? But keep watching the magic.” Oliver hesitated. “Can you see the magic?”
Phoebe looked surprised. “Of course.” Puzzled, she tilted her head. “Can’t we all?”
“No. Well, yes. But there are levels. Every witch, even level ones, can see the magic of the world around them. Some can see the magic miles away. Some can see the magic miles away and use it that far away, too. And some can see the magic and use it to see the world itself in real time. I think it’s called clairvoyance, by those who follow the arcane side of culture,” he said with a grimace.
Phoebe lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t believe in that?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Yes, we do magic, but for all intents and purposes, there’s a science to what we do. We may not understand how we do it, but it’s repeatable, therefore, there’s science in it. And that doesn’t include the actual science of it. I’ll take you to the research center some time. After it was founded, scientists worked with witches to find out that each Element had different parts under the umbrella of the Element.”
“You mean the Aspects haven’t always been there?”
“Of course they have. They just weren’t understood, weren’t divided properly into the Element and explored. Not until after the center was founded.”
“What’s your favored Aspect?”
“Lattice.”
Phoebe looked into the distance, eyes sad. “I suppose I’ll find my own soon.”
“Yes. But don’t be in a hurry. And also, it’s not unheard of for a witch as they age and mature to shift their Aspect. Old Reuben, Jesse’s first witch was an Air witch. I heard he switched Aspects shortly after he joined Jesse. It had something to do with Reuben’s mindset before and after the transfer. He’d spent most of his life being Space focused, but he switched to Void. He’s still Void, as far as I know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No. He retired quite a few years ago.”
“Oh.”
“Also, Phoebe, you’re going to notice something the minute you start mingling.”
She stared back warily. He nodded, mouth tightening. “Witches live in a world of sensations. You’ve probably always known this, but I’m going to state it bluntly. We recognize each other. Because you weren’t trained, your magic was…neutral, unattached. Any witch you came across wouldn’t know you for one unless they got really close, or they were really powerful. Now that you’re training, your magic is going to be obvious. And other witches, no matter their age or experience, is going to bow to your power.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened. “Bow?”
Oliver quirked a smile. “Okay, maybe not bow. Let’s just say, they’re going to defer to you in a way you may not feel comfortable with yet because of your inexperience. It’s informally known as the pyramid of power. Be prepared for it to happen. It will happen. And it will happen soon. The witches of the FBW&R will be the first, because you’re there. You’re going to get looks. Some will be jealous. Some will be amused. Some might look awestruck.” Oliver smiled. “Gwen. She’ll be one of those, though why I don’t know, since she’s a level 9. But she will. I’ll introduce you. You’ll like Gwen.”
“What level am I?”
“We won’t know for awhile yet. We have to gauge your talent.” Oliver held up his hand, one finger pointing up. “Foundations first.” Another finger came up. “Basics second,” and another finger for each as he listed them. “Knowledge third, practice fourth, and gauging fifth. It’s standard protocol in school. You’ll hear it till you wanna barf.”
Phoebe grimaced. “Good to know.” She hesitated. “Thank you, Oliver. For everything.”
Oliver smiled and opened his arms. When she stepped into his hug, he held her tight. “You’re welcome, Phoebe. I know this is scary, I know this is overwhelming. But you’ll be great. That level you asked about? I’m pretty good at guessing. And I’m betting on level 8, at least. You’re going to be a force to be reckoned with, Phoebe. After academy, you’ll probably be dropped into the federal pool, and you may even end up back here at the FBW&R.”
“But what about the other Elements?”
“I’m going to teach you how to control that part of yourself before you leave. Have you noticed them yet?”
Phoebe nodded into his shoulder, and the movement wafted her soft scent to his nose. Oliver gulped and let her go, physically and mentally jolted by her proximity. “I’ll explain more later, but you already know that each Element has a distinct feel to it.”
She nodded, staring at him, puzzled. “Earth feels…more solid. Air feels the opposite, as if I can’t grasp it. Until I do, and it’s not hard to do at all.”
“And Water feels slippery, while Fire feels jittery.”
She nodded emphatically.
“I’m going to help you control the other Elements. But if you can keep them to yourself, keep them a secret, Phoebe, it’ll be better for both of us. Because if you reveal you’re a Prime, higher ups are going to want to know how you could slip through the cracks, how no one knew. But more importantly, they’ll want to know how you kept it secret, which means someone trained you to.”
Phoebe’s mouth tightened. “Oh,” she breathed, then swallowed and nodded. “They’ll look to you and Oscar. Okay. I’ll keep it to myself.”
“Thank you.” Oliver drew a deep breath, then shot a belated look at Oscar, who was visibly restraining a grin. He ignored his Handler. “Uh… Another thing. I’ve figured out that I’m sort of a hugger. If I can. But it’s frowned upon for witches to touch others, especially other witches. We’re not supposed to have physical relations. Not even hugs. Uh… The academy will explain more.”
God, he was twenty-five and blushing like a little girl caught kissing her first crush.
Phoebe looked both surprised and amused. “I’ve heard.”
Oliver relaxed, though how the public knew about tumbles, he had no idea, considering the very legal stance against witches having kids.
“Alright. Let me work for awhile. I’m going to try to solidify my own skills with Air. You mentioned Air is difficult to grasp until you try. That’s because it’s your native. For me, it’s always difficult to grasp. Being Prime doesn’t make it easy. It just makes it possible, and it’s up to us as Primes to do the impossible—to do the things that others can’t.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened a bit. He wasn’t sure why she was surprised. To him, it was common sense. He turned and walked further into the meadow. “Head on back to Oscar, now, please.”
Oliver spent the rest of the afternoon until just before sunset tearing up the meadow with his magic, focusing on Air at first as he learned the feel and use of that part of himself that he’d had to ignore out of necessity. Oscar’s decision for him to focus on Air had dovetailed nicely with Oliver’s own goal. Waking up from a Dimensional dream… Yeah, learning his own powers of Air had become essential.
The more he practiced, the easier it became—and the more he enjoyed using this magical part of himself that he’d neglected for so long.
Just before the sun went down, Oliver gave himself a few moments with Water. It was a pleasing Element to him and always had been. Spinning water that he’d squeezed from the ground into a vertical spiral, he played with forming shapes with it, moving it, pushing and pulling.
Something he noticed right away was the sensation involved with each Element; they were unique, and his mind had to deal with them in a different way from how he used the other Elements. It took time for him to switch between each Element as he handled them. And Fire spooked him with its wildness and speed, so he decided to learn it last, barely touching it at all.
Something he intended to work on, then—rapid switches between Elements. Yeah, finding his favored Aspects would have to wait. Oscar would understand when he explained, because Oliver felt it more important to make sure he could act fast at need. The first was academic.
The second was survival.
He had a feeling that now that he was actively training all of his magic, he’d need to know how to use them without hiccups or confusion.