 
### Elemental powers in the palm of her hand...

...and it won't be enough to save her. When Kaitlyn Alder is involuntarily introduced to a life of magic, she becomes part of an organization hell-bent on saving the Earth. Just as her newfound life holds promises of purpose, romance, and friendship, the organization divides and a rogue member holds Kaitlyn hostage. Now one of the most terrifying men the human race has to offer stands between her and Earth's survival.

Reviews for Water:

By Jennifer at  Can't Put It Down Reviews:

_"I LOVED this book, plain and simple. I am EXCITED about this book and the books to follow. This new author has completely amazed me, sucking me into this world she has created that I didn't want to step away from_." and " _I was kept on the edge of my seat through the whole book, not being able to read fast enough to find out what happened in the next chapter. Water reads fast, never lagging. I love the characters, I love the premise, I loved the writing style."_

By Alexia at  Alexia's Chronicles:

"Where to begin... ok, this book is right up my alley! I enjoyed it so much that it kept me up till early hours of the morning – I could not put it down! I love the storyline and how Kaitlyn's dreams are (in a way) connected to her everyday life and emotions. Terra Harmony is an amazing author!" and "At the end of the book there is a little sneak preview of the second book in the series, Air – that just made me want to read the second book immediately! I can't wait for the second installment. This is definitely a series and author I'll be following closely!"

By Maria Violante,  Author of Hunting the Five:

" _Speaking of the plot – it's terrific, not just in creativity or in the "twist", but also in the pacing._ _Water_ _is balanced between giant, crashing catastrophes and quiet, tense moments, yet it rarely lags or feels stale or repetitive." And "_ _Water_ _really shines, though, when it comes to characters. They're highly developed, with good backstories and clear motivations, and they act like real people do."_ and _"Harmony does a decent job of reinventing the genre, adding in clear roots of Paganism/Witchcraft, nature-worship, and modern day environmentalism. The myriad of influences help move the book away from something stale and into the field of a really enjoyable read."_

The Akasha Series:

Water, Book 1 – _Now a FREE e-book across all platforms_

Air, Book 2

Fire, Book 3

Earth, Book 4

Or buy the complete set:  
Akasha, The Complete Saga

## Water

By Terra Harmony

A Patchwork Press Title

Copyright 2011 by Terra Harmony

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this publication via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage illegal electronic distribution of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

Patchwork-Press.com

Editing Team: Jessica Dall, Cathy Wathen,

and Extra Set of Eyes Proofing  
www.readitreviewit.wordpress.com

Cover design by Keary Taylor  
www.indiecoverdesigns.com
A big thanks to all the strong women in my life;

To my mother, sister, and grandmother, who read the earliest versions of 'Water' and gave me the encouragement I needed to move forward.

To my mother-in-law, who is my best supporter.

To all my editors and my cover designer, who really know how to make my creation shine.

To Alexia, Jennifer, Nat, and Mindy – book review bloggers who must have overdosed on awesome sauce.

Without you, none of this would have been possible. I'll be sure to save you seats for the premier!
**Table of Contents**

Chapter 1: Closed Casket

Chapter 2: Where in the World

Chapter 3: Hey, Yourself

Chapter 4: Needed

Chapter 5: Tree Huggers

Chapter 6: Redemption

Chapter 7: Deviant

Chapter 8: Fast Enough

Chapter 9: Questionable Timing

Chapter 10: Miles to Run

Chapter 11: Drama

Chapter 12: Quite a Sight

Chapter 13: Fishing

Chapter 14: Hypnotic Whispers

Chapter 15: Pleasant Conversations

Chapter 16: White Noise

Chapter 17: By the Book

Chapter 18: As Always

Chapter 19: Eyes on the Prize

Chapter 20: Sparks

Chapter 21: For What It's Worth

Chapter 22: Bodyguards

Chapter 23: Water Wars

Chapter 24: Dirty Boots

Chapter 25: Olé

Chapter 26: Boats and Bananas

Chapter 27: Outcast

Chapter 28: Girls Night Out

Chapter 29: Perro Gaurdian

Chapter 30: Not Quite

Chapter 31: Alive and Kicking

Chapter 32: Unpleasant Conversations

Chapter 33: Field Trip

Chapter 34: Triumph

Chapter 35: Fate of a Gaia

Chapter 36: Dirty Work

Chapter 37: Water of Wonder

Air Excerpt

About the Author
Forward

Water is the first book in the Akasha Series, a set of contemporary eco-fantasy novels. This book is for mature readers only. It contains sexual content, some of it non-consensual. Comments and criticism are always welcome and can be sent to terra.harmony11@gmail.com. Readers can also find me on facebook, goodreads, and on my blog.

If you enjoy the book, please consider leaving a review. Happy reading!

Terra Harmony
Chapter 1

Closed Casket

There is nothing like an avalanche to put your life into perspective. I leaned forward; the board strapped to my boots responded. Slicing through the fresh powder, I made a sharp curve to the right. A quick glance uphill revealed a wave of snow five times my height, and it was about to catch up to me.

The avalanche roared like an angry dragon, breath stinking of the earth churned up in its path. The entire right side of the unmarked backcountry trail was a thick wall of trees, impossible to break through. I pulled my toes up, arching back to the left side of the trail. But I wasn't going to make it. Ice pelted me on the back of my neck, sending chills down my spine. I pointed my snowboard straight downhill and put all my weight on my forward leg, hoping to outrun the beast.

I willed my board to go faster than I ever dared before. The avalanche was faster. It opened its mouth wide, closing in on me from both sides and overhead. Gray blacked out the blue sky above and the trees to the side of me. The mountain slope cracked and slithered forward, like a monster's forked tongue. As the force of nature dropped over me, I closed my eyes and threw my arms around my head. My screams were swallowed by the creature.

Completely engulfed, I moved with the avalanche. The whole of the trail had transformed into its body; an agitated, unstoppable river of churning snow and debris. The world became darker and darker, the snow heavier and heavier. Flashes of light were few and far between.

When I gasped for air I was sometimes rewarded with a clear breath but more often than not I sucked in a mouthful of snow. Hacking to rid my throat of the slush, I came to the awful realization that I was drowning on dry land.

My hands, flailing for something solid to hang onto, finally caught hold of a tree. Small as it was, it held fast against the merciless rush of snow. I fought against nature, literally holding on for my life. I wrapped myself around the trunk as two large branches just above me ripped away and disappeared in the churning white waves, along with my screams. I squeezed so tight the rough bark scratched my cheek. I inhaled the heavy scent of pine, as though the smell alone would keep me tethered to the tree. I willed the roots to be strong.

They were, but I was not. My grip started to loosen as my tired muscles and numb fingers were unable to hold on any longer. I lost the stable trunk and returned to the tumble of snow.

I came to a halt just like the rest of the debris that used to be the Canadian mountainside. A small air pocket had formed, allowing me to spit out the coppery taste of blood. Suffocation couldn't be too far off, encased as I was in an immobile block of ice. Feeble attempts at movement proved useless. Silence settled in on me as I heard the last of the snow come to a halt above me. I tolerated its crushing weight because I had no choice.

As the numbness slowly receded, pain returned to one hand. I wiggled my fingers. They were free, possibly above the surface. I grimaced. _Great – something for the wolves to gnaw on_. Closed casket for me.
Chapter 2

Where in the World

I sat up, gasping for breath. My lungs tried to hack up snow that wasn't there. The clear breath didn't stop me from hyperventilating. I was still buried. Flailing all four limbs, I clawed my way out from the white. Waves of pain starting in my head shot down to my arms and legs, threatening to engulf me. Sharp, painful jolts coursed through my body.

Sunlight hit me, bright and intense. I covered my eyes and my hand brought up a cotton sheet with it. I looked around in confusion. Soft, cream-colored pillows and blankets surrounded me; a large comforter was halfway on the floor.

_I should be dead._ _What happened? Snowboarding, avalanche, free hand, a pull on my hand, blue sky..._

It took a moment to settle in. The razor sharp teeth and vice-like jaws of wolves I had been expecting never came. Instead there was a firm but gentle pull from a warm hand. _Somebody saved me! But who? How?_ In my usual inability to plan I had told no one of my trip.

Trying to recall the events further only managed to evoke foggy snatches of conversation. There were men talking about my injuries. A broken wrist, sprained ankle, bruised ribs. Other bits of medical terminology toyed with me.

Slowly turning my sore neck, I surveyed the room. It was bare, save for the bed and the porcelain sink in the corner. The only window was small, placed high up on one wall, flooding the room in brilliant rays of afternoon sun.

It didn't smell like a hospital. The air was fresh, almost tropical. The familiar _boops_ and _beeps_ of machines were absent; there was no low hum of conversations from nurses and doctors in the hallway. I knew those sounds well thanks to my unnatural knack for getting caught in the middle of disasters. This wasn't a hospital.

I shifted, and pain shot up my arm. If my wrist was broken, they hadn't bothered to cast it, or even brace it. Cradling it with the other arm would do for now.

I swung my feet over the side of the bed and forced myself to stand, slowly. Wavering, I caught myself on the wall, and waited for my legs to steady themselves before hobbling to the sink.

Cold, metallic-tasting water poured from the faucet. I drank, soothing my dry throat. The pain in my ribs, multiplied by the simple task of breathing seemed to lessen. Still, the bruised mass that was my body protested every small movement. Given that I had already marked myself for death on the mountainside, the pain was more welcome than not.

I slowly made my way across the room and tried the door handle. Locked. I turned around and fought back the inclination to panic. I could hardly recall a time in my life I had felt imprisoned. As a child I was happy to stay close to mom and dad, and whatever home we had at the time. Having very few personal relations and a flexible job as an adult, I was free to do what I wanted, when I wanted so long as the balance in my bank account held steady.

Suddenly, that freedom was no longer mine.

A thick lump began to form in my throat. Quickly, I recalled my mother's meditation sessions. _No peeking, honey. Keep your eyes closed and your mind clear._ I imagined the smell of her sage, and after several deep breaths and a few moments of Zen, my nerves were calmed. Satisfied I could think straight, I concentrated on my surroundings. The only window was out of my reach but placed directly above the sink. Amidst unsuccessful attempts to coddle my various breaks, bumps, and bruises, I limped back toward the sink. Waddling too close to the end of the bed, a clipboard clattered to the floor.

I picked it up, my ribs groaning in protest, and quickly scanned the pages of handwritten notes hastily scrawled across them. _Female subject #134, experimental phase. Survived initial encounter. Begin injection treatment; run blood tests._

I let the clipboard fall back to the floor. My veins grew hot with adrenaline. I ran to the far wall. One painful hoist later, I was face to pane with the window. A single sheet of glass separated me from being able to return to my own life. Lonely though it was, my apartment was my sanctuary. As soon as I got back I would run a hot bath and soak away the cold and pain of the avalanche. I would concentrate on my job, find comfort in the familiarity of a photo shoot, and never, ever again take another vacation.

I placed my open palm on the glass. Warm, like the window in the backseat of our car when we dropped Dad off at work. _Have a good day, Katie. Be good for your mom_. He put his hand against the other side of the window in a final farewell. There was no hand on the other side of the glass now.

I tapped on the windowpane and the sound echoed around the empty room. It seemed sturdier than ideal. I'd never broken a window. I tested different stances and slow-motion strikes with my elbows and fists, debating what would be most effective on the wobbly basin. Deciding on a simple strike, I shifted so my back leg rested just inside the front of the sink. Common sense prevailed and I took off my shirt to wrap it around my knuckles. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined myself punching through the glass.

I reared my hand back and then toward the windowpane. My fist bounced back. I lost balance. My forward foot, anchored underneath one of the handles, did me no good. I fell backward off the sink, bringing the handle with me. The hard landing sent more jolts of pain through me. Though on the verge of shock, my body made a quick recovery aided by the cold. I lay directly in the path of water erupting from a now broken pipe.

Shocked out of shock; that was a first, even for me. I lay in a topless, sopping sprawl on the floor, staring up at the still completely intact window. I cursed at it. The only thing I managed to accomplish was that I could now add throbbing knuckles, an aching tailbone, and a bruised ego to my list of various injuries. Now more determined than before, I climbed back up armed with the broken handle from the sink. The window was no match against my new tool, and I let out a small cry of triumph as it shattered.

Woe be to those that try to stop me! I do not play victim. I am not familiar with that role.

Five days after my parent's funeral I had moved two states away, found work as an assistant to a local photographer, cajoled him into issuing me an advance, and was furniture shopping for my new apartment. I don't do grief or self-pity.

The window was level to the ground outside and I was back to survey mode before I moved further. I was right about the tropical atmosphere. The heavily scented and thick leafy bushes in front of me told me as much. They were covered in rich, burgundy star-shaped blossoms with white ruffled edges. The sheer intensity of it gave me pause. What else would I encounter outside of the shelter of my cream-colored room? Two beetles with long horns protruding from their heads fought each other on a leaf of the bush. Caught up in their own struggle, they were oblivious to my predicament.

Enough Kaitlyn, get a move on.

I pulled myself through, grabbing the shrubs as leverage. Freedom achieved, I belatedly realized I was bare from the waist up. I looked back at the room, debated for a moment, then finally re-entered through the obstacle of broken glass. A few cuts and several curse words later I was outside once again, fully clothed. The beetles disappeared into the depth of the bush, both living to fight another day.

Pressing into the shrubs against the wall for cover, I tried to orient myself, wondering where in the world I was. I was definitely a long way from Canada. A few yards of lush, dark green grass extended out from the bushes and then stopped at the wall of trees. The highest tree must have been at least a hundred feet tall. Broad, straight trunks supported a thick canopy of light green. The chaotic buzzing of insects and other wildlife filtered down from the top. Humidity weighed down the tropical breeze, but not enough to dampen a sweet fragrance in the air. I breathed it in, frowning at the smell that didn't quite seem to be a spice, but something more of a tangy zest. I tried to place it. It was an odd cross between a southeastern Chinese beach and the orange groves I once photographed near Riverside, California. I'd moved around more often than a military brat as a child, and had a job that put me in sixteen different countries by the time I was twenty-five. Fat lot of good that did me; I still couldn't place where I was now.

I looked at the building behind me. It was maybe three stories high, plus the basement, and long. Voices interrupted my examination. My head snapped toward them as I sucked in my stomach...as if that were going to hide me any better.

"Which room?" one very annoyed male asked.

Another man responded, "The white room. It was the only one ready."

"What? It wasn't meant for keeping someone in, damn it!"

"Were any of the rooms?"

Voices of the arguing pair continued forward, diminishing with distance. I moved as quickly as my hurt ankle allowed, keeping to the space between the shrubs and the building. I risked a peek out to catch a glimpse of who I might be up against. The men were not wearing uniforms but had all the bells and whistles security guards might have – radios, handcuffs, mace, and guns. A new rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins.

I emerged from my hiding place and began to sprint. My footing was awkward at first but straightened out as I discovered how high my tolerance for pain really was. I navigated the building, hoping the grounds were not as expansive on the other side. Breathing heavy by the time I rounded the corner, I slowed down to turn. Unfortunately, I wasn't going slowly enough to avoid a head-on collision with another guard.

We both bounced back. Our feet did not follow the change of direction so well and we each landed on the ground. I jumped up while he stayed down, hugging his chest, right where my knee made contact. I resumed my sprint.

His wheezing voice carried after me, the walkie-talkie clicking. "She's...in the... north yard."

I ran straight across the lawn, the mammoth property had to end eventually. Soon groves of shorter, flowering trees began to fill the yard, becoming thicker as I progressed. Just as I turned into them for better cover, several more men emerged, surrounding me.

I willed my body to stop. Panting, I looked between them, "You grow on trees around here?"

No one answered. Five big men stood around me, each waiting to see who would make the first move.
Chapter 3

Hey, Yourself

Sideways glances pointed to the one in charge. They seemed to be waiting for his consent. One of them spoke up, "How do you want to proceed, Shawn?"

He looked at me, narrowing his eyes. "Detainment – by any means necessary."

_Lovely_.

He gave a slight nod, and two men stepped toward me, one on each side. I sized them up. They were the smallest, but one was sporting a very ominous syringe. The arrogant prick didn't even try to hide it.

Facing my opponents, I pulled my shoulders back. There was no hesitation even as I considered the odds. Despite all I had been through, despite the pain in my leg and wrist that was threatening to come back, I felt stronger, quicker, and clear-headed. I brushed it off as an adrenaline rush. It felt great. So great, in fact, that I didn't have the patience to sit back and play defense.

Taking the initiative, I turned to face the man with the syringe, fully aware the other one was coming up behind me. My hand shot out to grab his wrist and I twisted until his grip on the syringe loosened. Not having to look, I leaned to one side in order to avoid a blow the man behind me intended for my head. It was as if they were moving in slow motion – how generous of them. As luck would have it, his fist went straight through, making contact with the other assailant's nose. A sickening crunch followed, and his blood splattered my face.

While both of them were busy looking stunned and trying to comprehend what had just happened, the other guards moved forward. I grabbed the syringe and emptied half of it into the thigh of the guard behind me. He staggered back a few steps and looked at me like I just killed his cat; his face contorting in shock and anger. The other guards seemed to be hesitating, moving toward me, stopping, looking at Shawn, and moving again. Before they could decide what to do, I turned to the one bent over, nursing his broken nose, and emptied the rest of the syringe into the most easily accessible part of him, his butt. Just like a bad action movie, they both fell over at the same time.

I was still panting, half from the fight, half from the run, but I made an effort to stand tall. The three other men just stood there, not bothering to hide their expressions of shock. Apparently I had just proven myself a worthy opponent.

Shawn recovered first, masking his expression. "Kaitlyn Alder - drop the syringe." Hearing my own name made me hesitate. They knew me. I had no idea if that was good or bad. He saw me waver with uncertainty and tried to strengthen his case. "It is empty anyway."

Never one to listen to reason, I shook my head, "Can't give up my only weapon." I spun the syringe in my hand once, for effect.

Shawn's eyes widened only slightly, "You don't need a weapon."

"I would if my life depended on it. And right now I'm getting the feeling my life depends on it," I said, gesturing to the two unconscious men on the ground.

Shawn sauntered toward me and I got my first good look at him. He was a foot taller than me with sandy-blonde hair, tousled by the run. A smooth face, with clean lines – perfect boy-band material. His attractive qualities were betrayed only by two cold blue eyes, which gave away too much. His half-smile did not touch them. They were malicious – as if they had seen pain he was only too eager to return. Whether I was the appropriate target or not mattered little to him.

He kicked one of the men on the ground. The man stirred, jerking slightly before becoming still again. "See? We weren't trying to kill you, just put you back to sleep."

"Pass." I held his gaze but my fingers twitched at my side.

His condescending look all but told me what a silly girl I was. "Unfortunately, you don't have much say in the matter."

"Two down says I do."

"You don't have any more serum," Shawn said.

"Still," I depressed the syringe until it was fully extended. "It can poke an eye out."

He smiled his malicious little half smile again, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a knife. "Not as well as this."

_Shit._ I silently cursed myself for letting sarcasm escalate the situation. It was a poor self-defense mechanism. I hadn't even considered the consequences.

The fact that I knew I was at a distinct disadvantage must have been evident on my face. He puffed up his shoulders and chest. "You should have taken the needle, it would have hurt less."

"En garde." Before my mouth finished uttering such a cheesy line, I had already shrugged it off. No one ever accused me of being quick-witted.

Shawn closed the remaining distance between us. The other men backed off, giving him his space. As soon as he was close enough, he thrust out the knife, aiming for my chest.

So much for not killing me.

I leaned sideways, leaving my hip in front of him. Grabbing him at the wrist and bicep, I used his own momentum to flip him over my hip. He landed hard on his back. I paused, stunned at my newly discovered talent of fighting. Keeping a tight hold on his wrist, I twisted his arm giving his body no choice but to follow. He was forced to lay face down on the ground. I gave his wrist another sharp twist and the knife fell out of his hand.

"Bitch!" he screamed. "You will bear my mark before this is over."

I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing out loud.

Instead, I grabbed the knife and made three quick cuts on his back. Blood seeped through his shirt in the shape of the letter K. Not one to be outdone with tacky declarations, I announced, "But not before you bear mine." I stepped back, releasing my grip on him, feeling entirely too pleased with myself.

It was short lived; four hands grabbed me. I had forgotten about the remaining two guards, significantly bigger men, who now had me sandwiched between them, keeping me all but immobile.

Shawn took his time getting up from the ground, dusting himself off before turning to face me. His eyes bore into me, burning with pure hatred. He twisted my wrist, the same maneuver I used on him, confiscating the knife. My eyes followed its tip as he ran it past my face. I squirmed and the guards' hold tightened. Pleased he had my undivided attention, he replaced the knife in his pocket and reared his hand back for the punishing blow. The sense of movements coming in slow motion worked against me. The split second before he closed in on my cheek with his fist lasted far too long.

I winced, bracing myself for the inevitable strike. It never came. Instead, I heard a loud slap. Cautiously opening one eye and then the other, I only saw Shawn's knuckles, tightened with rage and mere inches from my face. I looked past the fist, finding a newcomer gripping Shawn's wrist.

I would have liked to call it a Mexican standoff but that implies each person has some sort of advantage; I did not. Restrained beyond any hope of action, I studied the latest addition to the group. He was average height and weight, with darker hair and a slight muscular build. His eyebrows were thick and flat; expressionless. There was enough stubble on his chin and cheeks to tell me he hadn't held a razor that morning, and probably not even the morning before. Still, there was something appealing about him. I chalked it up as nothing more than gratitude for sparing me a potential broken jaw.

The two men, their hands still locked together, stared each other down. It was a silent conversation, but one could follow the gist by telltale gestures; a raised eyebrow, a twitch at the corner of a mouth, a hardened stare, lowered lids. Finally, a blink, and Shawn withdrew his fist. Suppressed coughs and clearing throats, the kind of noises that usually followed an awkward moment, drew me from my trance. More guards had joined the group.

The newcomer turned to face the two men holding me. "Let her go."

The guards obeyed but didn't step away.

"She won't run again." His reassurance was directed toward the guards, but he looked at me. He was right. I wouldn't. Not until I had a better plan, at least. I let my eyes meet his. They were striking; pools of green that caused me to take a sharp breath in. I forced my gaze away and shook my head as if to clear it. There were more suppressed coughs and a few shuffling feet around us. He was still looking at me, expecting some kind of, I don't know, introduction maybe?

I raised my hand in a half-wave. Eyes downcast, I said, "Hey." I wasn't about to thank him, and they apparently already knew my name.

"Hey, yourself." A connection, however small, was established through our shared inability to converse. It was enough to ease some of the tension. Ignoring the anxious looks of the rest of the guards, he took the time to give me more information than anyone else cared to, "I am Micah."

He waited long enough for Shawn to leave the pack and disappear into the building. I would have been grateful except that Micah apparently intended for me to go in the same direction. He motioned for me to follow. I hesitated but had little choice. I walked, with the circle of guards stepping forward as I did. The careful coordination of their pace to mine was too much to resist and I stopped mid-stride to take a sudden step backwards. Some of them froze in place, some stepped back and some having not seen me at all kept going. It was a fine mess and resulted in several collisions. They had a long way to go before they could hit the big time.

My laughter was cut short by Micah's chiding, raised eyebrow, but as we walked a quick glance up revealed his poorly hidden smile.
Chapter 4

Needed

After escorting me back to the building I had fought so hard to leave, Micah relinquished control of my arm to the guards, who weren't nearly as gentle. Gripping hard enough to cause bruising, they half-dragged me to a basement room resembling a lab with pristine, white floors and walls, hard fluorescent lighting, and pungent smells strong enough to give me an instant headache. Long tables containing microscopes, computers, and beakers with various colored liquids filled the room. One chair stood alone in the center. They shackled my arms and legs to it. Before I could even test the sturdiness of my bonds, the guards shuffled out and a large team of medics sporting long white coats moved in, taking their various stations in the lab. It was so well choreographed that I half expected them to break into a show tune on cue.

Truthfully, a Broadway performance would have been preferable. Without a word, they began typing away on computers, mixing mysterious concoctions, and they were all very effectively ignoring me.

"Who are you?" No response, not even from the women, whom I'd thought might have some compassion.

"Where am I?" Someone dropped a beaker. There was a lot of commotion to get it cleaned up but no one clamored to answer my questions.

One of the medics walked toward me with a long, ominous syringe. "What is that? Don't put that in – OW!" I flexed my leg muscles, trying to work out the pain left behind on the inside of my thigh. "You could have at least bought me dinner first!" Again, ignored. Several more walked toward me armed with more syringes, vials, and spotless, shiny metal instruments. The only interest they had in me was which vein produced the most blood for extraction or where they could stick the next injection, none of which let me fall into a deep blissful sleep. The hours began to blend together until I was unsure if it was day or night.

When they finally did start speaking to me, it was a barrage of personal questions. Normally I would have been tight-lipped but any acknowledgement of my existence was music to my ears. Of course the sleep deprivation and possible drugs coursing through my system may have made the interrogations all the more dream-like.

"No. I don't _hate_ your _pants_." A Cyclops loomed over me, drilling me about his wardrobe. A bucket of cold water sloshed over me.

I squinted my eyes and focused; the face at least had two eyes now.

"No, no. I asked if you can remember your _Great Aunt's_ middle name." He threw his arms in the air. "This is pointless, she is too wasted." He stormed back to his workstation. "Collins! How many cc's did you give her?"

My answers wouldn't have been any more help with a clear head. I knew very little about my lineage. My family tree was no giant sequoia; it was more like a squash. The Alder roots didn't go very deep, so far as I knew.

After more unsuccessful interrogations, they began to apply an earthy-smelling concoction to my wrist, ankle, ribs and the various bumps and bruises that covered my body. It didn't take long to realize how quickly I recovered from my injuries. Most of my bruises were already yellow and on the verge of disappearing altogether. Johnson and Johnson would have paid a fortune for that stuff.

The medics untied my straps a few times to allow me to use a bathroom connected to the lab. I was afforded no privacy. The need to pee left me indifferent. I came back from one such trip to find a garbage bag of old clothes in my chair.

"So, what. I'm staying?" A medic dumped the clothes out on the floor and walked away without responding.

Shrugging, I began to sort through the clothes. I picked up a shirt with armpit stains and wrinkled my nose in disgust, "These smell." I realized I was still wearing the black, cotton lycra pants and matching race-back sports bra from the avalanche, which were now torn and admittedly smelled worse than anything from the bag. I managed to come up with shorts and a t-shirt two sizes too big, but at least they didn't have any stains. There were several items singed with burn marks.

I changed into the new clothes in the middle of the room, which earned a few fleeting looks. Those that I caught peeking went quickly back to their work after one nervous glance up in the corner of the room. I followed their gaze and saw, for the first time, a small video camera rotating slowly back and forth. _Well, that is new._

A loud buzzer echoing through the room caused me to jump to my feet. One of the medics walked over to open the door. Temporary hopes of a possible escape opportunity were quickly dashed as Micah entered the room and locked the door behind him. I didn't want to test this one quite yet; not until I felt stronger and a little less druggy. He didn't acknowledge me but I kept my eyes glued on him as he walked around the room, consulting with the medical team and reading over their notes, lab results, ordering more tests, blah, blah, blah.

Finding him to be no immediate threat, I looked away and instead searched for a small weapon I could hide on me while everyone seemed to be distracted.

"I wouldn't do that." Micah's voice, soft as it was, startled me. He was standing not two feet away.

I jumped and recovered too slowly, "Do what?"

He looked at me with his hand on his hip, as if debating whether or not to elaborate. "Never mind. Here."

He placed a paper plate with one small sandwich on the floor in between us. I didn't hesitate; I was starving and had he been any closer I would have shoved him back to get to the food. The meat was too thin and dry, but it tasted like heaven. He watched as I gulped down the sandwich in three bites, then inspected the plate for crumbs. Finished, I realized what I must have looked like, kneeling at his feet practically begging for nourishment in any form. I wasn't going to give him or anyone here the satisfaction. _Starting now_.

Wiping my mouth, I cleared my throat and stood. I walked over to the chair that kept me hostage for so long, and took a deep breath. _Nothing will faze me_. I sat down, crossed my legs and began toying with one of the straps that had chaffed my wrist raw. "So, Micah – like the stone?"

"Yes, like the stone." His expression matched his name. He walked toward one wall of the lab, keeping his distance, and leaned against it. His posture was misleading. The muscles on his forearms, tense with well-defined lines gave him away. He was ready for action. _But why?_

We remained in silence, stealing quick glances at each other. The awkward tension only increased each time one of us was caught mid-stare.

He was rough-looking, but handsome. Passing him on the street any other day I would have pegged him as a blue-collared worker, with a couple days worth of stubble on his upper lip, cheeks and chin and short hair that seemed like it would be unkempt if only a little longer. He looked just a few years older than me, but the deep lines etched in his face could have rivaled those of my late father's.

Our eyes continued to play hide and seek, darting in for a quick look, then out again. Neither of us turned our heads away; that would have been considered backing down, as silly as it was. Finally, we caught each other at the right moment, and once we did, it wasn't easy to let go. His eyes were still a startling color of green. They were hypnotizing, holding me hostage more effectively than the bonds I toyed with. An Afghan refugee girl who famously graced the cover of the 1985 June issue of National Geographic had similar eyes. I kept the photograph tucked away in my camera bag and referred to it whenever I shot people, always attempting to capture the same breathtaking effect. Her eyes emanated a strength that endured the hardships of a war-torn country and would endure whatever else the world would throw her way with dignity and grace. I saw the same magic in his eyes, though there was nothing feminine about it. They exuded warmth that invited you in but were hardened enough to keep you humble during your stay. What I would have given to photograph him as a farmer hard at work in his field. Or maybe in a coal mine – his eyes would have glowed in contrast to the murky shadows of the dirty tunnels.

Of course, his involvement with my kidnapping severed any potential working relationship. _His loss_. I cleared my throat and attempted to negotiate my freedom, "So, what is it you want from me? Money? That can be arranged..."

"This isn't about money, Kaitlyn." He looked bored of the negotiations already.

"My blood? They've already taken plenty of it."

He yawned, "We didn't bring you here to kill you."

_Okay, different tactic._ "I would appreciate some information here. There will be people looking for me. My dog needs to be taken care of."

"You have no pets; and no one will be looking for you." Micah appeared to be well engaged in cleaning his fingernails, and I was getting irritated.

"I do have a life to get back to, you know."

He raised his eyebrow at me as if he knew I was fibbing.

"Well, I do. I have....I have..."

"Yes?"

I pulled my shoulders back. "I have plants that need watering."

He actually laughed.

_Time to up my game._ "My father has some very powerful connections in the FBI. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they already found me." I stood up to face him full on and raised my voice, "If you don't let me go, _right now_ , I will..."

"Your parents are dead." The bluntness of his statement shocked me into silence. The 'no pets' could have been just a good guess, but not this. They knew me well.

A look of guilt flashed across his eyes , but it was gone before I could be sure. His stony expression resumed its proper place.

After several deep, calming breaths, I spoke again, "Why am I here?"

"You are here, Kaitlyn, because you are needed."

_Needed._ Hearing that word come from him sent chills down my spine. It was menacing, foreboding, and exciting all at once.

"Needed, how?" I asked

"That explanation is best left for others to give."

I let out an exasperated sigh and started pacing the room. "Well what explanations _can_ you give me? How do you know my name? How did you find me in the middle of an avalanche? When do you plan on letting me leave?"

He didn't address any of my questions. "Your apartment has been taken care of," he said. "The plants were donated to an elementary school and everything else is in storage. Final bills have been paid and your mail has been put on hold."

"My, my....what? You were in my apartment?" I stuttered. The skin on the back of my neck prickled. Somehow every single private aspect of my life was attended to by captors I didn't know. The invasion was more disturbing than the fact that I was kidnapped at all. "What in the hell is going on?"

He studied my reaction, considered it, and moved on. "I did bring you one thing from home." He reached into his cargo pocket and produced a small, very well-used notebook. "Interesting stuff in here. You might want to take the time to revisit it."

He set it on a table by the door, and left the room without glancing back. The door swung shut, and three loud beeps echoed through the room. I took a few steps closer until two very distinct words in my handwriting were visible. _Dream Log._

I picked up the book and turned to the door, still closed tight, "You just stay out of my..." I glanced at a pair of used, stained pants lying on top of the pile of clothes on the floor, "...head!"

Neither the door or the person on the other side responded. I huffed, then returned to my chair, hugging the book to my chest.

Chapter 5

Tree Huggers

There was more blood work, followed by a jaunt on a treadmill long enough to let me know I was in decent shape. Lugging that heavy camera pack around the world apparently did my body good. Guards escorted me back to the 'white' room, which now came complete with a barred window, and left me alone. Without even checking to see if the door was locked behind me, I collapsed on the bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

What felt like five minutes later, I was awoken by a rough shake of my shoulder. "Kaitlyn, wake up. Wake up!"

I turned, eyes not opened to more than a squint, seeing Micah's blurred face. I groaned, threw a pillow over my head and went back to convincing myself this was all a bad dream. A very long, bad dream.

He only shook me harder. "Come on, you've been sleeping for 12 hours now."

"And before that I was awake for 72, so let me sleep for another 12," I said through the pillow. "Or better yet – go kidnap someone else. I've got no more blood to donate to your cause. Whatever _that_ is."

"There is food," Micah said.

That did get my attention. I was starving. Reluctantly, I gave in and got out of the bed, my growling stomach leading the way.

Micah walked out of the room, motioning for me to follow. We went up a flight of stairs and into a spacious, commercial-looking kitchen. It felt weird to be walking around without guards. It felt weird to be walking around at all, instead of being tethered to a hard, straight back chair. He didn't give me time to adjust, instead leading me to a small table with two stools and a plate with nothing more than a sandwich and sliced oranges. My stomach growled. It still looked like a feast to me. I dived in, swallowing the food in huge gulps, sputtering a bit after each bite.

The plate empty, I finally straightened.

"Won't you sit down?" he asked, sarcastically cordial as I realized I hadn't even taken the time to do that.

I slowly sank into the chair. "Is there any more food?"

Micah walked over to a refrigerator, almost bare of food, and pulled out the fixings for another sandwich. "Mayo? Mustard?"

"Yes – both." The more calories I could get my hands on, the better.

I couldn't take my eyes off his hands as he made the sandwich. Deeply tanned and wrinkled, they showed evidence of long hours outside. His knuckles were knobby and his palms calloused.

"Are you okay?" Micah stood over me with a new plate of food. His eyes had the usual effect. I couldn't pull myself away, even to take the plate from him. I was still staring and miscalculated the distance. Our hands brushed. A spark jumped from his skin to mine, and the heat traveled straight to my core, warming me.

"Yes." I cleared my throat and with a monumental effort, and broke our gaze. I set the plate down in front of me slowly, trying to regain my composure. After years of a stubborn resistance to people in general, the alienation caused a simple brush of hands to leave me aching for more skin to skin contact, in any form. Once, I had gone so far as to buy a dress two sizes too big, just so I could go to the old Vietnamese seamstress who owned a shop down the street and feel her hands working the seams of the dress. Paying for a massage did come to mind as a less insane option, but it didn't have the same effect as the indifferent handling of her gentle pinches, smoothing, and firm tugging I felt through the fabric. Afterwards, I recalled with a growing sickness what I had to do for the intimate contact every human body craved. Yet, I made it an annual tradition. As my wardrobe of perfectly fitted, unused dresses grew, I was able to curb any desire for close contact with a once per year treat.

Micah would be the undoing of such careful, thought out control. I stared hard at the sandwich, willing myself not to look up at him again, lest my thoughts show on my face. A green, furry spot on the bread came into focus. I grimaced. _Distraction achieved._ "This bread is moldy."

He shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned, "The Seven doesn't have a lot of funding. We take what we can get."

"The Seven?" I tore off the bad part and studied the rest for any more mold. Satisfied, I finished the sandwich in three bites.

"The Seven is what we call our organization."

Before I could question him further, he removed my empty plate, replacing it with a granola bar and juice box. "You can eat this on the way, there's someone you need to meet." With that he left the kitchen and I had no choice but to follow with my snack, happy as a preschooler. I was grateful his back was to me instead of those dangerous eyes. Despite myself, I continued staring at his hands, trying to think up some small accident that might cause them to reach out to me again.

What is wrong with me?

Micah was like a drug – a very good drug. The kind that prowled the streets of Seattle, enticing young and old, weak and strong. The addiction had no preference in victims so long as they succumbed.

I shook off the thought. _Yes_. _A very dangerous man, that one. Keep telling yourself that._

We walked down a long hallway to a double doorway at the end. Micah pushed the doors open and I paused to look at the intricate carvings in the wood. There were a number of Celtic knots looping and weaving their way around the edge of the doors, and the same strange symbol in the center of each.

"Carved them myself out of reclaimed wood," Micah said. He traced the strange symbol with his finger. "This is the Spiral of Life; it is drawn from a single line with no beginning or end."

"Hmm." I tried to appear interested, but the last drops of grape juice were good at evading the straw.

He eventually snapped himself out of it and pushed me forward into the room.

I looked around, absorbing as much as I could. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, most of them sagging under the weight of thousands of books, shoved into every nook and cranny the room had to offer. They covered every available flat surface. Couches, tables, and desks; even the floor had piles of books I had to weave my way past. Topographical maps, oceanography maps, statistical maps, maps of the world, and maps of individual cities throughout the world were strewn over, under, and hanging out from between the books. In the few spaces still available there were globes, microscopes, and jars of what looked like different dirt and water samples. Nothing appeared to be in any sort of order.

I had taken only a few steps into the room, running my finger over a stacked series of battered, yellowing books. No dust. Much of it had been recently used. _Maybe they could curb spending on books and invest in some basic staples of life – like food._

"So where's Waldo?" I turned to Micah, who hadn't moved from the door.

Micah walked forward and took the now empty juice box and granola bar wrappings from me. I heard someone clear their throat softly from the far end of the room. I glanced back at Micah, unsure. He waved me forward. At Micah's urging, I walked toward the sound, noting the number of windows in the room as possible escape routes. Navigating my way through the mess, I often found myself at a dead end and had to turn to seek out another path, only to end up at another dead end. _Forget this, I'd be caught in the maze before I could find my way to the windows._

Finally, after circling around an especially tall pile of books, I approached an elderly man sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, taking notes from one of several open books in front of him. He looked up at my approach and stood, brushing dirt off his lap. His long silver hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, and might have been considered dignified if it weren't for loose, frazzled strands floating about his grungy face. He moved slowly, like a great weight was on him, making him appear older than his face seemed to portray; wrinkles ornamented his eyes, the only flaw on otherwise firm, smooth skin. His assessment of me went twice as quickly, and he turned to Micah, still at the entrance of the door to dismiss him.

As the most familiar thing to me in this place left, I fought back the urge to protest as an odd feeling of betrayal bubbled up.

"Don't worry, I won't bite," the old man said. His eyes, a dull blue going lucent with age, barely glanced at me, but obviously he didn't miss a thing. "My name is Cato."

His name could've very well been Einstein, with his scraggly white hair. "I'm Kaitlyn," I replied, not knowing what else to say.

"I know," he said, winking at me before moving books off a couple of worn, beaten chairs. "Please, have a seat; I'm sure you have many questions."

"Yeah, sure, lots. Like, ever heard of a computer?" Appropriately, I managed to bump into yet another stack of books, nearly knocking them over. I hurried to steady the stack.

"Never really trusted them. Besides, so many trees were destroyed to create all these old books – I can't let them be wasted."

"Does that same concern for trees perhaps extend toward human life?" I turned from the books to him.

"I apologize for the sudden manner in which you were taken. You have to understand, it had to happen this way. There was no other choice."

My eyes flashed. "I don't think _you_ quite understand. In the past days, I have been starved, sleep-deprived, interrogated, not to mention almost killed!" I paused to take a breath, realizing that I was standing directly in front of the old man shaking my finger at him like I was scolding a three year old. "Why am I here?" My last remark resonated from the walls. An eerie silence followed.

Cato just stood there staring at the floor, perhaps giving me time to compose myself. I took a deep breath. "I am thankful to have been rescued from the mountainside," I said, speaking through gritted teeth, "but then again, I have no reason not to believe your men created the avalanche in the first place. Anyway, I fail to see how this couldn't have been handled better."

Cato smiled at me, "You are too impatient, Kaitlyn. You always have been." He watched my reaction. I said nothing, stepped back, and inevitably hit another stack of books. I let this one fall. A piece of loose paper from the top landed on my foot. It was a handwritten letter with a very familiar signature at the bottom.

"G," I said.

"What?" He leaned over looking at the paper I held.

After my parents died, I had occasionally received letters from a man signing them 'G'. One on my birthday and one on Christmas, at the very least. I'd always ignored them. I looked up at him. "You are my Godfather?"

About a year ago, the letters began arriving more frequently; once or twice a month. His tone also became more and more pressing as he urged me to make arrangements to visit him or at least write back. I had no intention of writing, calling, or visiting a man who decided to start a relationship once my parents, the only link between us, was gone. Besides, I had suspicions that his urgent matter might have something to do with the large sum of money they left behind. It has been sitting in a bank account, untouched, for 13 years now. Since their loss, I couldn't bring myself to use it. Bank statements went unopened and I hadn't yet set up the online access. It just felt wrong that I should benefit from their deaths, and hell if I was going to let anyone else. I had a sudden, sinking feeling, "Is this about the money?"

"No," he said, "this isn't about the money. But yes, I am your Godfather - as I stated in all the letters I sent to you over the years. And that isn't a G, it is a C, for Cato."

I suppressed the urge to apologize for the failure to respond to his letters, but stammered out an excuse nonetheless, "I – I – didn't know..."

"No need to apologize."

"I wasn't —"

"These are all letters from your parents to me." He interrupted before I could defend myself. "They spent a lot of time writing about you."

He handed me a stack of letters held together by a thick rubber band, then leaned over and put his hand over mine. "I am deeply sorry for your loss, they were great people."

I unfolded the first letter, instantly recognizing my mother's handwriting. Neat and flowery, she took a lot of pride in her script and always nagged that I should do the same. She was writing about a camping trip; I remembered it well. During this particular trip I had become adept at lighting and maintaining campfires. My father gave me a short lesson, then put me, and me alone, in charge of the fire. We'd no heat or cooking flame for two days, and I could swear my mom was on the verge of strangling him. Once I did figure it out, the pride on his face combined with my mom's relieved hug was well worth the wait. Her description of the event was so detailed and well written, I could almost feel the heat on my face from the flames that flickered across her words.

"How come..." My voice cracked and I cleared my throat as I sat down in a chair. "How come you didn't just come to see me? There was no need for all of this." I folded the letter as carefully as if they were her last words to me.

He sat down, too. "I apologize for that. It isn't necessarily easy for me to leave this place. When it became essential to bring you here, we didn't have the time for explanations. But I want you to know that you were never alone after your parents passed. I've always had someone looking after you. Which hasn't been easy, considering how much you move around."

"Thank you, I guess..." I trailed off, then sighed. "You still haven't answered anything."

"All right then, let's dive right into the big question then, shall we? Why are you here?" He paused, making it seem half as though he expected me to answer my own question. I hesitantly opened my mouth before he started again with a reassuring smile. "To put it bluntly, I lead a movement whose ultimate goal is to save the earth."

I raised an eyebrow, "Save the earth? You mean like, recycling? Or are we talking flying superheroes?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "A little of both, perhaps. We work to protect, conserve, and provide balance to the planet and its ecosystems."

"It all sounds very hippie." I stopped his explanation. "Is it some kind of cult?"

"It is a way of life," he said. "An awareness of the world in which you are living. We cannot be everywhere at once, so we concentrate on Earth's most immediate threat. Our mission is to prevent global devastation, and when time allows we promote ways to respect the environment."

"I'm sorry, but it's hard to imagine any of these goons you have collecting trash on the side of a highway."

"You'd be surprised at what they can do. Take this compound, for example. We call it the Chakra. My men all helped to build it as a completely self-sustaining compound, except for the occasional food import. We produce all our own electricity through a solar panel farm on the property and a wind turbine out back. The water comes from a natural spring. This place never needs heating or air conditioning because the building is oriented with the long axis running east and west rather than north and south to promote solar heating gains in the winter and reduce solar gains in the summer. The basement vents are opened when it gets hot, allowing air currents cooled by the stone floor to flow through the rest of the house. It's a very efficient cooling system."

"So... you're some sort of tree-hugging cult?" I asked.

He laughed at my question, but I gave him a look that meant business. I wasn't asking for a save-the-Earth lecture.

"It is more than just hugging trees," he said. "It has to do with the universe. It is understanding it, communicating with it, taking from it, and giving back. Which is where _you_ come in."

"I still don't follow," I said, the tone of my voice cold.

"Let me show you something." Cato stood up and led me further into the room, weaving around stacks of books. I looked down, only half concentrating on keeping my footing in the mess, and half debating if I should turn tail and run. It was the whole 'giving back to the universe' that had me on edge. Distracted, I hadn't realized he had stopped and I ran square into his back. He stepped to the side and my apology died in my throat. A giant tree loomed in front of me.

I stammered, "Is this where I start the hugging?"

He laughed, "Of sorts."

Although it wasn't giant, as far as trees go, it dominated the room, and how I didn't notice it already was anyone's guess. The thick, dark brown trunk supported a massive amount of branches, the lowest of which were too high for my reach. Each branch had a myriad of vibrant, green leaves. The color of Micah's eyes, I noticed. The leaves shimmered with even more enthusiasm the further up I looked. Raising my gaze all the way to the ceiling, I saw an open skylight letting in the hot afternoon sun and a gentle breeze. The duo worked together to give the leaves the magical effect I perceived from way down below. The fresh scent enticed me to breathe in deeply; I was grateful for the break from the overpowering smell of musty, old books.

Cato turned toward the tree and knelt on the floor, lifting the carpet up where the trunk protruded from the ground. Dipping his hands underneath it, they re-emerged with a fistful of dirt.

"There is only a carpet separating this room from the earth below us; I like to be as close to nature as possible without subjecting my research to the elements." He paused. "Though it does pose quite a problem for keeping rodents out."

"If you want to embrace nature it's got to be all or nothing." I mimicked the nasally voice of my fruit-cake middle school English teacher; an environmental nut.

He smiled wryly and gestured for my hand. I let him have it. Dirt slid from his palm into my own. As I cupped my hand to prevent any from seeping out, I felt small electrical charges, almost like little shocks. It wasn't painful; just pure energy.

"It's like pop rocks!" The phrase was out of my mouth before I could think.

He nodded in agreement, "Remarkable, I know." He transferred his own bit of dirt from one hand to another. "And that's only the beginning – let me show you something else." He picked up a small twig from the ground and turned my hand over. Using the stick, he scratched me.

"Ow!" I pulled my hand away. Small trickles of blood made streaks down my hand.

"Rub some of that dirt in the scratch."

I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He offered no explanation. Slowly, I obliged. The sting of the cut ceased almost right away as did the bleeding. A small amount of foam bubbled out from the cut and each time I wiped it away, more appeared. The cut itself seemed to become smaller and less pronounced.

"The ministrations applied to you over the past few days were nothing more than mud from the surrounding grounds."

"Are you serious?" I asked, eyes wide.

He nodded, "Let me start with the basics. All matter vibrates at the molecular level. The vibrations emit energy waves creating a natural frequency, which varies depending on the object's size, shape, and composition."

"This is the basics?"

He ignored me. "Some people are more sensitive to these frequencies than others. You are one of them. Subconsciously, you have been absorbing energy from this land. This is one of few places on Earth with a particular frequency that synchronizes with your own energy waves. _That_ is why we call it the Chakra. Chakras are energy centers on the human body. They are focal points for receiving or giving energy – just like this particular land. You can become dangerously strong, quick, and smart here. Which is why we've taken such strict security measures."

I very much wanted to believe. I'd felt it, particularly during my fight with the guards. But, for all I knew they could have been pumping me with steroids. I looked from my hand back up to Cato. "Does this happen with you?"

"Yes, Kaitlyn. Me, you, and very few others."

I looked back down at my cut. It didn't heal completely, but my skin was slowly knitting itself back together. It would be smoothed over by morning. It could be possible. _Possible? Hell, it was happening before my very eyes. Perhaps the rest of what he was saying had some truth to it._

Cato's voice lowered, and a shadow crossed his face. "There are downfalls, however. This is one of only a handful of places around the world where we can feed off of the earth. Everywhere else, the earth feeds off of us. It takes an incredible amount of energy for us to be anywhere but here."

I shook my head. "I don't think I've ever been to a place like this, and I've never had a problem."

"That is not necessarily true. You have been on iron pills your entire life. You drink a lot of caffeine and energy drinks - sometimes just to get through a normal day. Not only that, but I imagine you sleep often, much more than the average eight hours a night."

I slowly conceded his points, nodding for him to continue.

"I know, Kaitlyn, because that is what life is like for me, outside of here." Cato slipped the last line in under his breath. "It gets worse, though. The energy that you exude into the elements can sometimes cause problems. You have no doubt experienced natural disasters around the world. It is not just that you are unlucky, but you caused them. That avalanche was very much you. You have to be taught control. That is what we intend to do with you here."

"Wait. That's not possible. That means I was responsible for what must be hundreds of deaths."

Cato didn't respond.

I raised my voice. "Hello? Did you hear what I said? You're wrong."

He lowered his voice, "Kaitlyn, do you really believe the tornados, floods, and hurricanes were just coincidences? No one has that much bad luck."

"So what, you knew and you just let it continue to happen?"

"As it turns out, had events been handled any other way, there was potential for even more destruction."

I felt sick to my stomach as his words sank in. He was right, no one had that bad of luck – except everyone who lost their life during those disasters. My stomach dropped straight to the floor. "I killed them?"
Chapter 6

Redemption

Cato looked down, speaking softly. "Maybe indirectly. You were in India when the cyclone hit a few years back, correct?"

"I was in Orissa on a photography assignment." I said. "They have incredible wildlife sanctuaries."

A low grumbling of thunder sounded in the distance. Cato cocked his ear as if judging the intensity of the oncoming squall, but his eyes were on me. "A storm is moving in. Time to batten up the hatches." He gestured to the open windows. "We should continue our conversation another time." He took my arm in his, leaving no room for argument as he pulled me back toward the door.

"Beautiful tigers. The locals loved them. I stayed with a family who had a young son. He liked to paint the tigers. They speak English pretty well there, you know." I was babbling, acutely aware of the fire inside me, growing with the approaching storm. The thunder got louder and rain began to fall. "That little boy, Adil, he was killed by the cyclone."

Cato retrieved a walkie-talkie that was clipped to his back pocket, never letting go of my arm. The walkie-talkie clicked. "Get Micah in here, quick."

"Adil means 'sincere'. That's what his mother told me." The wind picked up outside and the rain fell harder. "At the funeral."

I stopped walking, breaking free of Cato's grip, "He would be alive now if I never took that assignment."

Cato reach for me again, "It wasn't your fault."

"I know." I slapped away his hand. The storm softened a little outside and everything went silent. I whispered, "It was your fault."

My insides hummed with energy as grief turned to anger. I focused, making an effort to channel the power and tune in to the storm. It was chaotic; waves buzzed out and were pulled back, like the surf on a rocky coastline, only not nearly so predictable. Manipulating the energy came easy to me, as if I'd done it my whole life. Probably had, just not so...intentional.

I raised my pitch and synchronized with the elements of air and water. The storm raced in at full force. Windows blew all the way open, shattering against the walls. Hair whipped around my face, impeding my vision, but my gaze never left the old man. He tried side-stepping around me, looking anxiously at the door. He wasn't getting off the hook that easy. I closed in on him, grabbing his arm. A twist of his wrist at a painful upward angle turned him around. I stepped on the back of his knee, forcing him to the floor. "Why didn't you get me before now? All of this could have been avoided! You knew, and you just let me float from place to place, destroying lives!"

Cato yelled into the walkie-talkie with his free hand, "Hurry! Send Micah!" He looked up at me, still yelling over the noise of the storm, "Control yourself, Kaitlyn! Calm down! We weren't sure until a few years ago. A Gaia's powers don't come until later in life. I can explain it all!"

"Explain? It's too late for explanations! It won't bring Adil back, it won't bring my parents back, it won't help anything!" The hard rain pelted our faces, pouring through the open window. Loose papers took off, flying everywhere.

Suddenly the wind shifted. I looked over my shoulder to see the large double door fly open. Micah stood in the entrance. I let loose a growl so shocking that deep down I thought it had to be the thunder. "I'm not finished here." My voice boomed in his direction. He just looked at me, stunned. I expanded my frequency, matching that of the wind, and forced it toward the intruder. It shifted again, slamming the door in Micah's face.

Cato was still bent over in front of me. Hail fell now. The large room echoed with each piece of ice that hit the roof. Wind came through the open windows and skylight, powerful enough to send glass and the smaller books soaring across the room. Adrenaline raced through me at a level I hadn't known existed. I was swept up in a cycle of more and more anger, more energy, more power. I let go of Cato. He stood and turned to face me, wavering. The storm picked up larger books now, making them dangerous missiles shooting through the room either breaking or knocking down everything else. And I stood still. The storm avoided me. Cato wasn't as safe. Books constantly barraged him, slamming into his head, chest, and stomach. The thought of Cato hurt by his own precious books made me smile.

"Are you close enough to nature, now?" I screamed at him. "Do you think this is how Adil felt in the cyclone?"

"Stop her!" Cato yelled to someone behind me. It didn't matter. All of my attention was on Cato. I felt invincible. Nobody could hurt me now. An especially large chunk of hail flew through an open window, pelting Cato in the back of the head. Trickles of blood seeped from various wounds, mixing with the rain, giving his skin an eerie red tint.

I was so focused on Cato, I didn't react when someone stepped in between us. Micah moved directly in front of me, so close that he was protected from the makeshift missiles. He was yelling at me, shaking me by the shoulders. There was an annoying buzzing in my head. In response, the storm grew stronger and the noise inside my brain was drowned out by the sound of wind, rain, and hail. I laughed.

Micah's hands moved from my shoulders to my waist. Our eyes met; his jaw line was tense, determined. His hands tightened around my sides, and he pulled me into him. My chin lifted; his lips crushed my own.

The same static shock I felt earlier was there again; only now ten times stronger. It fizzled throughout my veins, causing my muscles to contract, raising my body temperature until I was sure I would burst into flames.

The storm raged around us, and Micah fed off of it. His intensity grew and grew, matching the strength of the storm. I didn't have time to understand. I might have expected a fight, but not this. His insistent tongue forced its way into my mouth and he delivered sharp bites to my lips. His hold around my waist was tight, painful, and the more I tried to pull away, the more vigorous he became. The wind swirled around us and its attempts to come between us just pressed us closer together.

Realizing he was turning even fiercer than the storm, I relented. I willed my body to relax into his arms, coaxing him away from brutality. The hail stopped. Micah loosened his hold around my waist, but didn't completely let go. The fizzling inside of me settled into a tranquil hum. The wind died down to a mild breeze, caressing our bodies and Micah's kiss turned gentle, his lips embracing spots bruised by his assault just seconds ago.

Reality rushed back, and in a way, was more vicious than the storm. My anger was focused on Cato, but I was responsible for thousands of deaths and vast amounts of damage as I carelessly pranced around the world. I was a villain, a terrorist. Lex Luthor. Hitler. The Anti-Christ.

I had amazing powers, I had to accept that. But what would they do for me? Look what they had already done. I was a kidnapped orphan, who just finished terrorizing an old man. I pulled away from Micah, wrapping my arms around my waist and crumpling in on myself. I needed redemption. I looked back up at him.

He shook his head and wiped away the wet strands of hair from my face, "This isn't about you – it is much bigger than that." I think he saw the desperation in my eyes. Wrinkles creased his forehead. "What can I do, what do you need?"

What I needed was to be wanted in a world I no longer felt a part of. More than that, I needed to be desired, loved in spite of my faults. I needed something, or someone, to fill the void that had been empty far too long. I said it as best as I could with three words. "Kiss me again."

He obliged, brushing his lips across mine. I parted my mouth, inviting him in. We were oblivious to the medical staff running in to assist Cato, and to the gasps of terror, or maybe awe, or possibly both, when each new person entered the room. With one arm still around my waist, Micah led me away from the crowd and the disaster I had created, down the length of the house, and into his room.
Chapter 7

Deviant

"You ok, old man?" Shawn asked, as he entered Cato's private room.

Cato grimaced as the medics treated lacerations on his forehead, arms, and feet with antiseptic, then mud. "I've had worse, though not in recent years."

Shawn nodded, running his finger over the spines of books on Cato's shelf. "I told you so."

Cato narrowed his eyes at Shawn, "Don't start, _young man_."

Shawn turned abruptly, treating Cato's warning as bait. "You shouldn't have brought her here."

Cato sighed, eyeing Shawn as the medics finished with the last of the bandages, "Would you all give us some privacy?" He removed the blood pressure cuff, "Please – I am fine. I just need to rest."

The medics nodded as they packed up and left, the last one closing the door to leave Cato and Shawn alone.

Cato took a deep breath, preparing for a conversation they've had far too many times. "The doctrine says –"

"I know what the doctrine says," Shawn interrupted. "I was raised on it. But that thing was written a long time ago. Much of what it says doesn't apply to the present."

Cato stood, "The doctrine is not to be questioned! It can and it will apply to us, and everyone that comes after us. It has proven its worth."

Shawn threw his hands up in the air, "Why can't you see how much simpler things would be?"

Cato walked over to Shawn, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Why can't _you_ see that this is the only way to maintain balance?" His hand gripped Shawn tighter. "Please, son. The Seven can be miraculous. A Gaia to bring peace, the Ardwyad her protector, and you, her Medwin, to regulate her powers."

Cato stepped away and sat down in his armchair, slowly, "And of course the leader, yours truly, the Rais." He hung his head, and rubbed at his eyes. "My strength is waning, son. I'll need someone to step up soon. A Rais, one powerful enough to control her..." Cato took a deep breath, "...but as the doctrine intends. Deviation leads to devastation."

Shawn turned his back, blocking out the pleas by the man who raised him. "If you just give me a chance to show you. I've begun to acquire the same powers of a Gaia, like you have."

"That takes years, even decades to absorb that kind of power. It has taken me a lifetime, Shawn."

"I've found a place that increases my strength. It allows me to absorb the powers faster."

Cato now looked at Shawn with sad eyes. He had seen contempt for the organization in the boy even in his early days. Cato was mistakenly under the impression he could force change into Shawn. Years and years of working with the boy, educating him on The Seven's history, revealing to him secrets that would have otherwise been lost, and special training sessions he didn't give the other kids. After all of that, they were back at square one. He would make that mistake no longer.

"I'm sorry, son. There is just no way you can recreate the strength and the affinity a Gaia has with the elements. You alone could not bring the balance Earth needs."

Shawn refused to listen to reason, "We can recruit more Elementals. Bring them here, train them to work in circles."

Cato shook his head, "We've been over this. To maintain control we must keep the group small. Besides, how do you suppose we would fund all that?"

Shawn paced with excitement, "The Seven for hire. People will pay for rain, or to divert storms, whatever the case may be. We can do that."

"No, no, no." Cato stood up. "Protect, conserve, balance." He counted off on his fingers. "This is what we do for Earth. We are not a for profit agency. This has been drilled into you from day one. You live and breathe this stuff – I do not, for the life of me, understand how you can deviate."

Shawn went silent. He walked over to Cato's desk, picking up the small glass globe, used as a paperweight, from its base. He began to play with the globe, rotating it in one of his hands.

Cato knew his words fell on deaf ears, but he continued anyway, "Besides, Kaitlyn is the strongest Gaia I've ever encountered. Possibly the strongest in history."

At those words, the globe in Shawn's hands went still.

Cato didn't notice, "Handled appropriately, she can make a real difference."

"What did you say?" Shawn asked.

"Handled approp– "

"No. Before that."

Cato hesitated, "I said she could be the strongest Gaia the Earth has ever seen."

"Right. And if I had that strength..."

"But you don't."

"You are right, old man." Shawn walked toward the door, placing the globe in Cato's hands as he passed. "I don't..."
Chapter 8

Fast Enough

My eyes fluttered open to the sound of a shower running and a deep voice humming a muffled tune. _Dad?_ Couldn't be, unless I was dreaming. I pinched my leg. _Definitely awake._ I shot straight up in bed. Micah! Did we? No. My clothes were still on. Wide awake now, I tried running my hands through my hair. One was stopped short, metal clinking as my wrist jerked. I was handcuffed to the bed. I heard Micah's humming over the shower again. Now it only annoyed me. Despite the intimate kissing, I was still trapped here like a caged animal. _Guess I wasn't that great of a date._

I looked around his room. It was messy, and lacked any sort of decorating attempt, but it smelled like him. I frowned. I ran my tongue over my lips, which were still recovering from his bites. The sting was painful but sparked warmth deep in my belly. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment. I'm glad he didn't take it any further; had I not been so exhausted, I don't think I would've stopped myself. Claiming to have been drunk with power would have been a convenient excuse the morning after.

I spotted my dream log on the bedside table; Micah must have brought it to me. I reached for it with my free hand and flipped to the last page, anxious to fill my mind with something other than dirty thoughts.

* * *

My recurring dream finally concluded last night; it scared me and exhilarated me all at the same time. In my dream there was only silence and darkness. Except for one thing – me. As long as I was still there and aware, there was hope. I began to reach out with my mind for anything else, a tiny glimmer, the slightest speck, and they started to appear. They seemed to materialize from nothing, answering my beckoning call. They all converged in exactly the right way, a perfect way. The creation of air, water, and soil. The creation of all that was good and bad, the creation of animals and plants – and the most special creation of all – life. I know now what I had been searching for – a purpose. My purpose.

* * *

I set the book back down as if it had burnt me, and for the first time was willing to admit there may have been some merit to my dreams. I _was_ needed. With powers like these, my life had to have a higher purpose than photography. But they were still dangerous to myself and anyone around me. Staying here would only lead to trouble. It already had. Yesterday's storm. Cato. I couldn't put anyone else at risk. Maybe I could return as soon as I had my powers under control. Not before.

As I ran my fingers through my hair again, metal chinked and I was abruptly reminded of my imprisonment. _What am I doing?_ _Preening for Micah?_ I wanted to look my best for him, whether he was my captor or my newest fling. _I wonder which will come out of the shower._

The only thing keeping me from the chance at fulfilling my life's purpose was handcuffs. I looked at them, perplexed, and pulled. They didn't budge. I growled at my incompetence. I could correctly judge aperture and shutter speed from a quick glance at surrounding lighting and subject movement. I could extract, develop, apply fixer, and stabilize film in a pitch black dark room in record time. But for all my life experiences, I had no insight in how to escape handcuffs. Perhaps that should have been a required course in high school; home economics, physical education, and escapology. Central High School – cultivating criminals and magicians alike.

I made a futile attempt at rummaging in the drawers of the bedside table with my toes, feeling for a key. After working up a sizeable horse cramp in my leg I gave up. Short of dislocating my thumb, physically forcing myself out of the situation was not an option.

_Not everyone reacts to the elements like you do, Kaitlyn. I should say rather, interacts with the elements._ Cato's words resonated with me.

I could obviously affect wind and rain. Last night had proved that several times over. But could I control the temperature? If the handcuffs were cold enough, frozen over, I could shatter them. The first trick was figuring out how to do it. The next trick would be figuring out how to do it without giving my wrist frostbite.

I shrugged, "No time like the present."

Closing my eyes, I recalled my mother's meditation sessions. I breathed in and out slowly, clearing my mind and forcing my muscles to relax.

"Get cold," I said out loud. Nothing happened.

"Freezificate." Still nothing. _Maybe I need more energy?_ I tried drawing out energy from the earth below me. I found it at a much lower frequency than air or water, but it was done easily enough. I released the energy into the air simultaneously willing it to turn cold. Still nothing. I glanced at the bathroom door. I needed to hurry. Micah could be finished any moment.

Repressing the urge to panic, I thought back to high school science classes. Hot air is caused by active and fast moving air particles; cold air the opposite. Instead of closing my eyes, I left them opened and concentrated on the space around me. I called the earth's energy into my body once again and used it to sharpen my senses. Soon enough, the composition of the air was revealed and the particles slowed, conforming to my will. The temperature of the room chilled. I could see my own breath. But it still wasn't cold enough and I didn't want to freeze myself in the process. A larger but more concentrated jolt of cold air was necessary.

I refocused my energy and sent waves out with ten times the intensity. Something definitely happened, but it was misdirected. I felt the air interacting with a large amount of water that lay well away from me. Focusing even harder, I tried again, trading some intensity for accuracy. My efforts emitted a high-pitched squeal from the shower. I stifled a laugh. It was similar to my dad's yelp while in the shower at our New Jersey home when mom snuck in to flush the toilet.

I had missed the mark again but was significantly closer. I quickly released the energy lest Micah know what I was up to. With pressure mounting, I had to follow through and fast. Third time's a charm. Working out the correct balance of intensity and accuracy, I was finally able to hit my mark and I felt the metal around my wrist turn cold, so cold the skin touching the metal actually burned. I gritted my teeth, putting forth my best effort to endure the pain. I kept the cold coming.

Waiting until I could bear it no longer, I finally slammed my wrist against the headboard. On the first attempt, the metal shattered into tiny slivers that made a satisfying noise as they hit the wall behind me and scattered on the bed and floor below.

I barely took notice of the atmosphere regaining balance, righting itself once free of my energy waves. The squeak of the shower faucet turning off told me I had little time left. I bolted for the door and skid through a turn, racing down the long hallway. The largest swaths of natural light guided me through a spacious living room, and I ran out of a large sliding glass door conveniently left open.

Once outside, I took a moment to consider my escape route. This would probably be my last chance. I was determined to make it work. Quickly discounting the deceiving gardens, I eyed an expansive forested part of the grounds.

"Out for a run?" My train of thought was interrupted by a man I had failed to notice taking in the morning sun until now. "Need some company?"

I looked him over. He was a few years younger, but a full two heads taller, with much longer legs. I tried to talk my way into a plan. "Maybe. How fast are you?"

"Fast enough."

"Good. Shall we?"

"After you." He extended his arm to the green landscape.

Since that seemed to be the end of the pleasantries, I took off like a bat out of hell straight into the trees. His heavy footsteps let me know he wasn't far behind, keeping a steady distance. I considered trying to call for more energy, but he was pacing me, and I didn't want to spare the concentration. He hadn't closed the distance but just as if my thoughts gave him the idea, he bellowed, "We've got a runner!"

I lengthened my stride.

"Twenty bucks I catch you before the lake," my pursuer shouted.

_What lake is he talking about?_ I saw nothing but trees.

"Save your breath. You'll need it," I called, trying to keep my own breathing under control. My lungs were burning as I willed my legs to keep moving. They felt like rubber. I prayed that my injured ankle would hold out.

I burst out of the tree line, and the composition of the ground beneath me changed abruptly. It was now smooth and slick. I was making forward momentum without having to move my legs. The allusive lake had appeared in a most undesirable way. It was completely frozen over. This was the large body of water I encountered in my wildly miscalculated attempt to freeze the handcuffs. I slid, holding my arms out to either side, trying to stay upright. I soon lost control and fell, hard, on my butt. My running mate fell too, and was veering off in another direction. He was no more prepared for it than I.

After skidding to a halt, I stood, gingerly, and heard cracking ice. I froze. There was cracking again, only this time not underneath me, but my pursuer. All too aware of his precarious position, he was similarly frozen on his feet. We faced each other, perhaps twenty feet apart.

"Didn't have any trouble finding the lake, eh?" He forced a smile onto his face, but his voice cracked. Was that a dimple in his right cheek? He was cute, with light brown hair trimmed into a buzz cut and ears that stuck out just a tad too far. Thick eyebrows made up for the shortage of hair on top.

"Well, at least we are not _in_ the lake," I pointed out.

"Not yet anyway," he said, and as if on cue, more ice cracked around him. He let out another nervous laugh.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Alex."

"Alex." I tried to make my voice as soothing as possible. "I want you to stay very, very still. I'm going to come and help you."

"Are you sure? You might be safer risking the posse."

I looked toward the shore. Several men lay in wait at the edge of the ice, unsure how to proceed. Micah stood among them, sporting disheveled, wet hair. A final crack of ice, a brief moment of silence, and the splash of a body hitting the water filled me with dread. Damned if one more life would be pinned on me.

Without hesitation, I ran toward the watery hole and jumped in feet first. I wasn't thinking, at least not until I was completely submerged in icy cold water. Even then my only thought was _, I_ _hate swimming_. But, then again, there was no swimming about it – I was just drowning. The initial shock from the icy water caused me to open my mouth and I fought my first instinct to inhale. I scrambled to the surface, coughing and sputtering, coming up through the same hole. Alex had not been so lucky; there was no sign of him. I pulled back wet strands of hair plastered over my face to see three men attempting to cross the slippery lake surface to get to us. They would never make it in time. I took a deep breath and went back under, this time mentally prepared for the cold.

Visibility was poor at best. I searched right beneath the ice as quickly as I could; Alex would have tried to return to the same spot. I began swimming along, careful not to lose my own bearing of the hole. My search attempts were cut short by the painful cry for air from my lungs. Returning to the hole, I spotted Alex just on the other side. His body was limp and starting to sink. I swam toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist, kicking up to the surface. I struggled under his weight, and was now desperate for air. Still, if I let him go, he wouldn't have a chance. I kicked and kicked but the hole didn't seem to be getting any closer. My lungs threatened to burst and instinct for my own survival took over. I let him go.

I paused as I said a silent goodbye. _Peculiar_ , I thought to myself, _how he is rising instead of sinking_. Ignoring my aching lungs, I hung, suspended in time, watching his lifeless form float toward heaven. He disappeared above me into the light streaming through the slick gray and white clouds. Something grabbed me, forcing me up the same path. _Not me, damn you!_ I kicked, fighting my way back to life - but ultimately wasn't given a choice. _Well, if I have to go, this is an admirable way to do it._ Finally relenting, I embraced fate's hold.

Air found its way into my lungs, and the world came back to me. Several very human hands pulled me out of the water. Alex was already there, splayed out on an icy but stable part of the lake. Someone leaned over him checking his pulse and encouraging him to open his eyes. The two who had pulled me from the hole paused to make sure I was breathing, then turned to Alex to help administer CPR. After briefly arguing who got to do the pumping and who had to do the 'kissing', they had Alex breathing again.

He coughed up some of the murky lake water and looked around wild-eyed. I reached out to hold his hand.

"You fell in too?" Alex asked through chattering teeth, a coughing fit taking over.

I pushed aside wet strands of hair to see him more clearly. They broke off right in my hand. "It was more of a jump – though I didn't know it would cost me my hair."

He laid his head back on the ice as he realized what happened, "I owe you, Kaitlyn."

"You owe me twenty to be exact, and I'll hold you to it." I flashed a big smile at him and received one in return. Our eye contact was interrupted by the many blankets thrown over us produced by the arriving medics. Most of them surrounded Alex as his skin was a very ominous shade of blue.

Feeling returned to my body, followed by a sense of panic. Sheer pain radiated through me, drilling into skin, muscle, then bone. It made it hard to breathe and the world started to gray out. One man broke through the haze and hovered over me. Micah's warm, green eyes pierced through me and I felt my very blood bubble in conflict. He was helping me to battle the cold, but it wouldn't go without a fight.

Unperturbed and disregarding the presence of other men, Micah threw off his clothes and crawled under the blankets with me. "Help me help you," he whispered into my ear. "Force your blood to move, it will warm you. Feel it flowing down to your toes and up and out into your fingers; complete the circle. Faster, faster. Fight off the frostbite."

I concentrated, imagining it was his words pushing my blood through my body. The magic worked, the pain subsided, and only a slight shivering was left behind. The energy spent over the last fifteen minutes had drained me, and I knew I wasn't long for the waking world. Before I could go, I had to know. Whether it be damning information or not, I would not be able to retaliate against the world.

I took Micah's face in between my shaking hands and stared at him with a penetrating gaze that equaled his own. "Tell me. Did I kill mom and dad?" He hesitated, eyes widening slightly at the horror of such a notion. I had to have his answer quick before I passed out. "Hurry – tell me!"

He quickly shook his head. "No. God no, Kaitlyn."

There was truth in his eyes. Relief flooded into me and retreated, wave by wave, taking blame with them. Content enough, I allowed myself to drift off with the waves, but not before I saw a final flash of guilt cross Micah's eyes.

Chapter 9

Questionable Timing

I woke slowly, blinking out the pink tones of a coming twilight that filtered through the window.

"You're awake," Micah said.

I turned toward the shadowy figure in the corner of the room, letting my eyes adjust to the light.

"I am..." Momentarily distracted by the feel of my bare skin against the sheets, I peeked underneath the blankets, then finished my sentence, "...naked."

"A necessary measure to get your body temperature back up, as counterintuitive as it sounds." He smiled, coming to sit on the bedside. Instinctively, I shuffled away from him, pulling the blankets up to my chin. My movement was stopped, once again, with the clank of handcuffs holding one wrist tightly to the bed. I let out an exasperated sigh, annoyed that, after all that, I was back at square one. Sloths made more progress in a day than I had managed.

Micah's sigh mimicked mine as he reached in his pocket and produced a small key. "It's no use locking you up. You'll just make a mess of things trying to escape."

Once released, I cradled my wrist protectively, rubbing out the red marks left by the handcuffs. An awkward moment passed as we sat side by side, neither of us speaking. Had there been a clock in the room we would have heard it ticking.

He scooted a little closer to me and looked expectant. I certainly couldn't bolt out the door in my current state of undress. I cleared my throat. "So is this a new method – captivity by means of nudity?"

"As appealing as that may sound to most of our male staff, no." He gestured to a pile of clothes next to his dresser. "You'll be staying here, with me now. Cato thinks it will be safer."

"Safer for whom?"

He leaned in closer. "Safer for everyone involved."

With him so near, I stifled my breathing, lest he be exposed to morning breath and started smoothing my hair.

He calmed my hands, laying his on top of mine. "Stop fussing, you look beautiful."

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I looked away quickly, still unsure of his intentions. Was that how he truly felt?

Micah, sparing me for the moment, rose and paced the room. "Kaitlyn, I know you don't trust The Seven, or what we are doing. But if you give us a chance, open your mind a little; you may come to believe in what we do. You aren't captive here..."

I snorted, letting him know I thought otherwise.

He ignored me. "...but we need you to understand what your purpose on this Earth is."

He paused and looked at me as though waiting for an answer. I took a deep breath and consented. "Fine – no more running away, for now. I'll give you a chance. But there are conditions. First, answer my questions and second, when I do want to leave – you will let me. Agreed?"

"Agreed," he said, without hesitation. He returned to the side of the bed to shake on it. "Everything will be explained to you in time, we just need to take it slowly. And I'll be here the whole way."

"That's what I am afraid of."

My joke was taken as such, and he used the relief of tension to lie down beside me in the bed, albeit on top of the sheets. His head hovered over my chest tentatively, waiting for me to accept him. I did. I wrapped my arms around him, welcoming his warmth. It felt much less awkward this way.

I ran my fingers through his hair, contemplating. Micah didn't give me the time to decide whether I was saved or doomed.

He sat up with determination. "Why don't you get cleaned up and get dressed. Then we'll find something to eat, take a walk, and talk."

Keeping the sheets wrapped around me, I started to make my way off the bed. "All right, but I want more than just a sandwich this time."

"So demanding," Micah said sarcastically. He pulled on a pair of faded jeans, worn almost all the way through at the knees. At least his wardrobe was no better than mine. He pulled on a dark blue shirt, and took the time to roll up the sleeves but didn't bother with the buttons. He left barefoot, allowing me to shower and dress in private. Despite my growling stomach, I didn't hurry through the shower. I needed time to think, and the warm water beating down on my shoulders chased what cold remained from the lake. For the first time since I'd been in contact with this crew, I wasn't planning my next escape attempt. I was more curious now than anything else. And I would have liked to say it had nothing to do with Micah, but he no doubt sweetened the pot.

In contrast to the bare cupboards of the kitchen, the bathroom was stocked with everything I would have requested, and then some. Shampoo and conditioner, soaps, razors, pink shaving gel, makeup, brushes, a hair dryer, perfume, and plenty of soft, oversized towels with a matching robe and slippers. _Lovely, it was the day spa appointment I never made for myself. It only took a near-death experience, a kidnapping and the life-altering discovery of magical powers to finally have it._ I showered slowly, trying out each of the scented soaps before choosing lavender to wash away the muck of the lake. I paused, looking down at my legs and sighed. They were nearly as white as the bleached shower tiles.

_Wonder if they have a tanning bed on site_ , I thought, my hands catching my attention. O _r maybe a nail technician._

I stepped out of the shower and gained a little more confidence looking in the mirror. I rarely wore makeup; my face had a natural even-toned glow to it. My eyebrows, albeit needing a good plucking, were nicely arched and did a good job of drawing attention to my eyes. The gold streaks that were so prevalent throughout my brown hair also graced my eyebrows, and highlighted the little gold specks in my otherwise boring brown eyes. I ran a comb through my hair but didn't bother blow-drying it. Going completely natural would hide my broken strands better. I stopped mid-primping.

_Amazing how one man could change a woman's entire mindset._ I snorted, then quickly covered my mouth. _Better not do that around him._

It was another half hour before I came out of the bathroom; I had managed to find tweezers and nail clippers. I took even more time picking out my clothes, loathe to give up the feel of the soft robe against my bare skin. Just as I slipped a fresh-smelling t-shirt over my head, Micah walked in.

"A man of questionable timing," I remarked while scanning the room for cameras. I hadn't thought of that until now.

He walked over to the closet and chose a belt for me. "There aren't any cameras in here - I had them all removed."

I raised my eyebrow, and opened my mouth.

He answered my next question before I could ask it. "Long before our..." He cleared his throat with a smirk. "Night together. No one else will know that you snore."

I rolled my eyes, taking the belt he held out for me. I suppressed the urge to whip him with it. Despite his teasing I had to give him credit for the belt. I would have been content to yank the oversized pants up every two minutes.

"Come on," Micah opened the door for me.

"No handcuffs or guards to accompany us?" I poked my head out the door expecting to see a group of men ready to escort me. At this point, I wouldn't blame them.

"Just me." Micah looked down at me, and took my arm in his. We walked down the cold halls, passing door after door. I tried to keep my eyes forward, avoiding sideways glances into any opened rooms. I wasn't anxious to catch site of Cato or Shawn, who, come to find out, was well justified in wanting to knock me unconscious. As we stepped outside, I turned my head to give the kitchen a woeful look.

Micah noticed. "I have food waiting for us out in the gardens."

I smiled and quickened my pace. "So what is it you do here at the Chakra? I mean, besides abducting beautiful, defenseless women."

"Oh, please." The side of his mouth curled up in a half-smile. "You have proven yourself far beyond defenseless."

"I am still here, aren't I?"

"Leaving in your wake several badly beaten men, two unconscious guards, and a hypothermic Alex."

"He ok?" I had forgotten about my running partner.

"Didn't recover quite as quickly as you did, but he'll come around."

"Just sprinkle some dirt on him and send him back to work."

Micah laughed. "He's not like us; doesn't possess the same abilities. He can be useful though – he's the logistics guy." Micah stopped short and pulled me toward him. "Thank you, by the way, for saving him. I don't think we could have reached him in time."

I shrugged, "He would've never been there if it weren't for me. And the lake would never have been frozen if I knew how to control my powers. I'm sorry. Tell him that I am truly sorry for that."

He took my hands into his. "No need to be sorry. And we'll help you with your powers – later. Now..." He gestured grandly with his arm to a large blanket ahead of us. "We feast, kind of."

I smelled the food before I saw it. There were different trays of meat garnished with nuts and fruits, a loaf of bread accompanied by a small basket of various flavored butters, and even a cheesecake smothered in strawberries. I sat down and dived directly into the meats, not bothering with utensils or plates. Micah laughed and sat down next to me.

He started cutting slices of bread. "Cato decided to let us splurge. Doesn't happen often. I would tell you to relax and that the food isn't going anywhere, but..." he looked over his shoulder. "You'd be surprised at how fast word gets around."

I glanced over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for any would-be food thieves, then shoved another piece of roast beef in my mouth. "I need to take advantage when I'm presented with mold-free food. And _you_ ," I pointed my finger at him, "haven't given a girl many opportunities to eat."

"You are hungry because of the energy you are absorbing – it is a lot for your body to process. Don't worry, your routine here will be a little more predictable; and I'll be sure three mold-free meals a day get on the schedule."

"With mold-free snacks?" I prodded.

He laughed. "With mold-free snacks and desserts. Your tests all came back clean and the lab gave their go ahead to begin training. Try this. Almond butter on homemade sprouted grain bread."

I took his offering, then grabbed another, letting him laugh at me.

I looked back up, swallowing the second piece, savoring the taste this time. "What kind of training are we talking about?"

"Do you want more bread? There's also hazelnut, raspberry and apple butter."

I gave him a look for ignoring my question, but grabbed another piece with the honey butter.

"Good choice." He smiled. "You will be learning how to use and control your powers. You will also do some weapons training, martial arts, first aid, and if there is time we'll teach you the basics to a few foreign languages."

I looked back at the plates. I had polished off most of the meat, leaving only scraps for Micah. I moved on to the fruits but eyed the cheesecake. "I'm not exactly the warrior princess type you might be hoping for. I will, however, go Xena on your ass if you don't pass me that cheesecake."

Micah laughed again and put two slices on a plate for me, including a very generous amount of strawberry sauce. I put a large forkful in my mouth and let out a long sigh as the entire concoction seemed to melt in my mouth. "Will the training be safe? I mean not just for me, but everyone else?" I asked, in between bites.

"That's why I am here. My job is to protect you and, well..." Micah hesitated, "...to protect others from you."

He looked down, pushing food around on his plate and, although it was hard to tell in the failing light, it seemed his cheeks had turned pink. He nearly looked ashamed.

I decided not to push it. "With your methods of reining me in, I might be inclined to lose control more often." I pushed aside some of the plates and moved to sit beside him.

He grinned and put his arm around me, and we laid back on the blanket together, watching the first stars of the night twinkle into view.

"The training will be difficult," he said. "It's designed to bring you to your greatest potential in as little time as possible. But I'll be there the whole way and if there is anything you need, just let me know. I'll make it happen."

I thought about my life up until this point and surprisingly was not disappointed to leave it behind. Barring Tuesday night Karaoke with a few select friends and some rather fickle house plants, there wasn't much to go back to. I had two bids in for photography assignments, but clients don't wait around long before moving on to the next photographer.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the temperature cooled significantly. I turned on my side, and he did the same so we were face to face. He threw his other arm around me, warding off the cold.

"I'm sorry, Kaitlyn. For everything."

I raised my eyebrows. I certainly wasn't going to say it was okay, and that all was forgiven. Although, another kiss wouldn't hurt...

His hand moved up to my face, pushing my hair behind my ear. I grabbed hold of the hem of his shirt, twisting it around my hand and squeezing. He stopped stroking my cheek with the pad of his thumb, and lifted my chin up. "Are you okay with this?"

I should have said no, especially because I was finally given a choice. I moved my hand, touching the bare skin at his waist. More shocks. More heat. "What is that?" I whispered.

"I don't know," he whispered back. "Us. Being together."

His hand moved to the back of my neck. It was tense, I could feel him resisting the urge to pull me in the rest of the way. This was still my choice. Ultimately, the fear of long years without anyone, of denying the ache in my chest to belong, drove me into him.

I took a deep breath, inhaling his scent which was a mix of campfire, mint, and amber. Once our lips touched, he kept me tethered – or was it me doing that to him? Hard to tell. Our limbs snaked around each other until we were tangled in a complex human knot. I rolled on top of Micah, sliding my hand in between us to feel his abs. My own were sizzling, deep inside.

He rolled us again, and I landed in something squishy. The smell of strawberries tinged the air. I laughed, pulling the sauce out from under me. He licked remnants of the sticky glaze off my clumsy fingers, then kissed me again. The taste of the sweet berry exploded on my tongue. I hummed in pleasure.

He held both my hands to the ground above my head, while his kisses moved down my neck, then over to my ear. I squirmed. He tightened his grip, using only one of his own hands. The other snaked up my shirt. I stilled, like prey caught in the clutches of a reptile. I held my breath as his caresses moved higher. I wanted him to continue so bad it hurt, but I hadn't done this in so long. _Was there a point of no return? Do I want to cross that line tonight? Yes. No._

He paused, lifting off of me, catching his breath. "Not until you're ready."

Goddamn valiant gentleman.

He looked confused. I swiped at one of his hands supporting his weight, then caught him at the lips, and rolled us. He was on the bottom again; ceramic plates clanging together beneath us. I kissed him long and hard, exploring his strawberry mouth with my tongue, until I felt his resistance melt into me. Then I stopped. If we were going to reign it in, it would be on my terms.

I sat up, "You're right. Besides, we need to spare the food."

He squeezed his eyes shut, "You're killing me, Kaitlyn."

I waited until he composed himself. He took in a deep breath, exhaled, and I felt the tension dissipate. He put both hands behind his head, "At least now I know your priorities."

"Oh, please," I swung my leg off of him, popping a grape into my mouth for good measure, "as if you didn't already."

He laughed, standing us both up. "Come on, you need your sleep. Tomorrow we begin training."

"Should we bring in the leftovers?"

"I'll send someone out for it."

Two medics, a man and a woman, watched us enter through the sliding glass door in the living room. They surveyed our soiled clothes, then asked, "We got a new shipment of food?"

Micah gestured over his shoulder, "Out back – you get first dibs if you clean it up for us."

"Well, second dibs, really." I corrected him.

They didn't care, they were already jostling for position. The woman elbowed the man in the stomach on their way through the door, "Out of my way – I think that was cheesecake!"
Chapter 10

Miles to Run

The next morning, I woke to the crude noise of blinds being drawn followed by the intrusion of the glaring morning sun. I closed my eyes tighter, turned away from it, and muttered in a scratchy voice, "Coffee."

Something hard landed on the pillow next to my head. I cracked open my eyes.

"Apple," Micah said. "Wakes you up better than coffee."

I groaned, but pushed myself up and gnawed on the fruit. Might help to mask my morning breath. I glanced at the other side of the bed. He had slept there last night, on top of the covers. Had I not been so tired, it might've been torture for me, lying so close to him in bed, and not touching. I wondered how it was for him?

All too soon Micah started shuffling me out of bed. "Up. We have things to do, people to see, miles to run."

My shoulders sank at the last part. "Miles to run? Today?"

"Not just today, but right now." Micah pulled together a running outfit for me.

"What about breakfast?" There was no way he would convince me an apple, with all its wondrous qualities, served as a full meal.

"Not before we run off that cheesecake."

Less than five minutes later I was huffing and puffing to keep up. We ran along the outskirts of the compound and I was quickly finding out how large the Chakra really was. Micah talked the whole time, changing the subject often while trying to find some motivation for me. He talked about the breakfast waiting for us, he tried complimenting me, then bullying me, and he even tried a military cadence. Finally, he started talking about The Seven, going more into detail about why I was there and what was expected of me. He kept his voice low and always stayed a step ahead so I worked constantly to keep up. I barely noticed his pace increasing.

"So why _'The Seven'_?" I panted. "Was _'The Six'_ taken?"

"Actually, we're not quite sure," Micah replied. "We believe our organization predates Christ, though documented history doesn't go back that far. In fact, we used to be called 'Haft', which is Persian for seven. This was back when the Persians were considered the most advanced culture around. Since then, the majority of our organization has been made up of English speakers, hence the change in name." He was barely breaking a sweat and his long-winded explanations didn't interfere with his rhythmic breathing. "Anyway, seven has a lot of significance, both in nature and elsewhere. There are seven stellar objects visible to the naked eye from Earth, there are seven main stars in the Big Dipper and Orion, any flower that has not been crossbred has seven petals, there are seven Chakras on the human body."

"I'll take religion for $400," I huffed.

"Judiasm," he said. "The Menorah has seven candles. Islam believes in seven layers of heaven and seven layers of hell. Christianity – seven days of creation, seven deadly sins, seven virtues..."

"History," I challenged.

"Seven wonders of the ancient world, seven—"

"Dwarfs, seven days of the week, 7-Up--" I started.

"Save your breath, Kaitlyn," Micah interrupted. "You're going to need it."

"Funny. That's what I told Alex, just before I beat his ass." I used the last of my energy and broke into a dead sprint. The building loomed back into sight and our conversation halted while we raced. We reached the paved porch at the same time. I doubled over, holding my knees while I tried to catch my breath. Micah was not breathing nearly as hard as I.

"Next time, we'll work on channeling energy waves into your physical performance," he said.

"Oh, joy."

"I know, right?" He looked genuinely excited. "Anyway, more about The Seven. You were brought here to be our Gaia, which basically stands for Mother Earth. You will provide balance to the world. We are here to identify, train, and support Gaias." He bent at the waist, touching his toes. I followed his lead while he continued his lecture. "Cato is responsible for monitoring ecosystems, predicting drastic changes in the environment, maintaining political connections, securing funding, identifying and tracking people with abilities, and the list goes on and on."

My breathing finally slowed down. I straightened, looking at Micah. "So what do I, or the Gaia, do to bring about balance, exactly?"

"You can affect the four natural elements to help resolve or even prevent natural and environmental disasters. Stretch like this. It prevents shin splints."

I followed his example and we continued to stretch out, moving to sit on the cool grass. "So can you affect nature, like I can?"

"I am your Ardwyad. My job is to protect, train, and generally be responsible for all things Gaia. I can affect nature only vicariously, through you."

"What about Cato?"

"Cato is called the Rais, which basically means leader. He used to be an Ardwyad, and has picked up some powers by working so closely with Gaias, but he rarely has a chance to practice, much less maintain them."

"Have you picked up any powers?"

He smiled, "It takes a long time. I'm not due for my own magic until well into my twilight years."

I shook my head, "Can't be too far off. Wait – are those grey hairs I see?" I yanked out a strand.

"Ow!"

"And Alex?" I asked.

He glared at me, debating if he should let me go unpunished. He did.

"Alex coordinates communications, weapons, and all other logistics. Each person has a large part within the team. Usually when we go on a mission, we are all there or the mission isn't possible." Micah started humming the theme song to Mission Impossible under his breath but I was too distracted with his last words to be humored.

"All must be present? So what about Shawn?" I looked at him, smile gone from my face. "You know - boy band material. Bright blue eyes. Hell-bent on sticking a knife in my chest."

Micah hesitated, and then stood. "Let's get some breakfast." He took off toward the kitchen. I followed. He wasn't going to get off the hook that easily.

When I caught up, he was piling eggs and fruit on a plate. "Hope you don't mind but you won't get too much of a choice in food. We put together a menu specific to your needs..."

I took the plate out of his hands and dumped the whole thing in the trash. "Answer my questions."

Micah narrowed his eyes, but he got another plate and restocked it. He pushed it in front of me. I ignored it, raising an eyebrow at him.

After a brief stare down, he sighed. "Fine, but you're not going to like it."

I took my plate and sat down at the small round table in the corner of the room. "I am all ears."

Micah loaded a plate for him and sat down beside me. "Funny. I thought you were all stomach."

I didn't laugh.

He rolled his eyes. "There is a small team that goes out on missions which will consist of you, me, and Alex. Cato will go on occasions, but Shawn will always be there. The team can be augmented by Elementals. Elementals can manipulate one element, but not all of them, like you. Even though you might be stronger with your powers, Elementals specialize in earth, wind, water, or fire, and can be more effective because they specialize in it. Kind of like subject matter experts."

"What about Shawn?"

"Shawn is our Medwin. He controls the merging of each person's force. With the Gaia, specifically, he is like a lens. He can be convex, magnifying your powers, or concave to dilute them. Shawn can also block powers completely. He is just as necessary as any of us." Micah paused to take a few bites and let me process the information.

"So I am going to have to work with him...no matter what? There is no one to replace him, or me?" Micah shook his head. I looked down, fiddling with my plate. I kept my lips tight, trying to suppress a frown.

"I'll talk to him, but there is no reason to worry. He is rough around the edges, and is still grieving a recent...loss. But he's no danger to you, really."

Micah continued to reassure me, but he wasn't the one standing in the line of fire when Shawn shot daggers with his eyes. He also seemed to forget the recent scuffle he broke up between us not days ago.

We finished our breakfast, and I barely put down my fork, _yes I was using a fork this time_ , when I was hustled through a five minute shower and off to my first weapons training class with Alex.

Alex was on the mend. No doubt more recovery was involved after sitting in that lab than from the accident that put him there in the first place. It was a brutal place, that lab. I walked toward Alex, who was standing in a large open gym next to a table with an array of guns.

He was busy reading notes on a clipboard. I picked up one of the instruments, and ran my finger over the barrel. It felt more like plastic than metal. I tested its fit in my hand with my finger over the trigger. "These loaded?"

He flung the clipboard on the table and snatched the gun from my hand. "First lesson – don't point the gun at anything you don't intend to shoot."

I realized it had been aimed directly at his manhood. "Oh, sorry."

"No harm done, yet. Although with you, I have the medical team on standby." He gestured at a set of bleachers where several men were playing cards. I wanted to join them. "But to answer your question, no – this is a dart gun. You need one of these for it to be effective." He opened a thin, black case and produced a large dart with several red plumes flaring out the end. He went down the table, introducing me to the various guns and ammunition. There were stun guns, flare guns, handguns, rifles; even a crossbow and arrows.

"Why is all this necessary? If there is trouble, I will just, you know – hit the bad guy with my magic. Right?"

"Wrong."

"Wrong?" I swallowed a small lump of frustration that began to form in my throat.

Alex spun around and started loading one of the smaller handguns. "Pretend I am the bad guy. Stop me with your magic."

"Um...okay." I was at a loss at how to proceed.

"Better hurry Kaitlyn, the gun is almost loaded."

I stammered more, then hurriedly closed my eyes to meditate. I could think better with a clear head.

"Kaitlyn..." I opened my eyes and found myself looking straight down a cold, dark barrel. The handgun didn't seem so small anymore. "You would be long gone by now. Every situation cannot be predicted, so it is best to be prepared in as many ways as possible." He lowered the gun.

I let out breath I didn't realize I was holding, "You just broke your first rule."

He smiled and shrugged, "Had to prove a point. Now, let's do some target practice."
Chapter 11

Drama

"Nice form," Alex said. I had just taken my last shot with the crossbow. "Now if only we can improve that aim."

"Don't make me regret taking that plunge after you in the lake."

He laughed and responded, "You probably will after tomorrow's lesson – whips."

The medical team took their leave and Alex began packing up his weapons. Micah, who had been sitting in the background, observing the entire lesson, came to retrieve me, "Come on. Lunch."

He walked away without checking to see if I would follow. I ran to catch up. "What's for lunch?"

"Food."

I glanced up - only to find his face a mask of stone. _This is why I don't do relationships; too much drama._ My mood dampened as we walked in an uncomfortable silence. What had I done wrong? I mulled over the possibilities in my head.

He broke the silence. "There are people who don't agree with what we do and often try to stop us using whatever means necessary. We need to be prepared to defend ourselves."

"I understand that," I said, eyeing him cautiously.

He shook his head. "My point is, you should take all of this seriously. These lessons may save your life one day. You should spend your time learning, not joking around with the instructors."

It dawned on me, and I smiled. "Are you jealous?"

He tightened at my question, his shoulders pulling back.

I stopped him by placing my hand on his arm. "You have nothing to worry about – Alex is fun, and good at what he does. There is nothing more to it than that."

He looked at me for a long time and I found myself being sucked in by those dark green eyes. A short, quick buzz inside my head drew me from my trance. It was coming from Micah. I took a quick step away from him. "What are you doing?"

The tension in his body had disappeared. He even offered a teasing smile. "No matter. I believe you. Come on, you are late for lunch with Cato."

Micah took off toward the kitchen, but all I could do was stand there; a wave of nausea washing through me.

"Are you coming?" Micah shouted from halfway down the hall.

I shook my head in confusion, and followed.

He sat me down at the small round table in the corner, it was already set with lunch for two. "I'm going to leave you alone with Cato so you two can talk. Are you going to be okay with that?"

"Shouldn't you ask if _he_ is going to be okay with that?" I said sarcastically as I sat down.

Micah leaned over me. "If it gets a little...stormy...in here, I wouldn't mind making another intervention." With that declaration, he kissed me on the forehead and was gone.

I was halfway finished with my sandwich by the time Cato arrived. He strode in slowly with his shoulders back and head held high. His body language suggested he was overcompensating for something, perhaps fear. Still, he exuded a regal presence. I suppressed the urge to stand up at his entrance.

He stopped at the table, looked down at me and gestured to the empty seat. "May I?"

I swallowed what was still in my mouth. "Be my guest." I folded my hands in my lap, but that was as humble as I cared to get. I studied his face while he made a sandwich for himself. There were bruises, but not nearly as bad as I expected. They were yellowish in color, nearing the end of their life.

I cleared my throat. "How are you feeling?"

He smiled. "I'm all right."

I opened my mouth to apologize but he spoke over me.

"There is no need to apologize. Your reaction was no less than we should have expected, considering. Besides, it wasn't anything a little dirt couldn't handle."

I leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms. He had managed to ease most of my guilt, but he did nothing for the part of me that was still angry at him. "How is that everyone seems to be reading my mind as of late?"

"Kaitlyn, I can assure you I cannot read your mind. I assumed you were getting ready to apologize because you would be a questionable character if you didn't feel the least bit remorse for what happened. But I cannot speak for anyone else. Is it Micah? The connection between a Gaia and her Ardwyad is always different."

"Oh, yes. Micah the Ard-WEE-yad. My protector." I faked a southern accent, and swooned.

Cato swallowed a bit of his sandwich, "I used to be an Ardwyad."

I huffed, attempting to quell my sarcasm. After a few minutes, I sat up straight and tried to be cooperative, "Has Micah been an Arr, Awd..." I stumbled over the word.

"Ardwyad," Cato corrected.

I tried again, "Has Micah been the Ardwyad for someone before?"

"Oh, yes. Several times over."

My stomach dropped, the picture of someone else in a similar relationship to Micah hit me stronger than I would have liked. Them in bed together... I forced my mind away from it.

Cato continued, "But like I said, the connection is always different. He has never before reported the ability to read his Gaia's mind. It had always been purely about reading the energy she was giving off or taking. However, there is no doubt something more between you two. Many have mentioned they felt a heightened sense of charged energy when you are together." Cato hesitated and cleared his throat. "Also, Micah has never shared his room with another Gaia."

I felt my cheeks get hot. _Great, people are actually seeing sparks go off around us._

"What about mind-reading?" I asked.

He put down his sandwich, "What about it?"

It was my turn to clear my throat. "I'm pretty sure Micah can read my mind."

Cato leaned forward. "Do tell."

"We were walking here, a few minutes ago, arguing."

"About what?"

"That isn't important," I said. Cato didn't need to know the details of our relationship. "But he thought I was lying until he, well, read my mind. At least, I think he did."

"What made you think that?"

"We were looking at each other, not talking, and I felt, well, a tickle on the inside of my head."

"Were you thinking of anything in particular?" Cato asked. "It could have purely been something inside your head."

I shook my head. "I got a very distinct feeling that it was coming from Micah. And I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, I was just sort of, you know, getting lost in his eyes." I rethought that last part, "Well, maybe you don't know."

"No, but I can imagine."

My cheeks grew even hotter. Thankfully Cato dismissed it. "I suppose I need to do some research on it." Finished with only half of his sandwich, Cato wiped off his mouth and brushed off his lap. I could hear him mumbling under his breath, "I need to call that professor and get more books on telepathy, and find those notes on parapsychology..." He stood up and without saying a word to me started for the door, "...and follow up on this energy thing. It could explain Shawn's behavior..."

I stood, following him into the living room. "Umm, excuse me?"

He acknowledged me by a slight turn of his head but he kept on walking. "Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to be so rude. I will get back to you when I can be of some help."

"Wait, you said something about Shawn's behavior?"

"He has been a little on edge as of late. He probably sensed the heightened energy once you arrived and also when you and Micah are together." Cato lowered his voice. "His instincts are to keep the status quo by suppressing or alleviating the source."

I stopped and threw my arms in the air. _How is everyone just blowing this off?_ Cato, a few steps ahead, stopped suddenly and turned back, "Oh, I almost forgot. You have a date with me tonight."

I dropped my arms by my side in defeat, "A date?"

"Yes, once it gets dark I'll send for you. We are going to start working with your newfound powers." Without further explanation, Cato turned on his heel and headed toward the library.

I watched him go, still stunned by the conversation. No one takes the new kid on the block seriously. _Probably not until it was too late, anyway_. I made no move to return to the kitchen. I wasn't in the mood to wait around to be retrieved by Micah and herded off to another training event.

It wasn't long before Micah appeared anyway. He was struggling to balance a tall stack of books in his arms.

I looked at him suspiciously. "Don't tell me I have to run with those, now."

"No, but you do have to read them." He motioned for me to follow.

He set the books down on an end table in the living room, and I half expected it to buckle from the weight. The wood creaked but held. He motioned for me to sit. I took one of the couches for myself, sinking into the deep cushions, and looked ahead at the stone fireplace sitting prominently at the front of the room. The air smelled of incense, hitting me in waves while I looked around. Knickknacks lined the shelves, looking like a man's overdone attempt at decorating.

Micah chose three books and held them out to me. "Here, start with the basics."

I looked at the titles. _Guide to Biology_. _Essentials of Oceanography_. _Introduction to Astronomy_.

"Will there be a test later?" I suddenly felt like I was in college, a fate I tried my best to avoid in life.

He moved closer, towering over me with his hands on his hips. "You can do the quizzes at the end of each chapter. Take this seriously, Kaitlyn, you need to know about the world if you are going to do anything to help it."

Micah turned to leave me alone with the massive pile of books. I suddenly panicked. "Where are you going?"

He paused, looking over his shoulder. "I have something I have to do tonight."

"You're not going to leave me alone are you?" I jumped up, dropping the books on the cushion next to me. "Is it more important than me?"

"I honestly don't know anymore, Kaitlyn. I don't know." He left the room.

Unsure of what else to do, I sat down with a 'hmph'. The books stared at me from the other cushion. I sighed and picked up the oceanography book, flipping to the table of contents. Plate tectonics, wave dynamics, circulation, marine environment, tides.

"Boring!" I said aloud, hoping someone was around to respond. No such luck. Dead silence answered back. Sighing again, I stood, putting the book down on my way to the kitchen. I was going to need something alcoholic, and hopefully strong, to get me through this. I opened the fridge and reached for a beer. Before opening the cap using the molding of the kitchen doorway, my one and only party trick – had I ever gone to parties - I thought better of it and made coffee instead. I was going to need the whole pot to keep myself awake. I returned to the living room looking at the couch with hope. No good. The blasted book was still there. Armed with coffee, I began to plow through it.

Chapter 12

Quite a Sight

Six hours and two entire pots of coffee later, I was halfway through the oceanography book. Not that much was being retained. Attempting to stay awake, I moved from the living to the dining room, to the back porch, then finally to Micah's room. The changes of scenery did little to help. A loud bang at Micah's door interrupted me halfway through my lousy attempt at an end of chapter quiz. Without giving me the chance to answer, Shawn swung the door open. Once again, his looks were disarming. With bright blue eyes and smooth, light skin, his face appeared almost angelic. I had hope, that is, until he opened his mouth. He snorted, voice gruff. "Get your shoes on; it is time to see Cato."

I sighed, making sure to follow orders as slowly as possible. "What's the matter, Shawn? My mark keeping you up at night?"

Shawn just smiled. "An eye for an eye."

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if he meant tonight or some other time. Not that he would have answered if I asked.

So, Shawn, when do you plan on exacting your revenge? If you can give me as much notice as possible, that would be great.

Shawn barely waited for me to finish tying my shoes before walking out of the room. I ran to catch up, following him out the back door. The night was lit by a full moon. I breathed in the spicy-orange scent of flowering plants.

Shawn ruined it. "Follow me and try to keep up." He took off, avoiding both the gardens and the large open field. Instead, he disappeared into a dense grove of trees that blocked out the helpful moonlight. The path we had started on thinned, then vanished entirely, leaving us at the mercy of the trees. More often than not, I lost sight of Shawn and had to depend on my hearing to follow in the right direction. He was doing his damndest to lose me, but he was having as much trouble with nature as I was. The shrubs and tree branches seemed to claw at his stocky body more so than mine.

Shawn kept looking over his shoulder, purposely causing branches to whip back into my face. A few caught me, stinging my forehead and cheeks. I had the urge to break off one of the sharper sticks and jam it in his back, but I had enough trouble keeping my footing around the protruding tree roots. Although hanging on to a stick lodged in someone's back could have help me there.

I was rudely awakened from my daydream by another branch to the face – this one drew blood.

"Having trouble back there?" Shawn called, sounding winded.

"Holding my own! Sounds like you can use a break."

Shawn stopped abruptly, turned, and put his hands around my throat, squeezing. "Make no mistake; your time here is short. But keep that up and you aren't going to last the week."

My eyes began to water. I briefly considered calling for energy but my mind was in a panic. Feebly pulling and scratching at his hands did nothing; the edge of my vision began to blur. Finally, I forced my right hand around his waist and up, giving him a hard slap on the back. He immediately let go of my throat, giving a painful cry and arching his back. The look in his eyes chilled me, but not enough to keep my mouth shut.

Before he could do anything else, I ran past and looked over my shoulder at him yelling, "Follow me and try to keep up." I ran as fast as I could, dodging the branches when I saw them in time. Twigs snapping right behind me told me he was close. Fear didn't kick in until I felt his breath on the back of my neck, just like the dragon during the avalanche. Maybe I pushed him too far this time. A break in the trees appeared ahead and I picked up the pace, hoping our destination was near.

A tree root caught my foot, and I stumbled. Attempting a quick step to stay on my feet, I might have recovered if it weren't for the jolt from behind, pushing my upper body forward. I don't know if Shawn just ran into me, or if he had chosen that moment to begin training for the NFL, but we both went down in a football-style tackle worthy of any Monday night game.

It must have been quite a sight, the pair of us rolling out of the woods, tumbling over one another and coming to a rest right at Cato's feet. Shawn and I slowly untangled, picking ourselves up from the ground, and dusting off dirt and leaves. My throat burned, as if his fingers left imprints that were beginning to bruise. I rubbed at it and glared at Shawn, who was too busy nursing his back. Hopefully his back hurt as much as my throat did.

Cato looked at Shawn. "As much as I enjoy a dramatic entrance, I believe Kaitlyn could've done without the physical exertion right before this task."

Shawn didn't respond, keeping his eyes downcast.

With a wave of his hand, Cato dismissed him, and Shawn obediently shrunk back into the woods.

Cato already had my arm and was escorting me away from the trees. "It isn't often Shawn finds his match in a running partner." I risked a glance over my shoulder, attempting to see how Shawn took the parting shot. He hesitated, seeming to debate if he should respond. He decided against it, and continued into the woods, turning back to look at us. As he slipped into the shadows, the moonlight glinted off his cold blue eyes so they were the last to fade from view.

Cato waved his hand ahead of us, directing my attention away from Shawn to the lake. There was no evidence it had been frozen over the day before, not even floating ice chunks.

"Do you know what today is?" Cato asked.

"Um, Christmas?" I joked.

Cato smiled. "I suppose in a way, for us, it is a lot like Christmas. It is the first day of spring, known by many names; the vernal equinox, Ostara, Eostre, or the Goddess of Dawn, after whom Easter is named. It is a time when day and night become equal in length, a true balance of light and dark."

"Fun," I said. "Do we get to open presents?"

"Kaitlyn, this is much better than any material gift. Many of us feel reborn after a long winter. It is a time of triumphant return of life to Earth. And for you, it is quite significant as well. It is the acceptance of your new life as Gaia, if you choose to do so."

My eyebrows rose. "You mean I have a choice?"

"You were taken against your will, but to continue on this path, you must do so freely." Cato held out his hands, both closed tight, holding something. "In my right hand I have a gift, choose this hand if you want to stay. In my left hand is a key to that lockbox over there." He pointed to a small box sitting near the shore of the lake. "It contains directions out of here, money, and your passport. If you choose this hand, you are free to go."

Cato looked at me intently, trying to read my face.

It was hard not to burst out laughing at the dramatics. "Hmm, blue pill, red pill."

Cato furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"You don't watch many movies, do you?"

Now he was frowning. "And you don't take anything seriously, do you?"

With a valiant attempt to sober, I made my choice without much thought. His right hand; I was too curious now not to stay, despite Shawn's malintent, and possibly, in spite of it. Cato smiled and opened his hand. There was nothing in it.

It was my turn to frown.

"I told you, Kaitlyn. This day is more important than any material gift." He took my hand in his and led me to the edge of the water. "Now, to cast away your old life." He handed me the key. "Throw it out as far as you can."

I did so, hitting the lake dead center.

"Well done! Deepest part." Cato congratulated me. "Now, do the same with the box."

I paused. "Are you serious? Don't you want to get the money out first - maybe buy some decent bread?"

Cato laughed. "It isn't about the money, and the significance of the task is well worth the cost."

I shrugged my shoulders and did as I was told. The box didn't make it nearly as far, but sank quickly. I watched it slip from view and my stomach turned. More than anything, I was disturbed at how indifferent I felt as the chance to have my old life back disappeared.

Cato clapped his hands once. "Good, good. Now we can begin." He took my hand in his and began to chant. "Oh lady of the starry heavens, wise all-father, behold our child Kaitlyn. Hail Earth, mother of all. This is our Gaia, our love, and our jewel." Cato bent down and grabbed a pinch of dirt, smearing it across my forehead.

"Hey!" I backed away in protest.

"Stay still!" He hissed, then went on with his prayer, "Bless her and protect her, earth of the north." He bent down.

My toes grew warm.

"Bless her and protect her, fire of the south." He stood back up, this time with fingers wet from the lake. He laid his wet hand on my right shoulder while at the same time the wind picked up and a strong gust hit my left. "Bless her and protect her, water of the west and air of the east. I call upon the elements – grant our Gaia your enduring and eternal strength, and steadfastness. May she ever have a spirit that seeks the stars, and roots deep within your loving breast."

Cato took my hand again and faced us both so we looked out over the lake.

"Now what?" I whispered, trying not to ruin his reverent mood.

"I am looking for a sign," he whispered back.

I followed his gaze into the woods across the lake, squinting my eyes into the shadows. I didn't need to try nearly so hard. A few seconds later, a butterfly came at us from across the lake. It may have been a trick of the moonlight or water, but the tiny insect seemed to shimmer and sparkle as it flew. It made a few circles around my head, its wings glittering like fireworks. It was the most brilliant and beautiful fanfare I'd ever seen, all held within a few inches on the wings of a butterfly. It was more than a welcome to this new world of magic, it was an acceptance. Not only did I make a conscience decision to stay, but nature itself gave her approval. The butterfly finished its parade and danced back across the lake, fluttering carefree. I smiled with delight, almost sad to see the thing go.

"Well, Kaitlyn. I think you've officially been–"

Our simultaneous gasp of horror cut Cato off. An owl, camouflaged until the last second by the shadows of the trees, dived toward the butterfly. The butterfly, light-hearted and blissfully unaware, had no chance. The owl's talons snatched the magical insect. As he passed us, still squeezing the life from the butterfly, the owl turned his head and screeched. It's screams echoed across the lake, dying out as soon as the owl disappeared into the trees once again.

I shook my head, looking for words. "What does that mean?"

"I've, I've never... I don't know."

It was the first time I'd seen Cato speechless.
Chapter 13

Fishing

After gathering his thoughts, Cato finally responded, "Let's start with the butterfly. A butterfly represents transformation; highly appropriate in this situation, as you have just accepted a new lifestyle. A butterfly also represents faith; in this case perhaps the earth is communicating her faith in you as the new Gaia."

"And the owl?" I encouraged; he had an irritating habit of speaking slowly.

"In mythology, if an owl flew over an army before battle, victory was imminent. However to some, the owl is a bird of ill omen." He paused, scouring the encyclopedia of a mind he had. "Also, locals to this island consider the owl to be a very wise animal. Before a long journey, they listen to the owls. The owls make two different sounds; the first means it is safe to go, and the second means it's better to stay at home." Cato paused, seemingly lost in thought.

"Well, what kind of sound did that one make?" I asked, tapping my foot.

He shrugged, "Honestly, I don't know. I'll have to research it. Not to mention the fact I have no idea what the symbolism is when an owl kills a butterfly."

"That was very unhelpful, Cato," I said, looking back out at the lake. "It would have been better to never have seen that at all."

"Well said, Kaitlyn. That is often the case with signs."

I wanted to shake him.

"Anyway," Cato brushed his hands on his pants as if it would brush off the entire incident, "let's get down to business. Sit down with me." I followed his lead, sitting right next to the edge of the water and removing my shoes. A silky layer of bright green moss served as a soft blanket. We settled in, enjoying the small comfort nature had to offer. Wary of what else nature had to offer, I scanned the skies for more owls.

"We are going to work on the command of your powers, and how to restrain them through careful self-control."

"Wouldn't this be safer with Micah here?" I asked.

"Don't worry," Cato said. "Micah is nearby in case we need him."

I looked at the tree line around us, wondering just how close.

Cato continued, "Besides, much as the moon affects waves, it seems to also have an effect on powers. A full moon like tonight allows us better control over them."

"I'll take your word for it," I said.

"First of all, I want to tell you how it is possible to prevent land outside of the Chakra draining energy from you, in order to prevent, well, disasters."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

If he noticed my glare he didn't acknowledge it. "Practicing here would be futile; there would be no way to tell if you are doing it correctly. But what you will have to do is use your own energy to build a wall around yourself, essentially blocking the earth from taking your energy. Now I know what you are thinking." Cato chuckled.

_Please, do tell,_ I thought _._

"You are thinking 'What good does it do if I have to use energy anyway to make the wall?' Well, it is a balance you will have to find on your own. Different places on the earth will take different amounts of energy from you. Locations that are highly active in one way or another will take more. Be mindful of how you feel, of your energy levels, and decide on your own what needs to be done. It will take some time, but you will learn."

"Is it something you do, away from the Chakra?" I asked.

"Yes, when I venture out. I've found it gets more and more difficult with age, so I try not to leave unless absolutely necessary."

I nodded my head. Hopefully, I wasn't destined to such confinement. "Sounds pretty horrible, honestly."

Cato gave me his best smile, but there was a sense of futility behind it. "Perhaps you can have Shawn help you with this one. Building walls is essentially what he does to control other's powers."

I shook my head. "I'm not sure Shawn would be too eager to help me do anything."

"Don't be silly, Kaitlyn. He is part of the team." Cato brushed my fears aside. "All right, let's begin."

I mimicked him as he put his bare feet in the water.

"It helps to be in direct contact with natural elements," Cato explained. "First off, I want you to try to sense what I am doing. Sit as comfortably as you can, and relax your breathing. Close your eyes, keep your mind empty except for the task of sensing my energy."

I slowed my breathing and concentrated, searching the frequencies around me for a disturbance. After several minutes, I focused in on a spot to the right of us in the lake. The water molecules were slowing, causing the water to grow colder by the second. I could follow the energy waves back to Cato.

He coached me further, "You found it. Now see if you can figure out what I am doing."

I targeted in, and almost immediately sensed movement underneath the water. "Fish! You're grouping them all together."

"Keep going," Cato said. "There is more."

I focused in again, and exclaimed, "You are trapping them!"

He had set up an underwater cage. I could feel the fish panic as their movement was suddenly limited.

"Very good! Now pay attention to how I end the session."

He stopped sending out the energy but it didn't disappear immediately. Instead of retracting the threads back into him, they fizzled away.

"An abrupt stop of powers can cause too much of a commotion." Cato explained. "We don't want to agitate the ecosystem more than we already have."

I nodded my head.

"Now, I want you to try," he said.

"Try what?"

He sighed. "Trap some more fish."

"How did you do it, exactly?" I asked.

"I cannot tell you how to use your own powers. Everyone would have a different way of doing it. Knowing how I did it won't help you figure out how to do it on your own."

Wow, could the man be any more helpful?

Cato was looking at me expectantly.

I stifled a sigh and attempted to focus. I didn't want to force the fish; at least not with more cold. At some point it would become too much for them. Perhaps the communication thing. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and concentrated. I imagined filling a balloon in my stomach with energy absorbed from the ground. The sounds of the forest distracted me a few times and I had to start over. Each time it got easier and easier, and once I thought there was enough energy stored, I let it go. I sent it out from my throat. It only felt natural – I was communicating, after all. I wasn't sure I was actually doing anything until the energy stream hit the water. It didn't slow down, but it did become diluted. It felt good, using my powers for a productive task, no matter how small. Pride got the best of me and I opened my eyes and looked at Cato with a wide smile on my face.

Cato frowned. "Concentrate, Kaitlyn, before you lose it."

"Oh, right." I focused back to the water. The energy was still there, but the balloon was emptying quickly. Finally, it completely deflated and my streams fizzled out.

"Don't imagine yourself as having a finite amount of energy. It is always within you and all around you. Use the energy from the land, from the air, or the water if you have to."

I nodded once. Communicating with the fish was obviously the wrong way to go about it. Since my body already knew how to take energy from the land, maybe I could do the same with the water. I wiggled my bare feet, deciding to use them as a focal point.

I started again, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths until I was nearly in a hypnotic state. I tapped into the resonance of the water, and began absorbing its energy, like breathing through my feet. Working first at the shoreline, then moving deeper into the lake, the fish instinctively swam away from the energy loss. All I had to do was close in on them, keeping them headed for the trap. The circle slowly closed. Fish began to swim into the trap, several at a time.

"Good! That's good, Kaitlyn!"

I smiled at his praise and continued to close the circle.

His mood turned from excitement to caution. "Ok, stop now, or the trap will burst."

I nodded my head, but kept my eyes closed in concentration. I had to release the energy back into the water slowly. It was tough to do – I was riding a high, a better high than any drug could give me.

"Kaitlyn," Cato warned, "you need to release it now."

"I am, just give me some time." I let it out painfully slow, aware of the depression that set in as I did.

Once I was done, Cato patted my shoulder. "It gets easier, letting go." He stood, brushed himself off, and walked a few yards along the shoreline. He started pulling in a rope that was mostly submerged underwater. Soon enough a large fish cage came into view and he yanked it up onto shore.

I ran over to help the struggling old man, feeling foolish it took me that long to offer assistance. "This will feed everyone at the Chakra for the next couple of nights. We pride ourselves on being self-sufficient."

I picked up the trap, shaking the fish into a burlap sack Cato held it open.

"You will have to excuse my gloating." He lowered his eyes, focusing on the sack. "It is normally the younger men that bring home the bacon, or fish."

"One of their many jobs here?"

"Oh, yes. Shawn, Micah, and Alex come here on Sundays and spend hours fishing. They do it the old fashioned way – a waste of time if you ask me."

"It is a good time for guys to talk, without exactly calling it a social event." I thought about how many hours Micah and Shawn had logged in their relationship. No wonder Micah didn't want to listen to my fears about Shawn.

"Ah," Cato said. "I suppose I don't partake then because I need to lead them, not socialize with them."

"Cato," I paused, placing my hand on his arm, "alienating your workers is not exactly the most effective way to lead them."

He clicked his tongue at me, "Thank you for the advice, dear. But we follow a very strict doctrine here that hasn't yet led us astray."

He began walking again and I followed him back toward the building. He took a different route than Shawn. This one actually had a groomed path.

I offered to carry the sack. Cato didn't argue so I threw it over my shoulder. "Those three are pretty good friends, then?"

"Shawn and Micah are, yes. They've been here together for a long time. Alex came only a few years ago. He doesn't have any powers, you know. In the past it was unheard of to include someone that doesn't have powers on the team, but Alex is good at what he does. He takes care of the all the logistics involved, letting us concentrate on our specialties. Besides, he keeps the team as a whole down to earth, so to speak."

"What do you mean?" I shifted the sack from one shoulder to another. I was starting to regret my offer to carry it.

"Sometimes we tend to get a little big-headed, having abilities that most others don't. When we get like that, he is quick to bring us right back down. It is good for us – especially for Shawn and Micah who have been around this most of their lives. Besides, we all love having Alex around, he reminds us why we do what we do."

I asked Cato, "Why do you do what you do, you know – besides living in seclusion and poverty?"

Cato smiled. "We each have our reasons."

_Cryptic, as usual_. I sighed.

The lights from the building blinked into view through the clearing.

Cato stopped me, laying a hand on my shoulder. "I fear, Kaitlyn my dear, that it will get much harder for you with us. You took the first step of commitment, but you must discover on your own why it is you choose to stay every day. That is something only you can do."

I gave him a reassuring smile, though it didn't seem to ease his concern. "I understand, Cato. I won't let you down. Now, let's get these fish inside before I start to smell like them."

I felt a cold trickle of water down my back. My nose wrinkled. The burlap sack was leaking all over the back of my shirt.

"I believe it's too late for that." Cato laughed.

"Not helpful! You could have told me it was leaking." I hurried for the kitchen, flopping the bag on the counter as soon as I could.

"Why do you think I let you carry it? Ahh, Micah – why don't you help our newest member with the fish?"

Micah paused, a bottle of beer halfway to his mouth.

"I must see about this owl," Cato said, turning away from the fish.

"I'm so glad to see you!" Micah set his beer down, sweeping me up in a bear hug.

"Whoa!" I struggled to maintain my balance. "Curb that enthusiasm, big guy."

Micah only set me down after Cato cleared his throat for the second time in the doorway.

"Oh, right." Micah seemed to get the clear warning. "I'm just happy to see you, is all."

Cato shook his head, "Your training, Kaitlyn, will become more intense. It will take well over a year before you may prove ready for missions. That is, unless your Ardwyad can work miracles." The entire time, Cato kept a chiding, raised eyebrow at Micah.

I looked at Micah, confused. Cato turned and disappeared into the hallway.

Micah didn't elaborate. Looking for a distraction, his eyes settled on the sack. "He took you fishing?"

"Kind of. We cheated." I helped him empty the sack onto the counter.

"I also see he did a saining for you." Micah used a small, damp kitchen towel to wipe the dirt off my forehead.

"Oh." I laughed.

"Sorry about that," Micah apologized for Cato. "He tends to be a bit ritualistic."

"No, no. It was...fun," I said.

"If you thought that was fun, you should've seen Cato a few years ago at a saining. He made it a household event and insisted everyone be skyclad."

"What's skyclad?" I asked, trying to stay out of Micah's way as he bustled around the kitchen gathering cutting boards and knifes.

Micah set a heavy-duty cutting board down on the counter with a thump and looked at me. "Nude."

My eyes widened as I tried not to dwell on the disturbing picture of Cato in his birthday suit. "Good times. Well, I am going to go clean up."

"Oh, no you're not." Micah grabbed my hand and dragged me back toward the fish on the counter.

"I'm not?"

"You're not." He placed a knife in my hand and retrieved one for himself. "You have to finish what you started." Micah began scraping scales off of the fish.

"What Cato started," I reminded him.

"You don't want to give Cato a knife right now – the medical team is asleep. Start scraping."

I sighed, but copied Micah, holding the fish upside down and scraping at the skin, from the tail down toward the gills. Scales flew everywhere.

"Keep your strokes short and quick." Micah shook his head, almost already done with the first fish. "Like this. Haven't you ever cleaned a fish before?"

"I've caught fish with my father, but we always threw them back. It felt wrong to watch them suffocate." I looked remorsefully at the dead, half-scaled fish I held in my hand.

"Fish gotta swim, Micah's gotta eat." He emphasized his point by chopping off the fish's head with a large cleaver. "It's the natural order of things. Make sure you get all the scales off around the fins, up the throat, and on the edge of the gills."

After I was done scaling, we brought our fish over to the sink and rinsed them.

"Now for the really fun part," Micah said. He inverted his fish so it was belly up; I mimicked him. "You need to cut here, basically removing his butthole." Micah made a little V shape on his fish, "Then cut from that hole to the head."

I did all of that with a wrinkled nose, "Not necessarily my idea of fun."

"But necessary, nonetheless. These fish will feed everyone at the—"

"—Chakra for the next couple of days." I finished his sentence for him.

"Too right," Micah said. "Now spread the fish open and take out the entrails."

I suffered through as quickly as possible. Upon inspection, Micah pulled out several pieces of god-knows-what, that I missed. We rinsed our fish, inside and out, thoroughly.

"There," I said, laying my fish down on a clean piece of wax paper. "Now I know how to clean a fish."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Micah was taunting me, waving the large cleaver in front of my face.

"Oh." I took the cleaver from him and in one clean stroke separated the fish's head from his body.

"Now for the rest of them," Micah said.

I withdrew the cleaver and water and blood went flying, "Bring them on."

"Ack," Micah exclaimed. I turned, his face was spotted with red.

"Oops. Sorry about that." I retrieved a hand towel from one of the drawers and tossed it to him.

I turned, resuming the gruesome work while he dabbed at his face. My back stiffened as I felt him move up behind me.

He bent down to my ear and whispered, "Sorry, Kaitlyn. I just can't let that one slide."

I felt a tug at the back collar of my shirt, and something far too cold and far too slimy slid down my spine. "Ew! Get it out – get it out!"

Micah burst out laughing as I danced around the kitchen attempting to dislodge the creature out from under my shirt, which was unfortunately tucked into my pants. I finally managed to untuck. Scales and fins slithered the rest of the way out and flopped to the floor.

Trying to gain some semblance of dignity wasn't happening, my body shuddered as chills continued to run up and down my back. Dignity be damned, I walked over to the counter, retrieved the fish I had been working on, and turned, throwing it straight at Micah. He caught it mid-air, but slipped on the very same one he shoved down my shirt.

"Ha!" I shouted, finally gaining the upper hand. Not yet willing to declare victory, I picked up one of the cutting boards containing half the fish, and tossed the lot on him. He returned fire with a fish-slap directly to my face.

"Hey! That one will bruise by morning!" I yelped as I ran around the counter for cover.

"Put some mud on it!" He yelled back, lobbing fish after fish aiming for the sound of my voice. A few of them hit their mark.

I started throwing back, but heard each one hit the tiled floor, not Micah. He had gone silent. _Crap._ I risked a peek over the counter. No Micah. Another peek around the side. Still no Micah. _Crap. Crap. Crap._

This was going to have to be a rush job, I wasn't sneaking up on anyone with my wet, squeaky shoes. I grabbed two of the biggest fish I could find, and launched myself over the counter, missiles ready. I landed on my feet, in the middle of an empty room.

My arms dropped to my sides, "Hello?"

I spun around, twice, for good measure. My hands went to my hips as I tapped my foot. "Did I scare you away?!"

Something crept over my shoulder. "Yes, Kaitlyn. You are _veeeery_ scary." I looked out of the corner of my eye. The biggest pair of fish lips I have ever seen were moving in time to Micah's poor Spanish accent.

I tried to hold it in, but couldn't. Laughter bubbled through my compressed lips, until I let out a full on snort.

I turned to find a big smile on Micah's face. He took a step closer, closing the distance between us. His nose wrinkled, "You smell like fish."

"You smell like blood," I retorted, attempting to give him a half-hearted slap on the shoulder with fish still in hand.

He caught my wrist. Tremors of energy coursed through him and into me; all projectiles were dropped. Our touch up until now only caused static shocks, but this time it was more like shockwaves. I shuddered, forcing it back into him, because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't.

The exchange glued us together. I tilted my chin up just as he inched his down, and our mouths found each other. _Tonight_ , I thought. _I'm ready tonight_.

He bent, picked me up and carried me to his room.
Chapter 14

Hypnotic Whispers

He set me down in his room; I gave an apprehensive look at the bed. We had both been there together, but not for this. Instead, he took my hand and led me to the shower. As sexy as we were both smelling right then, I didn't blame him.

Still smiling, he pulled me into the hot water fully clothed. We faced each other, peeling off our layers together. He was deliberately drawing it out. Come morning, there would be no convenient excuses. No 'I was drunk with power', no 'I was caught up in the moment'. We each had plenty of opportunity to stop.

Neither of us did.

As the last of our layers came off, I kept my eyes glued to our feet.

"Look at me," he said.

I folded my arms into my chest. He stopped me, "Look at me, Kaitlyn." He lifted my chin up. Micah was certainly looking at me, drinking me in entirely.

He poured soap over a washcloth and began lathering my body. First my arms, then circling down my chest, all the way to my legs then back up again. He pulled me in close, surrounding me with his strong arms to wash my back.

He was erect; his shaft pressed up against my belly. I took the washcloth from him and returned the favor. He groaned. His eyes closed in pleasure then opened again as I continued to stroke him.

He pulled on my hair, forcing my face to look up, "Are you sure? Because I don't think I can wait any longer."

I swallowed, hard, too nervous to speak. But I nodded yes. He turned the shower off, flung open the curtain, then kissed me. Our lips stayed locked as he guided us to the bed. I was resisting the urge to climb up him and ride him where he stood.

We threw ourselves on the bed, soaking the sheets through. I inched back as he hovered over me. His mouth moved down my neck, and over the soft tissue of my breast, alternately flicking his tongue and sucking on my nipples. His hand moved in between my legs, forcing them open. He slid one finger in, then two.

It was my turn to groan, "Micah..."

He stopped, shifting his body higher, but kept my legs open with his knees.

Pushing back strands of wet hair from my face, he pressed into me. I bit my lower lip. His length and girth caused me to gasp. He paused, bending to bite at my neck, while he held me in place, forcing me to accept him. He began whispering in my ear. It was another language, one I didn't recognize, but it was hypnotic, and I relaxed into him.

He pulled out, then in again. A slow, controlled rhythm. Currents sizzled into me each time he entered, and pleasure replaced the pain. My arms weaved around his sides and back, encouraging him. Micah thrust harder. His language became harsh. I braced myself under his weight, urging him to tear into me, over and over again.

Streams of energy running through me began to peak; they were as unstoppable as the tide. Micah paused, making one last push deep inside, and voltage consumed me. We each shuddered as shock crackled, then finally ebbed away. We caught our breath and sank into the soft bed. There were no words. Micah, still hovered protectively around me, pulled the sheets over and wrapped us in a cocoon. And there we stayed, not even emerging with the morning.
Chapter 15

Pleasant Conversations

Lungs aching for air, I was staring at the spot in between Micah's shoulder blades as he ran in front of me. A small bead of perspiration blossomed out through the cotton fibers of his shirt. I smiled in triumph – my training had begun a little over a week ago, and my running had quickly improved. He was actually breaking a sweat. Granted, it took seven miles to do it, but I would claim any small victory I could get.

My routine of lessons, workouts, and training sessions was at least predictable, unlike our sex life. Since the night of my saining, we hadn't made love together – at least not in the bed. The same could not be said about the walk-in freezer or the forested part of the grounds. We went with our bodies inclinations. When the mood hit; it was as impossible to ignore as a tidal wave. By the time our heads hit the pillow at night, we were too exhausted to do anything else but sleep.

Finishing the long run before breakfast and with no water breaks, I was anxious to get to the kitchen.

"Wait, I want to stay and help fix this panel," Micah said, changing course.

A foul ball in yesterday's baseball game between guards and medics cracked one of the solar panels. My mouth felt like cotton, but I stopped myself mid-protest. I wanted Micah by my side, working to make up for the hardship he instigated via death trek. At what point had I become so dependent on him? Barring my childhood, when had I ever been dependent on anyone?

Muttering excuses about being too sweaty and hungry to argue, I turned in the direction of the building and Micah sent me on my way with a hard pat on the butt. I gave him a dirty look, but he was already pulling on rubber gloves and surveying tools. Once inside, I limped down the long hallway. Blisters forced me to walk on the outside of one foot. Inevitably, I tripped and fell, hard. The loud thump of my body against the cold stone floor echoed down the empty corridor. Exhaustion triumphing over ego, I didn't even look to see if there were witnesses to my clumsiness. Instead, I slowly pushed myself up and identified the culprit.

Before I could remedy the untied shoelace, someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned, expecting to see Micah, but saw Shawn standing in a doorway that I could swear had been closed moments ago.

He leaned against the doorway, looking strangely gaunt. The dark circles around his eyes were gone but he was unshaven, and while it seemed as though he hadn't slept in days, he was sporting a serious case of bed head. Under my critical eye, he straightened his posture, smoothed out his clothes and ran his hand through his hair. It was slow motion, much like a model at a photo shoot. That was the Shawn we all knew and loved. He took a step toward me and I instinctively took a step back. Shawn smiled, pleased.

I turned away.

He grabbed my upper arm, "Leaving already? But we have yet to start a conversation, Princess Gaia."

"I could have a much more pleasant conversation with myself." I twisted my arm out of his tight grip. "So I think I will be on my way."

He moved around to block me, with almost lightning quick speed. "Trust me, Princess, nothing about this is going to be... pleasant." His bitter breath forced me back toward the open doorway and I looked behind my shoulder into the bedroom. There were clothes strewn everywhere, the bed was unmade, and it had the very distinct odor of Shawn. Suspecting the worst, I tapped into the frequency of the land that was done so easily before. My waves bounced back, hitting an invisible shield.

I looked at Shawn. He smirked. "It is time you understand what I can do."

I shook my head. "Not on the schedule for today."

I called for the energy again, more desperate now. It pulsated against Shawn's enclosing wall.

He actually laughed. "I've been doing this much longer than you, Princess."

He was right; the block was too stable to break through. I had to try something different. He had backed me far enough into his room that he could have shut the door behind us, but he didn't. His focus was entirely on the wall he had put up around us.

Shawn wasn't going to let me help myself, but perhaps I could still call for help. Casting aside any intentions I had regarding independence, I conjured an image of something that would get Micah's attention. It couldn't simply be of Shawn threatening me; it had to be much more devastating. I imagined being stabbed through the heart with a knife, and did my best to believe it myself. It became so real I could start to feel a dull pain in my chest. I pushed the image away gently, keeping energy and frequency out of it, trusting Micah to receive it.

I focused on the situation at hand. Shawn had said something. I frowned. "Huh?"

"I said I'm going to mark you, didn't you hear me?"

I shook my head no and glanced down to find he had produced a black-handled knife. Perhaps disappointed his threat went unnoticed, he gave me a suspicious look. "What were you doing just now?"

I widened my eyes, trying to look innocent. "What?"

"What are you up to?" The hand clutching the knife tightened around the black handle.

"Moronsayswhat?" I resorted to a child's antics in hopes of distracting him.

It worked, kind of. He forgot about my temporary hiatus from reality, but his face was slowly turning an ominous shade of red.

"Enough of your games, come here!" Contrary to his command, he came to me, or rather dove at me. He caught me full force in the gut, knocking the wind out of me with his shoulder. I didn't have time to be grateful for the soft landing on his bed, trying to catch my breath. Before I knew it, he had me flipped on my stomach and pinned down, sitting on my back. I bucked uselessly. Both of my arms were trapped by his knees. In one smooth swoop, he tore my shirt in half, ripping it away. I tried one last time to gather energy, but it was no use. He wasn't simply blocking energy from me, he was draining it away.

A sharp pain pierced my right shoulder blade. I let out a cry. It felt like molten fire touching my skin and if I hadn't seen the knife I would have thought he was using a branding iron. The smell of burning flesh hit me and I fought back the urge to throw up. The blade made a distinct circle followed by a series of other short cuts.

"Quit being so dramatic," he scoffed. "I'm nearly halfway done. This is going to be–"

"What in the hell are you doing?" A booming voice at the door surprised us both.

Shawn jumped off of me, leaving me to scramble up the remaining shreds of my shirt to cover myself, I moved to the opposite side of the bed. Micah stood in the doorway staring us down. Both of us. As if we were partners in crime!

He turned to Shawn first. "Explain yourself."

Shawn looked down, babbling something incoherent.

Micah gave up on him after a few seconds and turned to me. "Turn around."

I obeyed, letting him see the damage Shawn inflicted.

Micah took a few steps toward Shawn. "She is not yours. I thought that was fairly obvious."

"It is not about her," Shawn replied. "It's about you; I'm trying to help you – to prevent what happened to me from happening to you."

"Bullshit. What is this really about?"

I watched Shawn scrutinize Micah, as if he were debating divulging a secret.

"Cato might not be around much longer," Shawn finally answered.

"So?" Micah crossed his arms.

"So one of us might be taking over for him. Whether it is you or me doesn't matter, but The Seven needs to go in a different direction."

" _Which_ direction would that be, Shawn?"

"We don't need a Gaia. I am already absorbing powers much faster than Cato. This..." Shawn held up his knife, still stained with my blood, "among other things I've discovered, will only increase the acquisition rate."

I felt blood trickling down my back from my shoulder wound and didn't do anything to stop it. _To hell with both of them; I hope it stains the carpet._ I gave my shoulders a little shake to encourage the blood flow. Unfortunately, this caught their attention and both stopped arguing to look at me.

"Kaitlyn." Micah narrowed his eyes, "Go to the lab and wait there."

I started to the door and snapped at him, "Because waiting around for you worked out so well for me last time." I peeked out into the hallway, hesitating to leave the room in such a state.

Micah gave Shawn a look that must have meant more to Shawn than to me, because Shawn huffed and walked over to one of his drawers and pulled out a long-sleeve dark cotton shirt that buttoned down the front. He handed it to me. "Here."

"You are just too kind." I drawled, but I took the shirt. It was better than nothing.

Shawn leaned in. "We'll resume our pleasant conversation later, Princess."

Micah took a few steps closer to us and bent down slightly to meet Shawn's eyes. "You will have nothing more to do with her. You and I, however, are a different matter, and we will resume _our_ conversation later; after I take care of your mess."

Oh, so I am a mess now.

Micah took me by the arm, careful not to disturb my hurt shoulder, and led me to the lab. I shot him a dirty look. Angry energy pulsed off me in waves.
Chapter 16

White Noise

Micah prepped a long table by placing a white sheet over the top and setting towels, bowls with water, and cotton balls nearby. After removing Shawn's shirt, he had me lay face down and draped my upper body with another white sheet. A few minutes later a small team came in and set even more equipment on the table; enough that could have stocked a small hospital.

"Is this necessary?" I asked Micah.

Avoiding my question, he retrieved a stool, placed it at the end of the table, and sat down so his eyes were level with mine. "This may hurt a bit."

I felt the sheet being pulled down to reveal the wound. "What do you mean? Don't they have anesthetic with all this medical junk?" I turned around, partly directing my question at the team now bent over me, but they ignored me. All I was to them was an injured shoulder.

Micah took my hand in his. "Shawn used his athame to make the cuts. It is a knife that, to him, represents choice and the ability to separate things."

"So?"

"So, it is supposed to reveal what is true and kill that which is false. He made it with metals that direct a magical energy, a male energy, that don't necessarily mesh well with some Gaias. We don't want to introduce anything else into your system that could cause a bad reaction."

"So there are inanimate objects that, what, hate me?" I looked at him, not questioning it. I was open to believing just about anything at this point.

"There is a balance to everything – for every element that works with you, something exists that works against you."

The medics cleaned my shoulder. I smelled alcohol, wincing when it hit my shoulder.

I paused, sucking in a breath through my nose, trying to ignore the sting. I looked at him. "Well, the damage is done. But, still, don't you think this could have been prevented?"

He looked at me, pressing his lips together. "Yes, and I'm...sorry. I should have taken what you said about Shawn more seriously. It's just that, I've known him most of my life and I don't quite understand him right now. I promise I won't let anything like this happen again."

This was a change from his usual, confident self. He looked so pathetic that it took an effort on my part not to console him.

A sudden sharp pain in my shoulder hit. I hissed. Several hands instantly moved to hold me down tight, including Micah's. I struggled. They just held me tighter.

"The needle is in," Micah said. "The worst part is over now."

But it wasn't. Every time the needle pierced my skin I felt the length of it being pushed in, and then the thread as it worked its way through the hole. I broke out in a sweat, fighting back waves of nausea. Micah positioned a bucket by the table as close to my mouth as he could manage.

"Thanks." I tried to smile. "You should know I don't have the highest tolerance for pain." As if to emphasize my point, I grimaced as the needle pushed its way through yet again.

Micah stood to check the progress, then sat again. "Almost halfway finished."

"That's what Shawn said right before you came in, guns blazing." I suddenly had a horrible revelation. "He is going to want to finish the job."

Micah's face turned to stone. "He is not going to get the opportunity. I'll make sure of that."

Doubt crept into my mind.

Micah lifted my chin and stared into my eyes, "I promise you, nothing like this will ever happen again."

"You and I need to talk about this, this...mind reading thing." I was losing the battle against my nausea. "Later – I need that bucket!"

Five minutes later, I was dry heaving into the bucket. _Good thing Shawn stopped me before I made it to the kitchen._ My shoulder was stitched up and bandaged. The medics gave strict instructions; no water on my shoulder, no exercise for a week, and change the bandages twice a day.

"How does it look?" I asked Micah. "I mean, what is it, exactly?"

He lifted the bandage gingerly and peered at my shoulder as if he hadn't just been staring at it for half an hour. "It is a circle with a triangle inside of it."

"What does it mean?"

Micah leveled with me, "It is a symbol – we used to mark all of our Gaias with it."

_Like cows, lining up for the branding._ My face heated in anger.

"Several years ago, Cato outlawed the practice – said it was too inhumane."

"Ya think?"

He didn't have a chance to respond. One of the medics announced mud treatments would have to wait a few days, and that there would be a scar. The room grew silent and everyone looked down in unison.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

No one answered right away.

Finally Micah stood up, handed me a fresh shirt, and said, "No matter how bad we get wounded, there is hardly ever scarring. We can use the elements here to help us heal quickly and flawlessly. It's just that, what Shawn used was like poison to you. It will never completely heal."

"Oh. Well, I'll have to rid my wardrobe of all my tube tops..." I looked around hoping to lighten the mood, but apparently a sense of humor was left out along with the anesthetic.

At least Micah smiled. After a few moments he clapped his hands twice. "All right guys, thank you for your assistance. I'll keep an eye on it and let you know if we need anything."

After the last one had gone, he turned to me. "Are you hungry, do you need anything?"

"No," I said, "Just water." I looked at the bucket. "And a walk." The claustrophobic feeling of Shawn's energy wall was still with me. I needed fresh air.

Micah helped me down from the table and we went outside, after stopping in the kitchen to get a bottle of water. We headed toward the gardens, slowly. Each movement sent shooting pain from my shoulder down my arm, but walking was better than trying to lie down.

Micah babbled. I'm not sure if it was for my sake or his. He commented on the schedule and how he would have to make several changes to it, given my temporary physical disability.

"Oh darn, no running," I said.

He nodded. "We'll have to concentrate on some of the more mental activities."

That didn't sound promising. "Like what?"

"Like, we can sit around while I try to read your mind," Micah said, laughing as I took a swing at him.

Pain shot through my shoulder. I winced. It seemed completely possible that I had already ripped out some of the stitches.

"Let me see." Micah turned me so he could study my shoulder. "You're seeping." He produced extra gauze from his cargo pocket along with medical tape. He flipped the back of my shirt over my head.

"Hey!" I protested. _How is it, with a house full of men, that I am the only one always losing my shirt?_

"Hold still, no one can see us." He worked on me for a few moments, then replaced my shirt. "Good as new. Now to keep that arm still." Micah stepped back, looked me over, then took off his jacket and tied the sleeves together. He placed the loop above my good shoulder on one side and down by my waist on the other side, creating a make-shift sling.

I put my elbow in the sling. "That works, I guess." I shrugged then winced in pain again.

Micah shook his head. "You're hopeless."

We continued walking and before I knew it, we had ended up in a part of the garden that was new to me. We sat down on a bench surrounded by blooming Cherry Blossoms. I looked up at them. An occasional gust of warm wind came through, catching white and pink petals that made several circles around us until they finally settled on the ground.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying myself, until a very distinct tickle snapped me out of my stupor. "Stop that!" I sat up quickly and grimaced at the pain that shot through my shoulder.

"So you can feel that?" Micah studied my face.

"Yes, I can." We both sat in silence until I spoke again, nearly snapping at him. "Did you find out what you wanted to know?"

"How do you know what I was doing?"

"I don't know, I just...know."

"Well, to answer your question, there wasn't much going on in there." He moved his foot before I could stomp on it. "But I did get the short version of what happened in Shawn's room." I didn't say anything. "You know, you can stop me from doing that."

"How?" I sat up a little straighter. What goes on in one's mind is ultimately private, a person's true sanctuary, or so I thought.

"You sent me a message earlier, a call for help. The image was somewhat exaggerated..."

"It worked," I said.

"That it did. But you could most likely do the same thing now; send out a signal specifically to me. Something that, for lack of a better term, jams the frequency. Do you want to try?"

"Okay."

"Okay, here I go."

It wasn't too long before I felt the familiar tickle, and I began to fill my head with white noise and static. I didn't know what else to send, and his references to electronics gave me the idea. The tickle distracted me to the point where images in my mind came and went, but I kept working at it. Once the static was as big and steady as I could manage, I sent it out, straight at Micah like an arrow.

He immediately doubled over, clutching his ears. He screamed, "Stop! Stop it!"

There was nothing I could stop; the vision was gone. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to do!"

I stood up and was about to shout for help when he put his hand on me, "No, don't. It's gone now."

"Are you okay?"

"My ears are ringing, but I'm all right. It's my fault, we should have started smaller." He righted himself, shook his head as if to rid it of the remaining bits of static, then gave me a reassuring smile. "You are a quick learner."

"Yes. Not something I'm particularly proud of at the moment." I offered him the rest of my water and he declined mumbling about saving it for whatever other disasters should come my way today.

"Come on, there is something I want to show you." He took my hand and led me further into the gardens, pushing aside branches of the trees as we went. Soon we stepped into a small clearing, an almost perfect circle in the center of thick brush, shrubs and trees. A giant boulder sat in the center, looking out of place. I studied it.

"This," Micah announced proudly, "is the center of the Chakra. A large part of the energy contained within the Chakra resides here. The rock was excavated from underneath this exact spot, about 50 feet underground. Cato believes the rock has some sort of significance; although he has never said what."

"And you?" I asked.

"Not sure, but..."

I watched him. "But what?"

"Animals seem to be attracted to the rock. They manage to chip away pieces."

I moved closer to see dozens of small gashes, scratches, and chunks missing.

"We do our best to keep them away, but critters can be persistent. I came out here once just in time to hear something scurry away. It left some of its loot behind." Micah produced something small from his pocket. He held his hand up close to my face and opened it slowly. A piece of rock, similar to the coloring of the larger boulder beside us, sat in his hand.

I took it from him, running the pad of my finger over its smooth surface. It wasn't rough like the boulder.

Micah shrugged sheepishly, "Many years of rubbing. It keeps me calm. It's like my good luck charm."

"Oh."

"You can have it."

"Oh, no. It's obviously, umm, special to you." I tried to hand it back.

"It is special to me, and so are you. That is why I want you to keep it. Besides, you can use a little luck." Just as he placed his hand around my own to push the rock back toward me, a small blue butterfly landed on the rock. It was smaller than the one I'd seen at my saining, but just as beautiful. Micah and I both stared in awe, careful not to breathe and scare away the delicate little insect. I risked a glance to the sky, keeping watch for any more hungry owls.

"See?" Micah whispered in my ear. "There is something about that rock." Our hands, still locked together, were as sturdy as an oak. "One of our former Gaias could send messages, similar to what you do with me, only with animals. The animal would eventually find the intended recipient, or pass on the message to another of their kind until the message was delivered." I cut off my own snort as I mentally discarded the image of kangaroos playing telephone. _How distorted would that message be?_

The butterfly stayed a few seconds longer, then fluttered off, disappearing in a swirl of falling cherry blossom petals. I smiled and said in a low, distracted voice, "I think I _will_ hang on to this for a while."

He smiled. "Come on, let's get you something to eat."
Chapter 17

By the Book

Micah burst into the library, "Cato!"

A throat cleared from the back of the room, "By the tree, Micah."

Before he even reached Cato, Micah was talking, knocking over stacks of books as he pounded past them. "Do you know what he did to her? I thought we were through with that archaic practice."

Cato patiently waited until Micah came into view, then asked, "You are alone?"

"Kaitlyn is in bed."

"Good. She will need her rest no doubt, with the training schedule you created." Cato set down the book he had been reading. "To answer your question, The Seven is no longer marking Gaias or Elementals. But apparently Shawn has taken it upon himself to continue the practice – he admitted to doing so even with Sarah."

Micah crossed his arms, "He has gone too far."

Cato raised one eyebrow, "May I remind you, Ardwyad, that with the fate of a Gaia looming over Kaitlyn's head, what Shawn did pales in comparison."

Micah's flinch did not escape Cato.

Cato narrowed his eyes, "Despite your relations with her, I assure you, Kaitlyn is no different from every other Gaia we've had. Her mission remains the same; as does yours. There can be no deviation."

"Do not preach to me Cato. I can probably recite the doctrine better than you." Despite the bite in his voice, Micah kept his glower planted firmly at Cato's feet.

"Of that, I have no doubt, my boy."

Micah raised his chin, "But Shawn is a loose cannon. He is a danger to us all, and especially to Kaitlyn. If it is my job to protect her—"

Cato held up his hand, effectually interrupting Micah, "Say no more." Cato smiled, looking on approvingly at Micah, "Always on mission."

Micah met Cato's eyes with a hard stare, his jaw set.

Cato cleared his throat again, "I've sent Shawn away to liaison with the Spanish government for our upcoming visit."

"But he'll be back?"

The smile disappeared from Cato's face, "He is your brother, after all."

"The mission of The Seven supersedes everything else, including family ties." Micah turned to leave, but looked back at Cato, "Like the doctrine says, right Cato?"

Cato was left without words.
Chapter 18

As Always

The next couple weeks were more relaxing than any since arriving at the Chakra. According to Micah, Shawn was sent away on temporary hiatus from The Seven, which helped relieve a lot of tension. Still, my shoulder was taking a long time to heal, even with mud treatments. Micah rarely left my side, for which I was thankful. We spent a lot of time talking and I took on a less physically demanding training agenda. Alex trained me on weapons, which consisted of anything I could operate using only my left hand. And, of course, the rest of my time was spent on mental exercises with Micah.

The mental exercises at times were more taxing than physical training, ending with both of us covered in sweat – a real problem considering I couldn't shower with my shoulder still healing. Micah ran at least two baths for me each day, and developed a time consuming hobby of creating different herb mixtures using a variety of flowers found around the Chakra.

Although we spent most waking moments of the day together, and shared the same bed every night, he kept a respectful distance. He made no more sexual advances, which was fine with me. Our relationship had escalated too quickly. The gap seemed healthy. It allowed us time to get to know each other. We had a similar sense of humor, which I found fortunate. Unfortunately, we also shared a similar sense of competition. After dinner we often played card games to fill the time. Inevitably the loser would spend the rest of the evening sulking. Our only reprieve was when others joined us – Micah and I worked well as a team. The others seldom had a chance.

Micah dealt the cards to a group of four of us as we played spades in the living room. Sitting opposite each other as partners, Micah and I had the advantage in play, letting one another know what was in our hands. It was a mental exercise at which we were becoming masters. Underneath the table we kept our bare feet locked together. It was easier to communicate if we were touching. Our points grew steadily and evenly. Alex was getting more frustrated with each hand and Cato, who only played at my insistence, quickly learned to keep his bids small. I won the hand.

Cato took the cards from Micah, shuffling them before dealing. He pushed the deck to Micah to cut it. "A few more tricks and Micah and Kaitlyn will be at 500 – do you want to go another round?"

"Oh, they have more than just a few tricks." Alex mumbled. "They're cheating."

"Now, Alex," Cato scolded. "Those who blame their failures on others have only failed themselves."

Alex gave a dismissive grunt. A tickle inside my head meant Micah was trying to send a message. I opened up to it. The corner of my mouth rose slightly, letting him know I understood. At the same time each of us selected all of the spades from our hand and pushed them toward Alex.

As expected, Alex turned bright red and slammed his hand down on the table. Cards scattered across the room. "I don't need your charity!"

I stifled a giggle and Micah turned away to hide his smile. Cato raised an eyebrow at the two of us, then pushed himself away from the table. He crossed his arms and addressed Alex. "It is just a game, Alex. What exactly is troubling you?"

Alex stood, turned and began walking away.

"Alex." Cato's voice echoed through the room. Alex stopped in his tracks, reluctantly turning around. He took a couple of deep breaths, then walked back.

"It's just..." Alex paused and looked at me.

"Yes?" Cato prodded.

"I'm bored. I do nothing all day. Spend maybe an hour a day with Kaitlyn, because Micah keeps coddling her shoulder. You know if we have to ship out soon, she is not going to be prepared. But it's not just that." Alex paced. "There are no missions to plan, no projects for me to help with, there is nothing for me to do. I feel...useless."

Cato leaned back in his chair and looked Alex over, studying him. Finally he spoke, "I agree. You need something to do. Come see me in my office tomorrow morning, before Kaitlyn's lesson."

Alex kept looking at Cato, waiting for more of the plan.

Cato, however, was not known for oversharing. "You may excuse yourself now. We could do without another outburst."

Alex threw his hands up in the air and left the room, stomping as he went.

Micah cleared his throat and began cleaning up the mess. I helped by collecting the cards. Cato broke the silence, "You two are getting good at that."

We both paused momentarily to give Cato an innocent ' _I don't know what you are talking about'_ look.

Cato narrowed his eyes at us. "Don't give me that. I know what you are up to."

Micah came to our defense, "We have been spending a lot of time on mental exercises. We can't do much else until Kaitlyn heals. Anyway, her mastery of this particular discipline is more important than any other. If something goes wrong on assignment she has the rest of us to help her out."

Cato raised an eyebrow. "You know that isn't always the case. Many a time a Gaia has been left fending for herself. Although I will admit, Kaitlyn is quickly becoming one of the most powerful I have seen in my lifetime."

I tried my best to suppress a prideful smile.

"Which isn't always a good thing, mind you." Cato gave me a pointed look. "You need time yet to heal, but you can't just sit around doing nothing. Otherwise I might be dealing with tantrums from three people. I want you to continue doing your exercises, but with another focus. You need to learn to interact with nature, not with Micah." He turned back to Micah, "Incorporate more elements into the exercises. And she needs to learn to do it under distress, or with severe distraction."

Cato stood slowly and looked at me again, "Once you have mastered that, you can go on to handling several tasks at once."

"Oh, can I?" I let slip a little more sarcasm than intended.

"I'll leave it to Micah to mind the details." Cato placed a hand on my good shoulder. "I don't envy you. Micah can be a tough teacher."

I glanced at Micah, but he appeared to be deep in thought. I let out a sigh of regret. Cato laughed and patted my shoulder hard, twice.

I listened to Cato's slow footsteps echo down the hallway, then finished picking up the mess, letting Micah sit with his thoughts.

As I slipped the last card on top of the deck, he snapped to. I shook my head. "Questionable timing, as always."

He smiled, standing and grabbing my hand to pull me to my feet. "Come on, you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be an... interesting day."

Half an hour later, we were both buried under a nest of blankets, intertwined with each other. His breathing said he was having just as much trouble falling asleep as I was.

"Do you have any regrets?" Micah whispered hesitantly into the darkness. "I mean, with me?"

I didn't respond right away, carefully concocting an answer in my head. "I'll admit things moved quickly for us, but I don't regret anything that has happened between us," I added, "so far." I was fully aware Micah was capable of anything, and I was certain I had not witnessed his worst hour, or his best for that matter.

Micah didn't answer right away himself. He left it long enough that I began to wonder if he was going to answer at all. "I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath, so quietly I could barely hear.

"For what?" I whispered back.

He never answered. A few minutes later his breath slowed with sleep.

Questionable timing, as always.
Chapter 19

Eyes on the Prize

The next morning Micah escorted me to Alex's training room without giving me a chance to finish our conversation from last night. Alex jumped into the lesson right away on, of all things, whips, using only my left hand. My right arm no longer needed a sling, but neither was it very useful.

I started by simply trying to hit a mark with the whip. Alex dipped the end of it in red paint every so often so he could track where my hits were landing. He instructed me to use some of my "voodoo" as he so eloquently put it to encourage the whip to hit its mark. Not that he knew much about that side of the business. I glanced at Micah for moral support only to discover he was no longer there; the distraction earned me a sharp bite at the ankle.

"Ow! You drew blood!" I accused Alex as I turned just in time to see him retracting his whip.

He smiled. "Keep your eyes on the prize – and the prize is not Micah."

"Says you," I mumbled underneath my breath. "Why are you in such a good mood, anyway?" I took a shot at his leg and missed, but managed to draw blood from my other ankle when I pulled in my whip using the wrong technique. "Damn it!"

Alex guffawed; his smile was contagious. I couldn't help but follow suit. He brought over the first aid kit and started tearing open Band-Aids. We sat down in the middle of the floor, Alex bandaging my ankles, until our giggles subsided.

Silence settled over us.

"I talked to Cato this morning," Alex said.

"Aaand..." I prompted.

"Aaand, we are going on assignment," his eyes lit up.

"We, as in..."

"All of us." Now he sounded like a kid in a candy shop with a fifty dollar bill.

I did not share his enthusiasm, "I thought I wasn't supposed to be ready for missions until after a year of training." I fiddled with a piece of thread hanging from the hem of my shorts.

He cleared his throat and made a visible effort to tone down his excitement. "Cato said it is a small assignment, and that maybe we all needed a break from the Chakra."

"When do we leave?"

"Next week." He scooted closer beside me, "Don't worry about it, you'll do fine, Katie."

I lifted my eyes to him. Alex had picked up the habit of calling me Katie, just like my parents used to.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but the sound of the door opening cut him off.

"Alex?" Micah hesitated in the doorway. "I have to take Kaitlyn now..."

Alex hopped up, then extended his hand to me. "That's okay, I have lots to do." He gave me a wink and took my whip. "To be continued."

"Yeah, just wait until I can use my right hand." I challenged, watching him over my shoulder as Micah led me out of the room.

We walked toward the kitchen in silence, Micah strangely withdrawn.

I tried to start a conversation. "Where did you go?"

"Cato summoned me," he said. "Did Alex tell you?"

"About the assignment?" I asked.

He gave something barely classifiable as a nod, "Yes."

"Do you think I am ready?"

"I think you are strong, but, the only way to tell if you are ready is by trial. We only have a few days before we leave. We're going to step up our game."

"Ok, what did you have in mind?"

He avoided my gaze. "You'll see. Let's just do this before I change my mind."

I frowned, discomfort hitting my stomach at the foreboding statement. He led me through the kitchen and into the walk-in freezer. Micah pulled on a handle and a gust of cold air rushed out at us. I looked up at him confused.

Taking a deep breath, he finally met my eyes. "Whatever happens, just concentrate. Try to remember this is only going to help you and...don't hate me."

"What?"

He grabbed my arm and pulled me deeper into the large freezer, forcing me to take a seat on a chair in the middle of the room before I could react. He tied my hands to either side of the chair and started in on my feet.

I thrashed, trying to free my arms from the bindings while keeping my legs away from the rope. I felt my shoulder wound rip open. The fresh whip cuts on my ankles fared no better. "What are you doing?"

His only response was a rough tug at my ankle, tying it to the leg of the chair as quickly as possible. He stood, grabbed a flower pot off of the shelf, and set in on my lap.

I looked at it, still doing my best to pull myself free and only succeeding in making the chair rock back and forth. A pot of dirt. He reached into his pocket, pulled out something small, and tossed it unceremoniously on the dirt.

"This is a seed; you need to make it grow. When there's a bud, I will let you loose." He turned toward the door.

"Wait!" I called after him, my teeth already starting to chatter. "Why in here?"

"Cold is a good distraction." He didn't look at me.

I suddenly remembered Cato's orders and groaned inwardly. "You are just going to leave me here? Why can't you freeze your ass off too? I thought we were partners!"

He stepped outside, pushing the door halfway shut. "Because anger is also a good distraction." The door closed with a loud thump.

So help him, if by some miracle I ever did get this plant to grow, and he let me loose... I thought of all the things I would do to him, put a mental push behind the images and sent it to Micah. All I got in return was the image of a budding plant. I set the plant on fire in my mind, but erased the picture before sending it out. I needed to conserve my energy. I clenched my jaw, trying to stop the chattering, but it was no use. It only spread, making the rest of my body shiver violently. The thin workout clothes I wore did nothing to ward away the cold. He wasn't going to let me die in here, but resolve set in. _Damn if I would fail this task. I'll finish quickly and then let Micah feel the full brunt of my anger._

I looked at the pot sitting on my lap. First things first, the seed needed to bury itself. I tried to send the seed images of dirt completely surrounding it but nothing happened. Stupid idea. Probably only animate objects could receive thoughts. Next I let half the pot slip in between my legs and I held it firmly there. The cold ceramic instantly stuck to my bare skin and burned. I shook my entire body as violently as I could. The seed just bounced around on top of the dirt. I shouted. "Stupid seed!"

I huffed in anger and continued to think. The brief undertaking kept my mind off of the cold, but now it was quickly seeping back into my bones. I thought of Micah, warm in the kitchen, probably enjoying a hot lunch. "Anger is a good distraction," I huffed under my breath. "I'll show you anger." Then it hit me. "Yes, I will show you anger."

I conjured memories of the typhoon in India, memories of my parents funeral, and even memories of Shawn. I kept them strong and stable in my mind, then tapped into the frequency of the earth below the house, drawing in its energy. I felt it shake slightly in response. "Not enough," I muttered. Next I sent the borrowed energy back, shooting into the ground. The earth rolled harder. I repeated the process, sucking in waves then returning them with all the anger I could conjure. Frozen food began falling off of the shelves around me, but the rumbling and shaking was doing its job. Small dirt particles were jumping around in the pot, and the seed slowly disappeared into the nest of soil. As soon as I thought the seed was down far enough, I stopped the energy waves. The earth didn't subside immediately, but eventually settled. I focused back into my surroundings. I wasn't shivering anymore, which was probably a bad thing. Exhaustion was starting to set in. The cold and my exertions were causing my body to shut down.

All I had done so far was bury the seed. At least the seed was warmer, maybe I could bury myself in the dirt too. My thoughts drifted...I was falling asleep, and I didn't care.

Several loud bangs on the door snapped me to, and I almost instantly received another image of a budding plant. I blinked twice, trying to focus. Oh yeah, back to work. So we had the dirt. What else did a plant need to grow? Water and sunshine. Not sure how I was going to get sunshine, short of mooning the plant. I decided to concentrate on the water part of the plan. _Water, water, water._ All the water in here was frozen. I sighed. That sunshine would come in handy. Enough about my butt, back to the water. _Water, water, water._ After considering my own spit another thought came to me. Would pure energy melt ice? I looked up and saw ice had formed on the ceiling of the freezer.

That'll work.

I reached for what energy was left, without drawing from anything else. I figured it would be more pure coming from one source. I directed it at the ice right above me and sure enough it began to melt. Small drops of cold water fell from the ceiling, and only a few hit the soil in the pot. I needed more. I dug deeper within, finding the last scraps of energy and directed it at the ceiling. After a few moments more water began to fall; enough to soak the soil at least in the middle of the pot. I tapped into the frequency of the water, found at a much higher pitch than earth, and encouraged it toward the center of the pot. The last of me went into that seed.
Chapter 20

Sparks

An annoying rubbing at my legs woke me. I couldn't move well, still stiff from the cold. I turned my head and a chair came into focus. The binds which previously held me now hung off in shreds. I kicked my leg awkwardly. "Quit it."

Micah's head popped into view. "She's awake."

Next, one of the medics also came into view and shined a bright light in my eyes. I squinted. "She looks like she is going to be ok. Can you get up?"

"I think." I was pulled to my feet and several hands worked to steady me as I wobbled.

The medic looked at Micah. "She could use a few hours in the lab."

"No." Micah shook his head. "We aren't done training. I'll keep an eye on her. Just stand by."

The medic shrugged his shoulders, packed his things, and left. Micah let go of me long enough to fetch the pot, and he shoved it in front of my face.

I peeked in to find a tiny green bud poking out from the dirt. A wide smile creased my face. "Hey! It worked!" My excitement turned to disdain once I remembered the freezer. "You! You're a jerk!" I took a step away from him and the potted wonder, slipped on something that went sliding across the floor, and fell hard on my backside. My fall was broken by something with sharp, jagged edges. I winced, not yet willing to move again. "What happened in here?" I carefully turned over to find the floor covered in broken plates, bowls, and glasses. I looked up to find the cupboards all hanging open.

"There was a small earthquake while you were in there." Micah looked down at me.

"Small is an understatement." Cato walked in, carefully dodging broken bits of dishware. He came to stand next to Micah and they both shot accusing glances at me.

"What? It's not my fault. There was no other way to plant that seed. What do you expect?"

"You were planting a seed? A bit overkill, I venture to guess." Cato turned to look at Micah. "Perhaps you need to give her a few options with each task. Solutions that might not bring down the entire Chakra."

Like Cato had done anything of the sort with the fish. He told me to go it alone; every Gaia had their own way of doing it. _Hypocrite._

Cato leaned over, looking at the pot while I picked myself off the ground with what little dignity I had left. "I think it should be placed in the greenhouse – do you mind, Kaitlyn?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Take it yourself." I headed for the door, carefully pulling a small shard of glass from my backside. I had enough of both of them.

Micah took the pot from Cato, yelling after me, "We aren't finished yet!"

I yelled back even louder, "Well I'm finished with you!"

I stomped out, forcing my legs to work, and started toward his room. Our room. It still felt more like his room. I turned to find somewhere else, then paused. I didn't know where to go – there was no place I could really claim as mine. Maybe the lab – I spent more time there than the medics. Standing there, frozen, gave Micah enough time to catch up.

"We have one more training session to do," he said. "I'd rather just get it over with."

"I don't think so," I snapped. "You went overboard with that one."

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you. Right now I'm responsible for your training, and I won't skimp on it just because you can't handle the cold."

"I can't handle it? I can't _handle_ it?" I turned to look at him, eyes blazing. "Your freakin' plant grew, didn't it?"

"Yeah, at the expense of the rest of the Chakra, and everyone in it!"

That did it. I grabbed the pot out of his hands, raised it above my head and released it. The pot shattered on the ground, dirt flying everywhere. "There. Now the damn plant matches your damn Chakra."

Micah cursed as he bent down to retrieve the budding seedling. The noise of shattering ceramic drew a crowd who was already on edge due to the earthquake. Heads peeped out of doorways and Cato emerged from the kitchen. I turned to glare at the intruders. "Well, do you see sparks yet?!"

Micah hissed, "Kaitlyn, let's continue this somewhere else. You're scaring them."

"No, Micah. They all paid to see sparks. I'm just giving them what they want." I snatched the small plant out of his cupped hands and held it in my own. I didn't know exactly what I planned to do with it, but a fraction of a second later the plant went up in flames. Startled, I threw it away from me, toward some of the onlookers. They gasped and leaped back. Just as quickly as the crowd appeared, it dispersed.

I stared at the smoldering plant on the floor, nursing my singed hands.

Micah frowned, looking at me. "How did you do that?"

"I... I, don't think I did."

Cato stepped forward. "I did. I got rid of the source of your argument, along with your audience."

"Believe me, Cato. The plant is not the source of trouble here." I said as I stared at Micah.

"I'm not so sure about that. Now that you two have stopped yelling at each other, why don't you go talk things through? I think the greenhouse would be a good place, nice and quiet."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Your next task is set up in the greenhouse." Micah held up his hands innocently. "All I'm asking is for you to take a look. If you don't want to do it, you don't have to."

I looked between Cato and Micah, accusing them each silently before meeting Micah's eyes. "Come on then, I'll kick this task's ass and then I'll kick yours."

The greenhouse sat apart from the main building, opposite of the gardens. It wasn't a large structure, maybe only three times the size of Micah's bedroom.

"The room has elevated levels of oxygen," Micah said before I could comment on the change in the air. "We recently locked it down so none of the oxygen the plants produce can get out. It's a makeshift hyperbaric chamber in here. He pointed to a gauge on the wall. It is approaching dangerous levels of oxygen toxicity."

I shook my head. "Oxygen toxicity. Is that a thing?"

"A very real thing."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"Reverse it. Make the air breathable."

I crossed my arms over my chest and thought for a minute.

"You should know I'm not really sure how long we can stay in here safely. It could be a few minutes; it could be a few days."

"So you are going to stick around this time?" I drawled.

"Well, yeah," he said. "This time I am the distraction."

" _You_ are the distraction?"

"Yes." He took a step toward me as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

I took a step back, wondering if he was gearing up for a fight or... something else.

"So how about it?" He dropped his shirt on the ground leaving his chest bare.

"How about what?"

"The air, your task. It begins now."

_Oh, yeah_ , I had already forgotten. He was good at this. I was still backing up and inevitably ran into a table holding several plants. The pots clinked together. He reached out for my waist and I grabbed his wrist to try and stop him. I didn't put much effort into it because for every ounce of me that wanted him to stop, another ounce wanted him to keep going. Suddenly he had both hands around my waist and I was lifted up onto the table. He forced his way in so he was standing between my legs. I held my breath. He leaned in for a kiss and I turned my head at the last second, dodging what would have been my downfall. "You know I'll fight you."

He smiled and bent closer to my ear. "Kaitlyn, I wouldn't expect anything less."

I reached down by my side, feeling for the closest pot. _Found it._ My strike was quick and I thought unexpected, but he reached up just in time to block it from hitting the side of his head. The pot went crashing to the ground. The attempt failed, but it did give me enough time to wriggle away from him. Sliding backwards across the table, potted plants scattered as I went. I was almost to the other side when he grabbed my ankle and pulled me back toward him. I looked back, conflicted. I wanted so much to beat him at his own game, but I ached to give in and let him have his way with me. Above all, I had the desire to make him pay. I went with that last notion and I kicked out with my other leg, landing it square in his chest with enough force to send him stumbling backward. Without pausing to watch him fall, I pulled myself the rest of the way across the table, putting a barrier in between us.

Micah recovered, rubbing my shoe print out of his chest. "That one stung." He strutted closer to his side of the table. I kept my guard up but started to consider my options for the air. I had no clue how to go about it. I looked around at the panes of glass surrounding us. The fastest way to right the air had to be just breaking some panes. I could create a storm; I did it once before with Cato.

"Oh," Micah interrupted. "I forgot to tell you something."

I looked at him, just in time to see him hopping over the table at me. Without thinking I retreated under the table, making my way to the other side. Micah's acrobatics were practiced and smooth. He landed in my previous spot as I was still struggling to pull myself out from under the table. When I stood up and turned to face him he was waiting patiently. I began to send waves of energy toward the sky. Just as they reached the glass ceiling, it was blocked and bounced back, nearly knocking me on my ass.

"That is what I forgot to tell you," Micah said. "There is a block. You are limited to using only what is in this room."

My mouth went dry. "Who is doing the blocking?" I already knew who, and I knew where. I followed the flows of the block and turned around to find Shawn standing outside the greenhouse, smiling at me. My eyes blurred as tunnel vision set in. It was a very long, dark tunnel that framed Shawn perfectly at the end, standing there waving at me. I didn't know if it was fear, anger, or the effects of the over-oxygenated air. Probably all three.

I didn't hear Micah move up behind me, but he was suddenly just there, whispering in my ear. "I'm sorry."

Now I understood what he was trying to say last night.

This was the ultimate betrayal. "Apology not accepted," I whispered back.

Micah laid his hands on my shoulders.

I rejected him again, louder this time. "No!" I tried to shake him off but he just held on tighter. I turned and slapped him in the face.

"I have to continue the exercise." He let go of me and took hold of my shirt at the bottom, trying to yank it up.

I didn't let him. "You are going to do this here? Now? In front of him!" I gestured to Shawn, wondering if he could hear us. He could certainly see us. "Why did you even let him back?"

"We needed to test you, to train you in some of the most difficult situations I could imagine for you." He took a step closer. "Stop me Kaitlyn. Believe me; I want you to stop me. Reverse the process. Fix the air and the whole thing stops."

I wanted to pull my hair out, "I didn't read the fucking book on air cycles yet." Briefly, I considered not putting up a fight, and wondered if he would actually go through with it. One glance at his eyes told me he might. Micah really was capable of anything. I began to feel nauseous. He bent down, fumbling with the drawstring on my shorts.

This couldn't be happening. This was the very man I couldn't eat breakfast without – how could he have gone from that to this? I considered pleading, but nixed it quick. I wasn't going to be reduced to that quite yet.

I looked over his head at Shawn again, who had a sick smile on his face. That spurred me into action. Holding Micah's face steady, which was at my waist level, I reared my knee up hitting him directly in the chin. I stumbled backward, limping. He had a hard chin. He stumbled more. Not giving him a chance to recover, I picked up a flower pot and cracked it square over his head. It didn't knock him out but he was definitely having trouble. I grabbed for another pot and started to aim it at one of the glass panes, but was stopped short when Micah grabbed both of my ankles and yanked my feet right out from under me. That knocked the wind out of me. He threw himself on top of me, pinning me down with his body weight. Tears started to surface and I fought to hold them back. I was becoming disoriented. Perhaps Micah was having the same issues.

There was a stabbing sensation in my ribs with every breath and something very sharp was poking me in the hip. The pain helped keep me grounded; it told me this wasn't a dream – it was very real and I had to keep fighting back. I felt around for whatever was stabbing me in the hip while Micah was busy trying to take off both our shoes with his feet. Finally I felt the rock Micah had given to me in the gardens. His body pressed it into me. I squeezed it out from between us, remembering what he said about attracting animals.

I couldn't send out for energy or help but maybe the rock could. If I could magnify its strength, it might be strong enough to call something that was just desperate enough to break through the glass to get to it. The only problem was, I had absolutely no energy left between my fight with Micah, the earthquake, and the cold spell. I couldn't get any help from outside of the room with Shawn's wall.

Micah was working on undressing himself – there wasn't much time left. I looked around me for any help at all but it was hard to think straight. I felt a small tingle on one of my ankles and twisted my head out from under Micah to see what it was. Dirt from the pot I cracked over Micah's head had made its way underneath my bandages and was working to heal the whip wound inflicted by Alex earlier.

The connection dawned on me. I could use energy from the potted soil to help me. I called on it quickly, directing everything toward the little pebble I held in my hand. It was the most difficult mental activity I remembered doing up to this point, and it was sloppy, very sloppy. Micah must have felt something happen because he stopped what he was doing to look around. "What are you doing?"

I ignored him, keeping the energy flowing into the rock. It didn't take long before we heard tiny clicks on the greenhouse roof. We both looked up and I smiled. Birds had started to gather. A few of them were chipping at the glass with their beaks. "How are you doing that?" Micah popped up on his knees to look out at Shawn questioningly. From outside Shawn shrugged his shoulders, then furrowed his brow in concentration. I felt his wall get stronger, but it didn't matter. My magic stayed inside the greenhouse; it was the rock's magic that he needed to block. I kept pouring energy into the rock until I thought it would burst. More and more birds began landing on the greenhouse. The sun was soon blotted out by their little bodies and the noise of their beaks hitting the glass grew louder and louder. _Yeah, buddy. I'm about to Hitchcock your ass._

Micah focused his attention back on me but didn't continue with his original intentions. He knew it was over. I'd won. As soon as we heard the first crack, followed by shattering glass, I bucked him off of me. In the process I slipped the rock, which was still summoning the birds, into his hands. While I was backing away he had only moments to realize what he was holding before he was overtaken by birds. I grabbed my shoes and exited the greenhouse before the birds filled it entirely. I saw Shawn out of the corner of my eye breaking glass panes from the outside, trying to get to Micah.

_Good_ , I thought. _I hope they both get their eyes pecked out._

I walked into the house, stumbling out of the way of several guards, medical personnel, and even Cato, all running toward the commotion at the greenhouse. No one seemed to notice me, except Cato. Making his way to the greenhouse like everyone else, he paused to give me a 'what did you do now' look. I didn't respond. Instead, I dragged myself into Micah's bedroom. Flinging the door open, I stepped inside and flopped on the bed, asleep, or more appropriately, unconscious, before my head hit the pillow.
Chapter 21

For What It's Worth

Footsteps echoed down the hall, quickening as they went past my door. I opened my eyes, half asleep, then closed them again. I didn't want to face anybody. After hearing nothing but silence for more than an hour, I climbed out of bed, emerging from Micah's room.

The house was eerily void of people, for which I was grateful. After grabbing a glass of water, I went outside to walk in the gardens. Slowly making my way out and back again, I didn't encounter a single soul. I began to wonder if I was dreaming. Coming toward the building on the other side, I noticed an old, rusted farm truck, complete with high, rounded fenders, parked nearby. I frowned at it. I had not seen a vehicle since arriving at the Chakra.

Looking closer, I saw keys in the ignition. Still, it was doubtful the ancient thing would start. It had the basics; four fully inflated tires and a steering wheel, but it had to have been towed here. I glanced around again; no one was in sight. I turned back to the truck. I thought about leaving. After yesterday, who wouldn't? Then I thought about Adil – and his crying mother at the funeral, and all of the disasters I had caused. If I left, would it happen all over again? Had I learned enough control over my powers? Had I learned any control at all? The kitchen dishware would tell me no.

I barely heard the soft footsteps approach from behind, and turned around to see Alex advancing with that goofy smile he always wore.

He came up beside me, and removed the keys from the truck through the window. _Damn_. "Micah thought you could use a friend."

The mere mention of his name put me in a foul mood.

Alex ignored my scowl. "Come on, let's talk."

"I don't feel like talking."

"Fine. I'll do the talking, you do the listening." He motioned with his head, moving away from the truck.

I huffed, seriously considering letting him walk away without me, but followed him anyway.

We walked to the patio and sat side by side on a gliding chair. My feet didn't quite reach the ground so I tucked them up under me. Alex maintained a consistent, gentle rock, pushing off the ground with his toes every few swings.

After a few minutes of silence, Alex asked, "How are you doing?"

I just raised my eyebrows at him. _Did he really want me to answer that?_

Alex cleared his throat and started over, "Okay. I'll just say it. We are leaving today for the assignment."

"Today? Why?"

"Well...Cato moved it up."

"Because..." I prodded.

"Cato feels it's better for the upkeep of the Chakra and the safety of everyone in it if you..." he drifted off.

"If I...what?"

"If you...left," Alex mumbled.

I heard it all the same. I sat back in the chair, processing the news. A lump began forming in my throat.

Alex looked at me and began rambling, "You have to understand we must be very discreet about this place, and everything that goes on here. It is difficult to find staff that can be trusted. If anyone leaves, they're hard to replace." He paused to look at me again.

I stayed silent, fighting back tears.

"After yesterday, most of the staff has already gone," he said softly. "They're refusing to return until you leave."

It had been difficult to accept life here, and as soon as I'd become adjusted, I was no longer welcome. Even worse, everyone seemed to be against me. It wasn't turning out to be the team atmosphere Cato and Micah had described. Once I entered the picture, apparently everything just fell apart.

Alex put his arm around my shoulders, "Oh, Katie. It's not like you are getting kicked out for good, or even getting kicked out of your home. Your home is where your family is, and we are your family. We'll be with you."

"That is not really comforting. I am not exactly on good terms with Shawn and Micah right now."

"Nonetheless, we are family. One big, dysfunctional family." That made me smile. I leaned into Alex; he always had a way of making me feel better. We sat together a little longer, swinging in silence until he just had to break it.

"You know, Micah only did what he did to help you."

I pulled back sharply. "Don't tell me you are taking his side. Do you even know what happened?"

"Yes, there were, um, video cameras."

I looked at Alex in horror. "How many others were watching?"

"I sent everyone out of the room, just Cato and I stayed."

I jumped out of the seat and turned on him. "Well, I hope you enjoyed the show!"

"It's not like that. We were only monitoring to make sure it didn't get too out of hand."

"So at what point, exactly, would you have considered it out of hand?"

He shifted awkwardly in his seat. "I actually meant we were making sure _you_ didn't get too out of hand."

"What!?" I gave up trying to think rationally, turned on my heel and walked purposefully toward the truck. I was out of there.

"Wait!" Alex ran to catch up with me. "It wouldn't have gone _that_ far. I mean – right?"

I turned around, with Alex almost on my heel, and pushed him in the chest, hard.

He fell and cried out, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out the keys, having landed on them.

"Serves you right," I muttered.

"Katie—"

"Don't Katie me." I snapped.

Alex took a deep breath. "Kaitlyn. Since you have arrived, you have thrown us all for a loop, especially Micah. You are stronger, more stubborn, and completely different from any Gaia that has come through here. We don't know how to deal with it. It is like we are learning how this works all over again."

I let him continue.

"I'll admit that some of Micah's techniques went overboard; but so did your solutions. He was just matching your intensity level."

"That is a weak excuse," I replied, forcefully calming myself down. "Can't you understand that? I really, really need someone to understand."

"I know," Alex said. "But for what it is worth, Micah is truly sorry."

I didn't answer.

He glanced over at the truck. "Oh, I owe you something." He pulled a bluish-purple paper bill from his pocket and handed it to me. "Twenty Euros."

I raised an eyebrow, "Payment for the show?"

"For our bet on the race – you made it to the lake first. I think with the exchange rate that actually translates into _more_ than the twenty dollars I promised."

I stuffed the bill in my pocket. "I'll be sure not to spend this all in one place, you know, with all the strip malls out here and all."

"Quit with the sarcasm." Alex shook his head. "We're flying to Spain today – that could come in handy."

"Spain?" Perhaps the day was going to improve.

"Costa del Sol," he said. "You can buy yourself a few sangria's with that. We are leaving in a couple hours, so you might want to pack."

I helped him up off the ground and began walking back. I could at least let Alex escort me off this God forsaken place, and consider my next move later.

Alex stopped me before we parted ways. "Oh, Katie, pack as much as you can. We'll be gone for an indefinite amount of time."

I rolled my eyes silently cursing him for the reminder.

A large suitcase sat on the bed in the middle of Micah's room. Looking around, I noticed most of Micah's things were already gone. He was taking care to avoid me, which was probably for the best. Packing went quickly – I had only a few stain-free outfits that fit me well, plus some necessities from the bathroom.

I was zipping up the suitcase when Alex came in to help me carry it out. "It's just us, travel buddy. Micah and Shawn already left and Cato will join us later in Spain. He has to supervise some repairs."

We walked out of the room and I didn't turn around for one last look. I had no idea if I would ever return, and I wasn't sure if I cared.

After several attempts at starting the truck, the old engine miraculously coughed to life and Alex and I were driving away. I glanced back into the bed of the truck to check the security of our luggage, and realized there wasn't even a back window, or side windows for that matter. At least there was a windshield.

I eyed Alex and he answered my thoughts, "It's the _reuse_ part in reduce, reuse, recycle."

"I guess I am just the 'use' part." I mumbled under my breath. Alex either didn't hear or chose to ignore it.

A ten minute drive led us to a large gate Alex opened with a remote control. The Chakra was much bigger than I had even imagined. I silently thanked myself for giving up my escape attempts. I leaned forward in my seat as we waited for the gate to open.

I could see Alex out of the corner of my eye trying to hide his smile. "Do you want me to just tell you where we are?"

"No, no, no – don't. I want to guess." I might as well entertain myself somehow. Outside of the compound, the flora was very similar to what was inside. The forest grew thicker as we went. There weren't many signs of settlement once the gates of the Chakra disappeared from view. Occasionally I spotted an animal resembling a small buffalo, and perhaps farmers' fields. I couldn't identify what was being grown. Tea, maybe? Still, there were no signs and no people. I shook my head. "I give up. Middle Earth?"

Alex laughed. "We're on the island of Simeulue."

"No bells are ringing here," I said. "How come I can't hear the ocean if we are on an island?"

"The trees block most of the sounds; the Chakra is in the center of the island. You will start to hear it in a moment." Alex paused and sure enough, after a few more minutes of driving, the sound of waves hitting a hard rocky shore could be heard. Alex navigated the truck through a shallow but rapid stream that intersected with the dirt road. A loud clunk shook the back as our luggage slid around. I slumped down in my seat lest I get a suitcase in the back of the head.

"Simeulue is part of the province of Sumatra." Alex ignored the suitcases. "We're right off the northwestern coast of Indonesia."

"Sumatra! Why didn't you just say so?" That was a name I recognized, at least. I paused. "Isn't it kind of...dangerous here?"

"On the island we stay off the radar so we aren't affected by the civil wars. The Chakra used to be a coconut plantation, owned by a friend of Cato's. He was sympathetic to our cause and left Cato everything when he passed away. We've had other locations, but his place has been the least amount of hassle by far, considering what we do."

No wonder Cato was so protective of the Chakra. Alex continued talking but I tuned him out. I was still trying to sort through recent events, and despite my best efforts, I was beginning to understand why certain things happened the way they did. Besides, maybe Micah wouldn't have gone through with it. There is no way to really know, now.

"What?" My attention snapped back to Alex.

He glanced at me, "I said we'll have to take a boat to Sibloga, Sumatra, and we'll fly out from there."

I groaned and slid further down in my seat. "I hate boats." I had yet to take a boat ride that I didn't get sick on. I even needed a quick exit from the 'It's a Small World' ride at Disney World.

"You did okay on the ride here."

"Probably because I was knocked out cold with whatever drugs you guys pumped into my system."

"Oh yeah, I remember now. Well, if you want, that can be arranged."

"Oh, would you please? I'd like to end up kidnapped and shackled to a strange bed again."

He rolled his eyes, and I huffed, crossing my arms. "I'll take my chances with the sea sickness."

After a few more bumps down the road, the trees cleared out and we could see the shore. A port came into view; its only occupant was a small charter boat. I already began to feel the familiar flip-flopping in my stomach as Alex parked.

Insisting a full stomach helps ease the more unpleasant symptoms of seasickness, Alex left me to deal with the luggage, and went off in search of food. I managed to lug everything on board myself. The driver was gracious enough to pull the small charter boat closer to the pier so I didn't accidently toss our luggage straight into the ocean. That, and he managed not to laugh at me. Quite the gentleman. I chose a bench seat as close to the middle of the boat as I could get, figuring it would be the most stable spot. Impatiently, I squinted into the sun's glare on the water and searched the shore for Alex. I spotted him making his way to a small fruit stand. He paused to look over the trash piles nearby, a deep frown forming on his face. Then he surveyed the large field behind the stand containing rows of different kinds of trees and vines. Two minutes from the vine to the store once plucked; can't get any fresher than that. He immediately engaged the man behind the counter in an intense conversation. Using wide sweeping movements, Alex spoke loudly, as if he were giving the man some sort of instructions. The man sometimes looked confused, and sometimes nodded his head in sudden understanding. After ten minutes or so I began to worry if Alex would miss the boat, and I'd be stuck on the dreaded ride by myself. Then I realized I was the only one on the boat, and we were most likely the driver's only customers of the day. Alex made his way to the pier, and the boat's engines roared to life.

He emptied the contents of his jacket pockets into my lap. I couldn't identify much of what I bit into, but it was cool and invigorating.

"Make a new friend?" I spoke through a full mouth.

"What?" Alex asked, looking back to the shore. "Oh, him? Under new management. He's not taking advantage of something we built for the place last year. I had to explain it to him."

"And what was it, exactly, you built?" I slurped up an especially sloppy bite of fruit, attempting to keep it from spilling over onto my chin.

Alex straightened his back. "A compost bin."

The answer caught me off guard. I laughed, accidently inhaling some of the fruit as a result. Alex hit me hard on the back as I half-choked, half-laughed.

"It's not _that_ funny, Kaitlyn. In the U.S., yard and kitchen waste account for around 30% of landfill refuse. Can you imagine if everyone had their own compost piles?"

Still giggling, I responded, "I can imagine what the world might smell like."

Alex didn't find it humorous at all. "The man could benefit greatly, creating compost not only to decrease his trash but also as a fertilizer for his fields." He glanced at me sideways. "It doesn't have to smell bad if you do it right."

I tried my best to put on a straight face while Alex, caught up in the excitement of his own values, explained the process to me. Besides, the conversation was keeping my mind off the rocky boat ride.

After a very long-winded, somewhat Cato-like explanation, Alex grinned sheepishly, "I don't think he understood my English too well but he'll figure it out."

I smiled, "So easy – who would have thought?"

"That's right." He smiled at me, happy I was buying into his environmentally friendly attitude. "Just to give you fair warning, you'll see us do this thing quite a bit when we are away from the Chakra. In fact, I think Micah has something planned on the way to Spain."

"Oh, can't wait." My face darkened just at the mention of Micah, but I tried to discard the thought. "We're almost there. Want to take the time convince the boat driver to replace his gas-guzzling engines with environmentally-friendly sails before we dock?"

"I'd love to," Alex said, ignoring my sarcastic tone. "But he doesn't speak any English, I've tried talking to him before."

"Of course you have."

"Come on; let's get our suitcases." Alex looked at them for a moment before looking back at me. "You did a fine job of organizing them." Alex criticized me as he went to collect the bags, spread all over the deck of the boat.

"Hey!" I defended myself, "They were heavy. What did you pack anyway?"

"Just enough to be prepared, Katie. Always be prepared."

"Ok, Boy Scout. Next time I'll get the fruit and you handle the bags."
Chapter 22

Bodyguards

The boat pulled into the pier on Sumatra. I had made it the whole way without incident. A taxi was waiting for us. Alex handed the driver a piece of paper. The driver nodded and had us at a small airport before I knew it. I looked around to see if I could spot Micah or Shawn. It would have been easy in the sea of darker skinned people. Alex stuck close to me, his arm around my shoulders most of the time. It was odd behavior for him.

"What is wrong?" I asked, shrugging off the burdensome weight of his arm.

He looked around wildly for a second, scrutinizing everyone close to us in fear and suspicion. Barely moving his lips, he whispered, "Act natural. We are supposed to be siblings."

I crossed my arms and teased, "You are way too goofy looking to be my brother."

Since no one apparently cared, or even noticed us, he let out the breath he had been holding far too long. "I'm not too good at this incognito thing. Freaks me out." He pulled out a passport from his backpack. "Here."

I opened it. "Laura Henson?"

"Couldn't have you traveling under your real name, in case someone is still looking for you."

I smirked at the thought. _If only my fica had access to the internet, and fingers._

Alex pulled out his passport and flipped it open. "Alexander Henson. But you can call me Alex."

I stuck out my hand, "Nice to meet you, bro."

"You too, sis." He shook my hand.

We continued walking toward the boarding gate. "We are flying from here to Jakarta, Jakarta to France, and France to Spain."

"How long is our layover in France?" I asked.

Alex pulled out a folder full of paperwork and flipped through it. "Four hours, why?"

"Because I might have a chance to practice my high school French."

Several hours later, after the wheels touched down in France, I was making a beeline for the women's restroom at the Charles de Gaulle Airport. My stomach was finally calling it quits and I had to hurry if I was going to spare myself the embarrassing effects of motion sickness. I pushed people out of the way, ignoring what I was sure were curse words in several different languages. Alex tried to keep up but, hindered by our carry-on luggage, was soon lost in the crowd.

By the time I was finished, the restroom had emptied of women; likely not wanting to be anywhere near what was happening in my stall. I rinsed my mouth and looked at myself in the mirror with a critical eye. My hair was a frizzy mess and my face was pale. I fixed myself as best I could and walked out of the restroom. Alex was nowhere in sight.

_Oh great_. _Now what_?

I had no idea when the next flight was, I only knew we were going to Spain. I walked to a departure listing and found ten different flights leaving for Spain that day, all at different times and spread out over several airlines. The first one was boarding now. All I had on me was my passport and 20 euros. Could I just walk up to a random kiosk, show them my passport and ask what flight I was supposed to be on? I could see myself waving the Euros at the attendant _, there is a nice tip in it for you._ That might draw some unwanted attention. I silently cursed Alex for not preparing me better for this situation.

" _Excusez-moi_." A man in uniform tapped me on the shoulder. Too late for the unwanted attention.

" _Oui_?" Goody, a wonderful time to practice my French.

He tried hard to prevent a look of disdain from crossing his face, but I caught it. He took a deep breath. "Can I help you?"

Dismayed at how he pegged me as an English speaker after just one word I gave up on the French. "Um, no, no. I am okay. Just waiting for my Alex, I mean my brother." _Screwed that one up_. Why did he single me out, anyway? There were plenty of people just standing around.

He looked me over. "I must ask you accompany me this way, Mademoiselle."

"What, why?"

He grabbed me, keeping a firm grip on my upper arm, and began pulling me along.

I tugged back. "I didn't do anything!" My voice got louder and people around us stopped what they were doing to look. The Frenchman let go briefly and took a more aggressive stance. One of his hands automatically went to his belt over what looked like a stun gun. The other hand pulled out a walkie-talkie and he began speaking into it urgently.

With how quickly things escalated, I was stunned into stupidity. I should have spent more time learning to think on my feet, instead of using whips. I began to look around wildly for an out. Perhaps I could point out a potential terrorist threat; those things weren't taken lightly.

As it was, we just happened to be surrounded by blue-eyed, blond-haired tourists, a herd of school-aged children, and a group of uniformed British soldiers. I openly gawked at a woman who had to be too pregnant to fly, clutching her toddler close, and silently damned her for contributing to my bad luck. Just as I was considering turning tail and running, a familiar face appeared. The Frenchman was forced to take his hand away from the stun gun in order to intercept Micah's enthusiastic shake. Micah immediately started a conversation, speaking to him in a polite but commanding tone. To my untrained ear, it sounded like perfect French. I felt someone come up behind me and take my arm.

Before I could glance over my shoulder Shawn whispered in my ear, "Take a few small steps back with me."

Quickly, I looked at the security guard. He could be my out. If I could just go with him, I could rid myself of these deranged people and figure out my powers on my own. Maybe live somewhere secluded until I had them under control.

But Micah was a smooth talker. He actually had the Frenchman smiling. No doubt his hypnotic eyes were working their magic as well. Good to know I wasn't the only one susceptible. My opportunity was quickly fading. If I tried anything, I would be the crazy babbling woman.

Shawn was still pulling insistently on my arm, and I went with him. We continued our slow walk backward until immersed amongst the onlookers; becoming one of them. Eventually the crowd dispersed as they realized nothing even remotely interesting was coming. As Micah finished up his conversation, the Frenchman sent one more glance my way. Upon seeing me – he looked almost shocked at remembering why he was there in the first place. He had already forgotten. He returned his walkie-talkie to its holster, shook Micah's hand, and pat him on the shoulder. I was surprised they didn't exchange phone numbers; maybe set up a future golf date.

Finally, the Frenchman turned and walked away. Micah sauntered toward us, after pausing briefly to help the pregnant woman retrieve the toy her toddler had thrown. I rolled my eyes.

He took my other arm and escorted me to a nearby café. We sat at a small round table and Micah ordered sandwiches for the three of us. As I sat next to the two people I despised most in the world at that moment, I couldn't help but feel slightly content. The pair put out an aura of confidence and strength, and if I wanted to get the crux of it – this was the devil I knew. With my own personal bodyguards around nothing could hurt me; except of course for the bodyguards themselves.
Chapter 23

Water Wars

Lunch in the airport was uneventful, and not a word was spoken amongst the three of us until Alex arrived; sweaty and panic-stricken. "Oh, you found her – thank God."

"God had nothing to do with it." Micah pulled out a small device from his pocket and threw it at Alex. Then he bent down, took off my shoe, and showed him a miniscule chip tucked into the sole.

"You didn't trust me?" Alex asked Micah with a forlorn face.

Micah apparently didn't trust either one of us.

"Oh, please," Shawn interjected, speaking with his mouth full of bread, "If the Chakra couldn't handle her, what makes you think you can?"

Alex and I simultaneously turned to glare at Shawn, then broke out in protests, struggling to be heard over each other. Shawn interjected his defense, raising his own voice.

Finally, a two fingered, shrill whistle cut us all off. Satisfied he had our full attention, Micah cleared his throat and said, "Alex, won't you sit down?"

Alex did as he was told.

"We can't attract any more attention than we already have." Micah continued, "Let's just finish eating. Our meeting is in an hour and our flight takes off soon after that. We can resolve any issues we have with each other once we are in private."

Alex sat back in his chair with his arms crossed and sulked. Shawn shrugged his shoulders and went back to stuffing his mouth. Micah and I caught each other's eyes. It was the first time we really looked at each other in what seemed like ages, and I immediately felt my heart soften. I purposefully recalled what happened in the greenhouse; the small bird scratches on his face helped me there. I needed to look out for myself more than ever now that I knew what he was capable of.

After shaking the last thoughts from my head, what Micah just said clicked. "Meeting? What meeting?"

Without looking at me he explained, "Cato has a contact in the environmental protection authority of France. We are supposed to meet with him and the Charles de Gaulle Airport Board of Directors to discuss joining the campaign for airport water conservation."

I looked at Alex and Shawn, and realized for the first time they were all wearing casual business attire. I looked down at my own wrinkled shorts and t-shirt and immediately panicked.

Micah lowered his voice and said, "The plan was for you to wait here for us, but I'm not sure that is the best idea anymore."

"She can't go in looking like that," Shawn said.

I glared at him again. It may have been what I was thinking, but that didn't make it all right for _him_ to criticize my appearance.

Micah waved him away. "Alex, take her to buy another outfit. Meet us back here in 45 minutes."

"Our trip budget is tight. I don't think – "

Micah interrupted Alex, "Make it work." Alex sighed, hung his head in defeat, then held his arm out for me.

I replaced the shoe, complete with microchip, and left the table. It was better than sitting with those two bastards.

I walked through the airport with a slight limp, overcompensating for the foreign object lodged in my shoe. Alex brooded by my side, but I was grateful for the temporary reprieve from Micah. It felt less crowded trying to negotiate the airport amongst the swarms of people and suitcases than it did sitting at a table with him. After visiting the overpriced airport shops, I had a new dark blue skirt suit with matching shoes and even a necklace and earrings that complimented the outfit. I dug my makeup and hair brush out of our carry-on luggage and put it to good use. After gaining approval from Alex, we quickly headed back to the café only to find Micah and Shawn had dumped out the contents of Alex's carry-on bag. They were sorting through a mass of brochures, reports, and other paperwork on the table. They looked panicked.

Alex joined them, his eyebrows creasing similarly. "What is going on? Are you ready? We are supposed to be there in five minutes!"

"None of the packets are put together!" Shawn said.

"You were supposed to do that at the Chakra." Micah gave Alex a dark look then looked up at me, explaining their incompetence. "Business school is not a requirement to join The Seven."

Feeling partly responsible for throwing around Alex's luggage to get it on the boat, I stepped in front of Alex in defense. "He was a little busy, apologizing for your actions."

Micah tightened up, but didn't reply.

I took a deep breath, trying to quell my anger, for now. "Ok – how many packets do we need?"

"About twenty," Micah answered.

I took charge, putting my organization skills to good use. "Shawn, pull that table over here. Alex – start separating everything into piles." I turned to Micah, "What are you putting everything in – do you have folders?"

"Yes, in here I think."

"Count out twenty-five of them." Everyone followed my orders without question. Five minutes later, due to a very efficient assembly line, we had 25 packets assembled and were on our way to the meeting.

We met a receptionist by an 'employees only' entrance and she led us through several offices into a conference room. There was a sea of older men stuffed inside blue and black suites, all swiveling their chairs to look as we entered. I felt a few too many gazes linger on me and suppressed the urge to check for food in my teeth. Shawn and Micah took positions at the head of the table while I helped Alex pass out our freshly-assembled packets.

"Gentlemen, I want to thank you for taking the time to meet us here today," Shawn started. "Also, our thanks to Mr. Vasser for arranging the meeting. Cato sends his regards and regrets he couldn't make it; especially considering the high end hotel suites you have arranged for us in Spain." A few of the men chuckled. One of the men toward the front nodded his head at Shawn's acknowledgement. "Unfortunately, we don't have much time until our flight so I will get right to the point."

Micah began translating Shawn's brief into French. I took a seat in the back of the room, happy to observe. Alex was opening a suitcase and passing out reusable water bottles. He tossed me one of my own and winked at me. I inspected the water bottle as I listened to Shawn and Micah. Besides the 'made from 100% recycled material' notice on the bottom, it only contained one symbol – the same one I saw on the doors to Cato's office, the spiral of life.

Shawn started out by listing all of the other airports they had already visited, highlighting the Canberra Airport in Australia, known for their water conservation efforts. He went into detail about their initiatives. He spoke for a half hour, pausing every so often to let Micah catch up with his translations. He finally finished and opened it up for questions.

A large man sitting halfway down the long conference table cleared his throat before speaking in a thick French accent, "More like a comment, really. Much of what you've, ah, suggested, won't be worth the costs. Beyond that, I don't see a reason to take such drastic measures." A series of mumbling around the table revealed that half the room agreed with him and half the room disagreed. He addressed his opponents, "I'm just saying what we're all thinking. During our tenure of running this airport, it will only increase costs significantly and we won't see the benefits nor be rewarded or recognized once they finally come about. We'll be long gone by then."

Shawn attempted to address his concern but his voice was overpowered by the Board of Directors arguing amongst themselves. Their agitation caused them to revert to their native language and Shawn could no longer keep up. Micah couldn't even translate as they talked over one another.

Unable to sit still any longer, I stood up and made my way to the end of the table. Perhaps the mere reminder that a woman was present would keep the men cordial. It partly worked; the men sitting closer to me calmed down but the others didn't even notice. Shawn and Micah certainly noticed; though they were too far away to do anything to stop me. Never having learned the talent of a shrill, two fingered-whistle, I used the only other talent that came to mind. I summoned a small amount of energy and expended it in the form of wind. I had practiced it only a few times, so it wasn't steady, but it had the right effect. Papers in the room flew up as the wind raced away from me, then settled as I willed the air to change direction. It pulled everyone's attention toward me along with it.

I released the energy and quickly said, "If I may..."

The beginnings of a wall, a Shawn-made block, clearly exuded ' _you may not'_ , but Micah placed a hand on his shoulder, and the wall crumbled away. I turned to the Frenchman and began, "Perhaps the end of humanity won't occur for another five or six billion years; and that your children's children will even be long gone by then. In fact your entire family line may no longer exist." I recalled some of the facts from the reading material, "But consider this; climate change will begin to affect urban water supply within the next 80 years. That means the next generation will face a water crisis, which may warrant some action now, don't you agree?" Without waiting for his response I went on, "Up until now, most conflict in this world has occurred due to land or border disputes and more recently - oil rights. Can you imagine what kind of conflicts might occur over freshwater resources? How bloody will those battles be? And who will be blamed for the problem?"

The question hung in the air, echoing off the walls like an empty canyon until one word sliced through the silence, "Us." It was spoken by a nameless face at the table, but the one word reflected everything I was trying to say.

I made my way through the crowded floor to stand behind the original pessimist. I leaned over to lay my chin on his shoulder, admittedly brazen on my part for sure, but it had the effect I wanted. I whispered the word again in his ear, "Us."

His eyes and facial expression told me he understood. I took my place in my seat, the room remaining respectfully quiet until I did so. Shawn broke the silence, "Thank you, Kaitlyn, for making that point. On that note, let's open up the floor for questions."

By the time we made our exit, a commitment was made to arrange another meeting between the Canberra and Charles de Gaulle Board of Directors.

We headed to our gate and Micah slowed his pace to walk by my side, "What did you think?"

As much as I didn't want to compliment him, I had to admit it. "Impressive."

He smiled then returned the compliment. "As were you – thanks for all your help."

"So is that it? Will there be any follow up?"

"No – we've said our piece. We've brought to light the right thing to do, and provided much of the information necessary to proceed. It is up to them now. If they need anything else, they'll let us know."

I nodded, then busied myself by looking at artwork on the wall as we passed it. I was determined to maintain a cold attitude toward him.
Chapter 24

Dirty Boots

After another flight and a short taxi cab ride, we arrived at a beautiful beach front hotel. Checking in, we received keys to two different suites, side by side, with two rooms in each. Our bags already upstairs, the four of us stood awkwardly in the hallway, staring at each other. Room arrangements obviously hadn't been discussed.

"Well if no one wants the bitch, I'll take her," Shawn said crassly, trying to put his arm around me.

"Asshole! You're the only one that is out of the question." I ducked his arm and moved behind Alex.

"I figured as much. Well you three figure it out, I need a shower." Shawn grabbed one of the keys and went into the room, slamming the door behind him.

Alex and Micah both looked at me for a decision.

I froze.

"It might be safer if Kaitlyn stays with me," Micah said, looking at me. "There are two rooms in each suite, anyway."

I didn't say anything, trying to sort through the possible consequences in my head.

Alex took a step closer to me, lowering his voice. "He has a point. If anything gets out of control, he is the most likely to stop it." He looked at my face and back tracked. "But it is totally up to you, whatever you want."

Micah nodded. "Yeah. Whatever you want."

I sighed and relented. "Fine." I entered the suite quickly leaving Micah and Alex staring after me. It was a large suite with a full kitchen and even bigger common area. With leather couches and a huge flat screen television, Mr. Vasser spared no expense. Two separate bedrooms with king sized beds sat across from each other on either side of the common area. I chose a room and locked the door behind me. Spotting the attached bathroom, I took full advantage of it for the next hour. In the lavish, Spanish-tiled shower, with water pouring over me, it was almost possible to forget the past few days. Almost, but not quite. I released a breath.

Just a few hours away from the Chakra, and I already felt like I was dragging. I suddenly craved the caffeine that kept me going in my normal, day to day life. I went into the bedroom and dressed in a light, cotton dress I hadn't worn yet. It fit well, showing off curves that weren't easily seen in the shorts and t-shirts I had been wearing the past few weeks. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked – good. _He almost raped me. Fuck the dress._ I changed into baggy pants and an oversized sweatshirt and looked in the mirror again. _Nope – not gonna bring myself down a peg because of what he did._ Back into the dress I went.

"Kaitlyn?" Micah spoke through the door, giving a light knock.

I tensed. "Yes?"

"Don't unpack okay? In case we need to leave in a hurry."

"Okay." I was short in my response hoping to get rid of him quickly.

After a few moments of silence he spoke again. "The guys are here. When you're ready we need to go over the plan for tomorrow."

"Okay."

A few more moments of silence. "Okay."

His footsteps retreated.

I wasn't about to hurry for any of them, so I finished getting dressed and took the opportunity to delay by drying my hair and applying some light makeup. Satisfied with my appearance, I delayed the inevitable even longer by opening up the curtains to my room. I was taken aback by the view. The sun was setting behind us, bathing the sky and beach below in soft pinks and oranges. The bright blue water, accented by frothy white, licked the shore in small waves. Except for the tourists that dotted the coastline, it was a postcard-perfect picture. I frowned at the people below, annoyed by their tacky umbrellas and towels and all the trash they brought in, much of which would probably be left behind.

Shawn finally yelled from the other room. "Take your time, it's not like anyone is waiting on you."

_Speaking of annoying people_. I sighed and turned toward the door. _Time to go to work_.

The three men turned at the sound of the door, each of their reactions different but predictable.

Alex smiled his goofy smile and complimented me, "You look nice, Katie."

Micah swallowed, hard. I thought I felt the beginnings of a mental communication coming from him but it was suddenly jerked back, as if he changed his mind.

Shawn sat at one end of the table and I walked toward him and the food. He was staring at me.

"Hey, Princess – I saved a seat for you right here," Shawn said, patting his lap.

I walked over to him, as seductively as I could manage. "Oh Shawn, don't you know?" I took the untouched piece of cheesecake out of his hands. "You can't have your cake and eat it, too."

The smile disappeared from his face.

Alex snorted.

Micah interrupted, "Just sit down, will you? We have a lot to go over."

I took a seat on a large oversized armchair. Micah made it a point to sit in between Shawn and me.

Micah began, "Cato didn't give me all the details before he left, said he would fill me in tonight. Alex – did you get us a boat?"

I groaned out loud; everyone ignored it.

"Yes – a trawler. 300 footer. We have it for two weeks."

Oh, good. On a boat for two whole weeks.

A knock on the door of Alex and Shawn's neighboring suite made us all tense. Micah looked at his watch, "Cato's flight hasn't landed yet."

Shawn stood and cautiously stuck his head outside the door. He threw open the door and held his arms out wide. "Susan!"

Micah and Alex immediately rushed the door, all piling into the hallway. I followed hesitantly. Words of warm greeting echoed around the corridor, a woman's voice joining the men. I tried ducking under arms and jumping up to see past the three of them, but there was no hope. Alex, Shawn, and Micah were swarming her like bees on honey. A pang of jealousy washed through me. Finally, the sea of men parted and Micah came through with Susan on his arm. They looked at each other, laughing. My first thought was how handsome they looked as a couple; I instantly wanted to strangle her then and there.

"Susie, there is someone I want you to meet." Micah gestured toward me. So glad he remembered I was there. "This is Kaitlyn, the newest addition to our team."

"Ah, the infamous Kaitlyn." Susan, taller than me, looked down at me smiling.

Infamous? I narrowed my eyes at her. Bright red lipstick accented perfectly aligned, white teeth. Dark straight hair, voluptuous curves in all the right places and manicured nails completed the picture of a beautiful, exotic, man-stealing whore. _What I am I so jealous about? Let her have the rapist._

"This is Susan, my older sister," Micah quickly interjected.

My eyes widened, "Sister? Well that, um..." I was about to say 'changes everything' but I caught myself just in time. "That's great!"

I extended my hand to shake Susan's. She just laughed and pulled me into a full hug, concluding the introduction with a kiss on each cheek.

So maybe I overreacted. She smells good; I should ask about her perfume.

Micah beamed.

Alex herded us all back into the room. I made sure to take a seat on the sofa next to Susan.

She turned to me. "Micah has told me quite a bit about you. I'm glad we have this opportunity to meet. I look forward to working with you."

"Working with me?"

"She is our Nerina," Micah explained, "What she does is similar to a Gaia, but she can only interact with the water element."

"I will be helping you on this assignment." She took my hand in hers. "Together, I think we can make this work."

"I'm sorry, but, I don't think we have been fully briefed on what we're doing here." I glanced at Micah.

Before he could speak, Susan cut in, "I heard from Cato. He didn't make his flight. He still had some repairs to oversee at the Chakra. But he has passed all the details to me. I'll fill you guys in." She leaned for the food on the table. "Just as soon as I fill my belly."

I was beginning to like her already. Everyone in the room was enamored with her, even as bread crumbs fell from her mouth.

Shawn, of course, was more vocal than the rest of us in his admiration. "So Susie, want to bunk with me tonight? There is plenty of room."

"You don't ever quit, do you Shawn?" She barely glanced at him. "Thanks, but no thanks. I have a place of my own here."

"Quit hitting on my sister." Micah got up and headed toward the mini bar, jabbing Shawn in the arm on the way. "Does anyone want anything to drink?"

Several requests were made for the small bottles of hard liquor. Shawn hinted at getting Susan drunk.

"What about you, anything to drink?" It took a moment for me to realize Micah was talking to me.

"Oh, sure. Give me whatever." I soon found a small glass of 'whatever' in my hand. I looked at Susan. "So, how did you and Micah become involved with The Seven?"

A flicker of pain passed through her eyes. Maybe too quick to notice for most but I had seen Micah do the same. _Subject for another time, maybe._ "I mean, were you very young?"

Susan smiled, "Young and before you ask – inexperienced."

"Well aren't we all," I said.

Over the next half hour, she went into storytelling mode, letting me in on some of their adventures.

"We were sent to Alaska to help with the oil spill," Susan started one such story. "It was our first real task after almost five years of training. We went with Micah's first Gaia, who was four times his age and very bitter about having an 11-year-old Ardwyad."

"Wait," I interrupted. "Micah's been with The Seven since he was six?"

"Yep. I was nine." Susan looked at Shawn. "And Shawn was there even before us."

"I was too young to remember life before The Seven." He puffed out his chest. As if being the longest-standing member gave him the right to be an asshole.

"But he was made Ardwyad at age 11? Why so young?" I asked.

Micah said, "I was only in training, but the previous Ardwyad died – unexpectedly."

"Anyway," Susan continued, "Cato sent us off on this mission with a prayer; he was much more ritualistic back then than he is now. He was all, 'The Earth is my mother, rivers run forth from her great breasts, remain close. Fire is her gift, blah, blah, blah.' Anyway _,_ off went a forty-something diva of a Gaia, Cato, a gangly 11-year-old boy and his older sister who didn't take much notice of any prayers unless they were incorporated with her rock music. After five days of travel, we were standing in the middle of nowhere in the bitter cold on an icy bank looking out into a sea of oil. Cato had come down with pneumonia and was confined in an Alaskan hospital. The three of us were told to help, but given very little direction as to how. The Gaia instructed me to separate the water from the oil. It took me nearly three hours but I finally figured it out. The only problem was, if the oil were to separate from the water, it had to go somewhere, and the only somewhere around that wasn't water was the shore, which also happened to be where we were standing." She paused to take another bite of the pastry in her hands. "So this huge oil slick was rushing toward us, and I had no idea how to stop it. The Gaia freaked out and immediately took over my waves. The only problem was her strength, even with water, was double mine and the slick rushed at us faster. She had no idea how to stop it because she didn't know how I started it in the first place. She sat there in shock, making no effort whatsoever to help the situation." Susan finished off her drink. "So this is where Micah comes in, feeling our survival depended entirely on him."

I looked over at Micah, seeing his face red with anticipation of what was coming next. "The only thing that kept running through my head was the prayer Cato said before we left."

"Don't interrupt," Susan scolded. "I'm telling the story. So he took one part of the prayer very literally \- _Rivers run forth from her great breasts, remain close_. He stepped in between the Gaia and the oil slick – looked at me with the widest eyes he has ever had and then he buried his face square in her bosom."

My mouth dropped open and I looked at Micah again, who had now busied himself behind the bar making more drinks – his face conveniently hidden by an open cupboard.

"The Gaia froze in place; she didn't even look down at him she was so shocked. Micah looked back at the oil slick. It was still coming so he turned and did another face plant; only harder this time. And he started to shake his head back and forth; why – I don't know."

Micah stepped out from behind the bar to defend himself. "I thought maybe she couldn't feel me under all those layers of clothes..."

Susan cleared her throat at Micah. "Well whatever possessed him to do this, it worked. The oil slick slowed and came to a stop right at our feet. So, Micah turned back to the Gaia, still wide-eyed but also with a small smile of accomplishment on his face. He no doubt thought he did what he was supposed to and was probably looking for some praise. Instead, he received a neat slap to the face."

Susan had the whole room laughing, some of us in tears. "Needless to say, the mission was over and we were carted back to the Chakra, accused of working together to fill the sexual desires of a puberty-stricken boy."

Micah defended himself, but it went unnoticed amid merciless teasing by the other men in the room. I smiled sloppily, and realized I was getting tipsy. I looked down at the table – there were three empty glasses with my shade of lipstick smudging them. Micah was by my side handing me another.

I stood up. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

The jovial mood in the room died. Everyone went silent.

"No," Micah said, dropping his eyes all the same. "I was just, giving you drinks."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What are you up to?"

Alex jumped in. "I think maybe we've all had a little too much to drink. Susan – you want to fill us in on tomorrow's schedule?"

After a sideways glance at Micah and me, Susan started, "Okay, well—"

"Can I talk to you a moment?" My interruption was abrupt, loud, and pointed directly at Micah. "Somewhere private?"

"Jesus, princess." Shawn sent me a look. "Let's just put everything on hold so you can address your personal issues."

I spun on my heel and zeroed in on Shawn. Before I could retort, Micah laid his hand on my shoulder. "No, she's right. We need to talk things through. Especially before we attempt anything tomorrow." Although his explanation was directed at Shawn, he looked at me. "Do you want to go for a walk, on the beach?"

I walked toward a window and looked out. The evening tourists were trading the sun for disco lights at local night clubs, leaving the beach deserted. "I don't know..."

Alex came up behind me to look out the window. "Just go, I'll watch from here," he whispered.

I sighed and looked back at Micah. "Ok, let's go."

Once outside, I took the lead, ensuring we stayed along the same side of the hotel as our rooms. The temperature had dropped significantly but it was still at least 70 degrees. I watched the waves coming in and sighed, thinking what an incredible vacation this could have been had my partner and I been on better terms.

I glanced at Micah several times but he didn't seem anxious to start a conversation. I also kept an eye on our room, several stories up. Alex was there each time I checked, faithfully watching us. He waved once and I gave a slight wave back.

Micah saw, and even though he waved Alex away it must have given him the encouragement he needed. "I have something for you."

"What, like an apology?" I mumbled.

Micah pulled a small box out of his pocket. "Yes, that. And this."

He opened the box and I peered inside. A small, blue butterfly with a chain rested in the velvet interior of the box. I picked the charm up, holding it to the light from the hotel windows. It was the same deep blue and had similar markings to the butterfly that landed on Micah's pebble when he first gave it to me in the gardens. Upon closer inspection, I saw that his lucky rock, the one I temporarily turned into a bird magnet, was part of the butterfly. It was filed down to resemble the long oval-shaped body, set in a silver lining that connected the rock to its ceramic wings. Micah had marred something very symbolic to him, in order to make something special for me. I rubbed the rock with my thumb, trying to remember beyond the greenhouse to when he first gave it to me.

Micah whispered, "Here, let me."

I held my hair out of the way while Micah connected the clasp around my neck. Then he stepped back, "Beautiful."

He wasn't looking at the necklace, he was looking at me. I didn't know what to say; it didn't exactly make up for what he did.

Micah spared me by going first, "You can't imagine how much I regret what happened. For some reason, because of the type of relationship we had, I thought it was an acceptable training exercise; albeit a little extreme. But I'm not going to ask your forgiveness, I don't want it. I mean to always remember my mistake, so I will never make it again." He stepped forward and took the butterfly hanging around my neck between his two fingers. "This will remind me, both of my mistake and how much I care for you." He took another step closer so we were only inches apart, and his hand moved to the back of my shoulder where Shawn's mark still scarred my skin. "And this scar that will never heal will remind me to never take anything for granted; other people's intentions, your safety, or . . . you."

He put his other arm around me and I stepped into his embrace. We stayed that way for a long time. Yes, Micah had his faults – some very big faults. But Alex's words had weight, _he was only matching your intensity level_. Besides, could I really leave? Would there be more storms; more death?

I sat down on the beach; Micah did the same. The sand sank beneath our weight, forming itself to our bodies. The sea sent us wave after wave, each one reaching up just before our feet, pausing for the slightest second, and then bowing out gracefully in a peaceful monotony needed to distract us from an uncomfortable silence. We held each other, occasionally making small talk and drawing in each other's warmth as the night grew colder.

He took off his shirt to wrap around my shoulders, and I couldn't help but make fun of his pinkish undershirt.

"I'm not that good at doing laundry," he said. "At least I don't have a tangled mess of hair always flopping around my face."

"Hey! I work hard to keep this mess under control." I brushed some of my hair away from his cheek; the wind was insistent on placing it there.

He laughed. "And your hair looks great...most of the time."

We took off our shoes and buried our feet in the sand. His brown scruffy boots were looking especially worse for the wear, with sickly green undertones, caked in wet sand, and with laces that were barely holding everything together.

"Why such dirty boots?" I asked, leaning into him.

He put his arm around me. "Because. Saving the world is dirty work."

I laughed.

When we were ready, we helped each other up and made our way back to the hotel. I glanced up to our room, curious to see if Alex was still watching. He wasn't. In his place stood Shawn, his eyes narrowed directly at me with a look of hatred so strong I was almost thrown back by it. My grip tightened around Micah's waist and he followed my gaze but by then Shawn had stepped out of view. Micah bent down and gave me a reassuring kiss on the forehead. That would have to do for now.

Chapter 25

Olé

The next morning I was jolted from sleep by the earth falling, then rushing up to meet me. I cracked open my eyes, worried about what I would find, but my hotel room was intact and everything in it was still, including me. I tried closing my eyes again and instantly felt like I was riding a roller coaster.

_Best to keep my eyes open_.

I groaned and forced myself to sit. My stomach flipped and my mouth was dry. All of that traveling had finally caught up with me, and on top of that, I was fighting off the effects of a very unpleasant hangover. After ensuring I had control over the contents of my stomach, I coaxed myself out of bed, stumbled into the kitchenette and searched for a glass. Finding one, I filled it with water, downed it in just a few gulps, and headed back to bed. Turning slightly, I froze. The entire crew was in the living room watching me. I groaned, dismayed at what I must have looked like, but continued the arduous trek back to bed.

"Scuba diving, Kaitlyn. Wanna come?" Alex waved a snorkel mask in the air.

I groaned louder this time, mumbled something about jet lag, and shut my bedroom door behind me. I crawled under the covers, ignoring the knocks at my door and fighting back the feelings of nausea until I fell asleep. Around noon I woke up for the second time and returned to the kitchenette, this time with a bad case of cottonmouth.

"Feeling better?" Micah beat me to the glasses, and handed me water.

"Slightly, thank you." I took a long, refreshing drink, finishing off the glass. "No scuba diving for you?"

"Overrated," he said quickly. I caught him glancing at the gear on the couch.

"You didn't have to stay, you know."

"I know, but, there is still time – if you want to..."

I smiled but shook my head no as gently as possible. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to take a rain check."

"I suspected as much, so I arranged something else for us."

"What?" I asked, looking him over.

"It's a surprise. Just get dressed, brush out that mop you call hair, and we'll get going." He returned to the couch, packing a small bag with our passports, money, and water bottles.

I narrowed my eyes at his comment but obeyed. Within an hour we were in a taxi on our way to God knows where. "Aren't we going to do that...thing, today?"

"That thing?"

"Oh, you know what I mean."

"Yes, fortunately I speak Kaitlyn-ese," he said. "That, _thing_ , is on hold until tomorrow. Susan couldn't get all the equipment she needed."

I nodded, looking out the window of the cab. "So what is the big surprise? Where are we headed?"

"The surprise is being human for a day. I thought we could do the tourist _thing._ " Micah teased. I slapped him playfully on the arm, and he caught my hand in his, intertwining his fingers with mine. "We are going to tour Alcazaba, the –"

"Moorish castle built in the eighth century?!" I finished his sentence for him. I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice. "I love castles!"

"I know."

"You know?"

"I..." Micah cleared his throat. "I saw all of your castle figurines when we were packing up your apartment."

" _You_ were in my apartment!?"

He motioned for me to keep my voice down, glancing at the driver.

"What else did you discover about me whilst sifting through my apartment?" I hissed in a whisper.

He released my hand and attempted to put his arm around me and pull me closer. I elbowed him. He got the point.

"Well, let's see here. I remember seeing an inordinately large amount of pillows on your bed..."

I interrupted, " _Decorative_ pillows."

"...and of course your plants."

"Makes for cleaner air; I did live in a downtown area, you know."

"I know, I was there, remember?"

I tensed up. Violation of my personal space even before we met, coupled with lingering resentment from the 'exercise' in the greenhouse, made me want to smash a flower pot over his head all over again.

"We had to go through your home office as well, and I came across a shoebox in the back of your desk drawer with dozens of unopened bank statements from one account; an account in Switzerland, to be exact."

My lips closed tight at the thought of that cursed bank account.

"Care to elaborate?" Micah prodded.

"No."

He waited in silence as the taxi made its way along the winding road, weaving in and out to dodge pedestrians, hand carts, and donkeys carrying people or goods.

I waited until I was sure he had let it go, but when I glanced at him, he was staring me down.

"Oh fine," I conceded. "The account was left to me when my parents passed. I have never used the money and I don't intend to."

"You've never thought of donating the money to a charity?"

"Why should anyone benefit from my parent's death?" I snapped.

"A conversation for another time, maybe." Micah rubbed at my shoulders in his attempt to ease the tension.

I turned to look out the window, taking in the scenery in an effort to calm down. The taxi made its way up a hill, and the crowds seemed to thin out. The white-washed buildings that were so prevalent throughout Spain stood side by side on the hillside. They were a good contrast against the forest of oak trees and the deep blue sea. I began looking at the trees growing alongside the road, and was shocked at what I saw. They had been stripped of their bark, to about seven feet up, exposing a very bright red core underneath. I rubbed at my eyes and leaned toward the window for a closer look.

"What happened to them?" I asked, appalled. "They'll die!"

Micah laughed. "Susan told me about them. The bark is used for cork, but it grows back again. They won't die; it is a sustainable process. The bark can be stripped on this type of oak tree every nine years or so."

I shook my head slowly. "I would have never thought these trees had such a vibrant color underneath. It's like they are bleeding."

"It does look harsh, but is a perfect example of a renewable commodity." Micah leaned toward the window to take a closer look himself.

Just then the taxi cab driver broke into a rant. A Spanish rant.

"Can you understand him?" I asked Micah.

He was staring intently at the driver. "A little. I think his brother is a harvester of cork – he has his own oak tree grove." Micah paused to listen a little longer. The driver talked faster and faster. "There are competing alternatives for cork, some that aren't as environmentally sound, and it's affecting his brother's business."

I shrugged my shoulders as the driver paused to take a breath and compose himself. "Happens in a lot of industries, people need to learn to evolve along with the changes and demands of the industry."

"It's not just that, Kaitlyn. As long as these forests hold some sort of economic value, people will take care of them. Lose that, and people will begin to chop them down to make way for other industries. It just goes to show the rippling effects decisions like that can have."

The driver nodded his head, in agreement.

"I guess you have a point. You want me to have a little talk with some of these wine companies about the way they seal their bottles? Maybe I could send a little wind their way."

"I don't think so, but I'll mention the plight to Cato. He can speak to our Shu," he addressed my look of confusion, "one of our guys who interacts with the air like Susan does with the water. His family owns a prominent vineyard and is pretty influential within the wine industry."

"Yeah, but one Shu can't change everyone's way of thinking and habits that have been ingrained," I said.

He shrugged, "We try anyway. Sometimes we take the political route. There are ways like certifying natural cork stoppers which will alert consumers to what they are buying. Many will choose products that support sustainable methods. Besides, cork is used in several other instances like insulation and flooring."

The cab driver rolled to a stop. Micah paid him and they exchanged business cards. I stepped out of the cab and was instantly mesmerized by the ruins before me. The castle and its surrounding walls dominated the hillside. The stonework, jagged and crumbling in places and recently restored in others, was offset by flowering bushes and Arabic-style water fountains.

We paid our entry fee and entered the large courtyard. As I was drinking in the site of one of the fountains, I accidentally bumped into another tourist taking pictures.

"Oh! Uh, sorry... I mean _excusez-moi_ , or...what country is this?" I stammered apologies in the first languages that came to mind. The tourist rudely shook his head and walked away without even acknowledging me.

"Smooth." Micah came up beside me. "That reminds me; I picked something up for you." He reached into his small bag and produced a disposable camera.

"Oh, wow. Thanks so much!" I quickly realized the enthusiasm in my reaction to the camera far exceeded my enthusiasm to the necklace he gave me the previous night. I made an effort to tone it down a bit. "I mean, that was very thoughtful of you. Thanks."

I immediately began clicking away. There wasn't exactly going to be the resolution and detail of my professional equipment, but it was nice to be doing something I was confident in. Inside the walls, we explored the vast gardens, walking underneath the various Moorish arches and marveling at several tiled mosaics throughout the property. I ached for my digital camera and the settings that could perfect each picture, but taking up an activity that was once a large part of my life, no matter what the resolution, was heaven.

Micah stayed close but let me walk the grounds on my own terms. I accepted the freedom gratefully. In photography mode I could spend hours on one feature, studying it and capturing pictures from several different angles. He didn't complain once and was careful to jump out of the way on the occasions when I aimed my lens in his direction.

After several hours of touring the grounds, we came upon a small café overlooking the entire grounds of Alcazaba, the Roman amphitheatre ruins below, as well as the adjacent Castillo de Gibraltar, and the city of Malaga all set before the broad background of the Mediterranean Sea. Micah ordered tapas and sangria in his broken Spanish. The waiter seemed pleased Micah attempted the language, even if it wasn't perfect. A far cry from the reaction I had with the security guard at the airport when I tried communicating in French.

Finishing up a lunch of crumbed, greasy deep-fried meats, and a little too much sangria, I looked at Micah. "Still disappointed that you didn't go scuba diving?"

Micah wiped his mouth with a napkin, then held his chin in his hand, pretending to think. "Hmm - nope. You're a much prettier sight than Alex in his speedos."

I laughed, leaning back in my seat. I looked out at the sparkling Mediterranean. "If we are going to be in the water tomorrow, it's better I stay away from it today."

He raised his eyebrows.

I tried to explain further, "You remember what happened when you found me? The small avalanche?"

He nodded.

"Disasters like that happen a lot around me. Moving around, even if it's in the same city, seems to help."

"Didn't Cato show you how to control that?"

"The best advice Cato gave on that subject was to seek Shawn's advice."

"Ah." Micah nodded. He leaned forward, lowering his voice, "There's something else that may help."

I leaned forward, too, "Does it involve drugging me into unconsciousness?"

"No."

"Then I am all ears."

"Okay. You know of the four elements; earth, wind, fire, and water?"

I nodded my head yes.

"There is a fifth element called Akasha. It is pure spirit, and somewhat controversial amongst those in our field. Some believe it doesn't exist; some believe it is absolutely necessary – the one truly essential element because it harmonizes the other elements. It is harnessed and rises mainly with emotions; desire, motivation, passion, or determination. If you can control those feelings, you are controlling your spirit and Akasha, thus your interaction with other natural elements around you."

"So I am supposed to keep myself void of any emotion?"

"I'm not saying to walk around like a zombie, but you can take steps to control your emotions."

"Such as?"

"Such as if you desire something – make sure you get it. If you feel passionate about something, follow it. Take the time to meditate, calm yourself frequently. Feed your cravings and fulfill your wishes."

I tapped my finger on the table, "This isn't some clever attempt to get me in bed, is it?"

"If that is what you desire—"

"Micah!"

People sitting around us turned at my squeal. Micah lowered his head, partly to hide his smile. "I'm just trying to help..."

"Trying to help me or your libido?" Our voices were almost at a whisper now.

"I'm trying to help _your_ libido, sweetheart." Micah's breath was heavy with the bitter-sweet aroma of sangria. I inhaled the scent and followed it in with the urge to kiss him, hard. His words resonated in my mind. _If you desire something – get it_. We were close enough to kiss; it would just take an inch more by either one of us.

"Is this what you really want?" he asked.

I didn't know, but my heart was beating loudly in my chest. I could feel it vibrating my entire body.

"My heart does," I whispered back.

"I know," he replied. "I can hear it beating."

"You can?" I furrowed my eyes and looked around. "That's weird."

I leaned away from him, ending the intense moment. Looking around, I frowned, and finally followed everyone else's gaze down the hill. The steady beating wasn't coming from my chest. There was some sort of procession in the town at the bottom of the hill. Large floats were making their way down the crowded streets, followed by the cadence of drums.

"What's going on?" I asked no one in particular.

" _Santa Semena_ ," said an elderly man, sitting at the table next to us.

I looked at Micah for clarification.

"Ah. A celebration of their Holy Week," he explained.

I looked closer; the first float was a tall canopy with a statue underneath. It swayed from side to side as if it would topple over any minute. The float drew applause from the thick crowd.

"Shall we?" Micah asked.

"Yes!" I said, excited to see what all the hoopla was about.

Micah paid and we walked down the winding hill. We reached the parade just as a military formation was marching by.

"Don't you want to take pictures?" Micah asked, having to raise his voice over the noise.

I shook my head, "No. I just want to...enjoy it." I reached for his hand and he obliged, winking at me before turning back to the parade. Another float was making its way toward us and the crowd pressed forward to see it. The float was carried by men in long white robes, who walked as one, following the cadence of the drummers behind them. It was a statue of Christ bearing the cross. The carriers' unity caused the statue to sway from side to side, creating the illusion that Christ himself was walking. It was all very reverent, but instead of an awed silence, there was a lot of applause, cheering, and spontaneous singing.

Once the float was almost directly in front of us, the robed men stopped in unison and set the statue down. The crowd pressed forward hoping to get a better look, a touch, or something. After a few seconds next to the float, people moved away to let others have the same experience. Everyone got the chance to see it up close. We were forced toward the float by the crowd and found ourselves in the front row. Next to us, a young mother with a small child on each of her hips had her eyes closed in prayer, and the elderly couple on the other side of us stared wide-eyed at the statue, crossing themselves. We followed their lead when they moved away. The drums started up again and the float bearers picked up their masterpiece to move on.

A loud crack caused us to spin around, looking back at the float we had just left. Christ was now leaning dangerously to one side as float bearers and onlookers alike clamored below him like ants trying to fix the statue. Without hesitating, I released Micah's hand and ran to help. Another crack, followed by panicked shouts, and the Great Lord was in a free fall straight toward the crowd. They scattered as I continued to run forward, closing the last few yards. Now the only thing to stop the statue was the pavement, and me. I had no time to consider if the thing was made of plastic, glass, or ceramic. Damned if these people were going to watch Christ shatter before their very eyes. I skidded to a halt underneath it, held up my arms, closed my eyes, and hoped for the best.

Its weight caused my knees to buckle, but it didn't crush me. I slowly opened my eyes. I wasn't using any powers. There hadn't been time to even consider the possibility. I looked to my side to see Micah, straining under the statue, same as me. In fact, he was bearing the majority of the weight.

"Olé!" I said.

He started to laugh, but stopped as his back gave out. Not two seconds later, the crowd surged in, lifting Christ from our shoulders. Relieved of our burden, we backed away as extra two by fours were brought in for repairs. Strange hands patted our backs and gratitude was given in many different languages. We bowed out, as quickly and graciously as we could, keeping a tight hold on each other.

We finally made it to the back of the crowd and were able to resume anonymity. After watching Christ turn the corner without any further complications, I turned to him. "I am tired; take me home."

After a long taxi ride back, we walked into our suite, still hand in hand. As I turned toward my room he swung me into his arms. "Stay with me tonight."

I looked at him. "Is that Micah talking or the sangria?"

"A little bit of both," he admitted.

I considered. "I'm not ready." I tried pulling away but Micah held tight. I looked at him; very aware he had a physical advantage. He looked at me, unblinking, for a long time. Then he took a deep breath in and released me.

"I'll wait for you." Micah took a few steps back, turned, and walked into his room. The door clicked shut behind him. I must have stood in the middle of the suite for minutes before I snapped out of it. I was still lost in his gaze and he wasn't even there.

_Quite the dangerous man_ , I thought. I walked into my own room and shut the door, deliberately locking it. Leaning against it, I sighed and said out loud, "Olé."

Chapter 26

Boats and Bananas

The shades on my window were wide open. I watched as dawn flitted across the Mediterranean. I was at peace, until it hit me. I didn't know anything about what was supposed to happen today. Panic replaced calm and I whipped into action. Within five minutes I had dressed and brushed my teeth and hair. I looked only slightly better than having just rolled out of bed.

I opened the large double doors to my suite and surveyed the living room, half expecting to see the crew there, waiting for me. It was desolate. I burst into Micah's room without knocking. He had the heavy curtains drawn shut and they were doing their job. His part of the suite was pitch black. I tried making my way toward him using his labored breathing as a guide. My eyes, not quite adjusted to the lack of light, failed me as I tripped over a large suitcase. That, combined with my loud, "Umph" and the jolt of my clumsy body crashing onto the floor sent Micah flying up. Without hesitation, Micah ran into my room, "Kaitlyn!?"

I didn't stop him. I didn't have time to. Still on the floor, I had barely turned my head to look out of his opened door and he was already in my room. I had a direct view. Micah's eyes, still heavy with sleep, couldn't adjust to the sudden brightness of the room. Blind and a little stupefied, he tripped over clothes I left in a pile on the floor in my own haste. His journey to the floor didn't look much better than mine, I imagine. Once there, he didn't make an effort to get up. Instead, he turned his head and looked directly at me. "Kaitlyn?"

"Present."

He smiled. "I see...now."

It was my turn to smile. We stayed that way for a while, on the floor in opposite rooms sending goofy smiles in each other's direction. That is until we heard a door swing open then click shut, and two very red high heels stepped into our perpendicular view of the living room. Susan. She took a moment to stare at each of us with one eyebrow raised.

We immediately got to our feet and avoided her gaze.

"Why...?" she started.

"Don't ask," Micah and I said at the exact same time.

Now she raised her other eyebrow and her look turned from one of scrutiny to one of surprise, then amusement. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Okay. Coffee?"

"Oh, God yes," I exclaimed with a little too much enthusiasm. Given the rough start, I was going to need as much help as I could to get me through the rest of the day. Susan handed us each a cup from the little cardboard tray she was carrying. She offered cream and sugar but I passed, hesitant to let anything get in the way of the caffeine hitting my system.

"Come on you two, we need to get going. Shawn and Alex have the boat ready. I'll explain what I can of the mission on the way."

Micah jumped at her words and ran into his room to get dressed. _Another boat._ I just groaned and dragged my feet while I walked around the suite feigning a search for my passport. Despite my attempts to prevent the inevitable, within five minutes Micah had all three of us piled into the elevator.

I studied the coffee cup in my hand, and found the predictable 'made with 100% recyclable material' logo. I muttered a huffy, "Of course."

Susan leaned over, looking at the cup. "What?"

I pointed at it.

She shrugged her shoulders. "My money goes to the greenest places in town."

The elevator doors opened and Micah tumbled out, tipping a bellman to get us in front of the taxi line.

"Okay, Sis. Give us the short version." Micah all but pushed us into the back of the taxi.

"In a nutshell, phytoplankton are on the decline and we are going to conduct an experiment to see if we can help them." Susan looked pleased with her explanation and took a sip of her coffee.

I looked at Micah to see if he was satisfied with that. He looked just as lost as I was.

"How about a bigger shell; something more like a coconut?" I suggested. That earned me two looks of confusion. "I mean to say can you give more details, like what is a phytoplankton, why do we care about them and how do we plan to save them?"

The driver took a sharp right turn and we all lurched toward Micah's door, smashing him up against it. I took that as a sign to start looking for a seatbelt and Susan did her best to clean up her coffee that spilled over onto Micah's pants.

He pushed her meddling hands away, "Stop it."

"Phytoplankton are organisms, microscopic plants that live in the oceans. They convert carbon dioxide into living matter and oxygen, essentially cleaning up our air. Since oceans cover 70% of the planet, the decline of phytoplankton would have a pretty devastating effect. Not to mention they are the base of the aquatic food web."

"So, what is it, exactly, Cato wants us to do?" Micah asked.

"Phytoplankton need nutrients from the bottom of the ocean to survive. Normally colder waters allow these nutrients to rise to the surface where the phytoplankton live, but the oceans are getting warmer, and warmer water can block the flow of nutrients. Kaitlyn and I are supposed to simply bring up the nutrients."

I tried to process everything Susan had just told me, but instead of figuring out how exactly we were going to go about doing it I couldn't help but be pessimistic. "Hasn't something been done about this yet? I mean, no offense, but I'm sure you aren't the first to discover this."

"Oh, no offense taken," Micah said. "In fact, we rarely make many scientific discoveries on our own. We just, find our own solutions to them."

"Yes, there have been other experiments done," Susan said. "For example, last year there was a large-scale operation to add iron sulphate to the ocean to promote phytoplankton growth. It helped, but it hasn't turned into a consistent solution. There are those who argue that this kind of artificial manipulation isn't the answer, and may have negative side-effects."

"But isn't that what _we_ are doing? Manipulating the ecosystem?"

"Yes, but in a more natural way. We aren't adding anything new to the oceans, or taking anything away. We are just encouraging parts of the process to run more quickly and efficiently."

I had just managed to click my seatbelt together when the driver pulled into a parking lot and announced our arrival. I sighed and actually struggled a bit to release the buckle. I heard one of the two sitting next to me stifle a giggle, or perhaps it was both of them. They had the same laugh.

The small dock had only a few piers jutting out into the sea. It was quiet; most of the boats had already gone out, taking advantage of the morning sun. To the right of the docks was a large beach, full of sun bathers, sand-volleyball games, big beach umbrellas, surfers and swimmers. I looked at them, jealous that they had the option of keeping their feet on dry ground.

Susan and Micah were already halfway down the pier, headed toward a rocking boat. My stomach twisted in anticipation. "Stupid phytoplankton," I mumbled, forcing myself to put one foot in front of another.

By the time I reached the boat, everyone was aboard and Micah was standing at the gangplank waiting to help me in. I hesitated, giving Micah the whiniest look I could manage. Alex appeared over his shoulder and waved a banana at me. "I've got fruit..." he sang, trying to tempt me onboard.

I had to laugh. I took Micah's extended hand and he helped me over, holding on to me afterwards a few seconds more than was necessary.

While the rest prepared to launch, I peeled the outer skin off my 'medicine'. Susan had exchanged her red high heels for solid, waterproof boots. She looked like she belonged at sea. She pulled ropes from the dock and made quick work of piling them neatly in stacks. Alex and Shawn argued about who was going to pull out of the port. Alex won after pointing out that the rental was under his name. Shawn, instead, quickly occupied himself by making lewd comments to Susan, earning himself a punch in the arm from Micah. Susan saw me watching them and gave me a wink. Of any group I thought I might work with to 'save the world', they would be the last. Despite my misgivings, I was actually enjoying myself.

An hour later, we had passed through the Strait of Gibraltar and were bearing west into the Atlantic. I was not enjoying myself anymore. I had retched over the side of ship, twice. Everyone took places on the opposite side of the ship to avoid the unpleasantness. Except Micah. He stayed to hold back my hair like any good Ardwyad would.

He handed me a bottle of water. "Are you going to be okay to do this thing?" I gathered his concern was for the mission, not me.

"It would be easier to answer that if I knew what I am supposed to be doing, exactly."

"Well, if you think you could control your stomach for a few minutes, I'll call Susan over and we will go over the plan."

"Of all the—!"

"Stop giving her such a hard time, Micah." Susan walked toward us, coming to my defense. "Here." Susan handed me a wet towel. "It will help to cool you down."

I laid it over the back of my neck.

Susan sat down on the bench beside me. "So, once we find a good solid group of phytoplankton, the plan is for you to release the nutrients from the ocean floor and I will direct it upward. Shawn will be there to take your powers and strengthen them, and to ensure our powers don't clash with each other. Micah, you need to link with Kaitlyn to keep her calm and focused, and maybe you can even do something to soothe her stomach, you know, other than holding her hair."

"And Alex?" I motioned to the captain's deck.

"Alex, will, um, steer the boat," Susan said.

I wanted to switch jobs with him. I looked back to Susan, eying her skeptically. "So say this does work. We aren't going to be here forever doing this."

"The phytoplankton will feed on the nutrients and multiply. The more of them there are, the more carbon dioxide gets pulled from the atmosphere. That lowers the average temperature because of fewer greenhouse gasses. Thus the ocean gets colder and more nutrients rise on their own. It should be a self-sustaining circle, in theory. We will of course monitor conditions to see if that is what actually occurs, and we won't be sure of the results for several years to come."

"Sounds like you have a new home," Micah said.

"I've already started looking for apartments," she smiled. "But I'm waiting to see how today goes before committing."

They both looked at me, as if to emphasize Susan's happiness depended on how well I did today. _No pressure or anything._

"Hey, Susan!" Alex called. "This video imaging thingy says we are right over a large concentration of phytoplankton."

Susan got up quickly, mumbling something about a several-thousand-dollar piece of equipment being called a "thingy," and walked over to a chest secured on the deck of the boat. She untied the rope that held it shut, reached in, and pulled out a net. She walked back by us and I got a closer look. "Pantyhose?"

The net was actually a pair of pantyhose tied to a circular piece of metal.

"It works better for catching phytoplankton than any other net I've ordered online," Susan said. "Micah – come help me with this."

The pair of siblings tied extra string to the contraption and let it down into the water. After a few minutes they pulled it back up and Susan brought it upstairs to study what she caught under a microscope. The sound of the engine dying down told us she was satisfied with the location.

Micah called us to the most open part of the deck. "Okay, let's give this a shot. We are going to start slow and light, don't go too big too fast."

Shawn interrupted. "Why waste our energy trying something that won't work? I say we need to go big right away, or go home."

"And risk an earthquake, or tidal wave, or God knows what?" Micah glanced in my direction.

I scowled.

"No," he seemed to be reassuring himself. "We start out slow. This isn't an emergency. We can come back tomorrow and the next day if need be. Alex, don't anchor, but try keeping the boat in one spot as much as possible."

Alex saluted and ran back up to his place at the wheel.

"Susan, be careful when you first take the nutrients from Kaitlyn, we don't know how each of your powers will react. Don't bring them up right under the boat. Keep them as far away from us as you can manage while still maintaining control."

"This isn't my first time out, Micah." She glanced at me, then shut her lips, tight.

Micah frowned at his sister and turned to face me. "You ready?"

"Let's just get this over with." I headed to the side of the boat and looked over the edge.

"That's the attitude." Shawn snorted.

I flipped him off.

Micah stepped up behind me, put his hands on my shoulders and rubbed, trying to release some of my tension. "You're going to reach out and find both iron sulphate and phosphorus. Bring it up as far as you can. Once Susan reaches it, she'll take it from there. It's not complicated, but it will require a lot of energy. You may have to go pretty deep."

"Not complicated? How the hell am I supposed to know the difference between the iron and everything else?"

Micah was annoyingly calm, "Hold out your hand."

I did and he dumped the contents of a small plastic bag into it. I looked at the green crystals.

"When those are heated, they turn yellow and lose the crystal-like quality because the water inside evaporates. You can use pure energy to heat it."

I rolled the crystals around in my hand.

"Go ahead, try it," Micah urged.

I hadn't used my powers in days, and it suddenly felt like a lifetime. Micah suggested pure energy so I didn't draw from anywhere, only from within. It was more difficult than at the Chakra; like trying to run in water. Not willing to burn my hand, I sent only the tiniest bit of energy into the crystals. Slowly, they began to change. I felt a sensation of saltiness. I couldn't taste or smell it. I just sensed it was there. Micah seemed satisfied with the small-scale experiment and put the sulphate back in the plastic bag.

"I don't have phosphorus you can hold. It isn't really safe. But phosphorus is a pretty reactive compound, once things start moving around down there, you may be able to sense it. If it helps, phosphorus is used in explosives, matches, and fireworks. If there's an element down there that feels similar to those things, you may have it. There aren't too many explosive chemicals underwater."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Sorry," Micah apologized. "It's the best I could do. The rest is up to you."

Susan and Shawn came to stand on either side of me, and Micah wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt warmth in my belly and realized it wasn't just from his hands next to my skin. He was channeling to take away the feeling of motion sickness. It helped.

"Let's begin," Susan said softly.
Chapter 27

Outcast

Susan closed her eyes and emitted energy. It was much more prevalent in the water, like sonar shooting to the ocean floor.

Micah whispered in my ear, "Stay within those boundaries, she is helping to clear away any animal life or debris so it won't hinder your signal."

I took a deep breath and sent my own weaves straight down Susan's tunnel.

Almost immediately, Shawn had to criticize me. "Not nearly far enough."

I shot him a dirty look that was only returned with a cold smile.

"Don't get distracted," Micah intervened. "It's just you and me."

_Right._ I gathered energy and added it to my small stream – it went down maybe another 100 feet, but I still didn't hit the bottom.

Suddenly, I felt my energy stream tighten. The constriction was claustrophobic. My body tensed and Micah whispered again, "It is just Shawn. He's creating a funnel. It narrows your power but allows it to go farther."

"It is too tight, I feel choked by it."

"Just endure it. Concentrate on the seabed. Look for your compounds." Micah started a soft chant in a foreign language. It was incomprehensible but helpful nonetheless. I felt my stream hit a rocky bottom, and I began to move it around. It was difficult with Shawn's funnel. I could only search small areas at a time. It took several minutes before I even found sand.

"We can't do this forever, you need to work faster, Princess."

"Loosen your grip, and I can search a wider area," I spat at Shawn over Micah's chanting.

"You don't have enough power," Shawn said.

"You don't know what I have. I could take energy from something else."

"You can't take anything from the sea," Susan said. "That will mess me up."

The warmth in my stomach and the whispering in my ear were becoming annoying now. I began to sweat.

"This is getting harder to hold," Shawn piped up again. "If I accidentally release this, we risk losing the steam we have built up. Just find something!"

Micah leaned toward Shawn. "Give it a little bit longer, and stop pressuring her. I know she can do this."

"Dude, I can't hold this much longer. She should have found something by now. What kind of Gaia gets seasick anyway?"

"Shawn, I am literally searching a square inch at a time. I'm not going to find anything this way." Our flows sputtered with a lack of concentration.

Micah must have noticed too. "Kaitlyn, take some energy from me."

I twisted my neck and looked at him in surprise. "I can do that?"

"It has been done before. It'll just be like taking it from the earth, only easier, because I will be sending it willingly."

"I don't know," Susan sounded concerned. "If you guys have never done it before, that could end very badly."

"Well, we have to try something, let's just do it." Shawn was sweating now, too.

"Okay," Micah said. "Shawn, loosen your funnel little by little. Kaitlyn, add power to your stream as you can, but don't overdo it."

"Micah..." Susan warned.

"It's okay, we'll be careful." Micah glanced at Susan, then turned back to me. "Take what I'm already sending into your stomach. Add it to your stream. Don't let it build up inside you, just open the channels so it flows completely through."

I felt Shawn's funnel open slightly and I immediately filled the extra space with more power. My search area widened. "More," I commanded Shawn. Surprisingly, he obeyed. "Even more." I was moving along the seabed quicker, covering a lot of ground. I wasn't taking any energy from Micah, I was only using what he sent me, and it was working well.

Finally, in a small corner of my search area I sensed a higher concentration of salt. "I think I found some sulphate."

I felt a sudden surge of power from Micah. It sent me stumbling forward and I would have gone straight over the edge of the boat if Susan hadn't grabbed me.

"Kaitlyn!" Micah yelled, voice strained. "Stop it!"

I turned around in a panic. "I'm not doing anything!"

Micah had doubled over and dropped to his knees.

"Keep your channel open!" Shawn yelled. "It has to close slowly or there could be damage!"

But the flow coming from Micah was just as strong as ever, and something about it felt...tainted. Something was wrong. Susan ignored Shawn's warning and I felt her streams snap shut. I followed her lead. By the time my flows were gone, Micah had collapsed all the way onto the deck. His sister leaned over him, desperately trying to keep him conscious. I ran around to the other side of him. Shawn stepped back, giving us our space.

"Micah, Micah!" Susan slapped his cheek. "Stay with me!"

I was still in shock. Alex came running down the stairs with a small first aid kit. He opened it but looked hopelessly at Micah; Band-Aids weren't going to fix this.

Micah turned his head toward me. With what took a visible amount of effort, he said, "You..." and then he passed out.

I looked over my shoulder. With Shawn behind me I couldn't tell who the 'you' was directed at, or what Micah even meant by it. Susan and Alex began checking his vitals.

Alex finally announced, "I think he is okay. He is just exhausted. He may not wake up for a while, but that is for the better. He needs to rest."

Susan nodded her head, blinking away the tears forming in her eyes. "Right. Let's get him back to my place. I can hook him up to an IV there, just in case."

Alex got the boat underway. I sat on the deck with Micah's head in my lap. Susan checked on him frequently, but never said a word to me. She didn't even look at me.

Shawn leaned on the railing nearby, "You really screwed up this time."

I shot him an icy look at him, but didn't say anything. Susan was close enough to hear us, and did not come to my defense. I could only assume she agreed with Shawn. In a short span of only a few minutes, I had become the outsider. I was an outcast, just like at the Chakra. Only this time, I managed to put my only ally out of commission.

Once docked, Alex ran to hail a taxi and Shawn hoisted Micah up over his shoulder. I followed them off the boat and down the pier, watching Micah's dirty boots bounce in front of me.

Susan stopped me before we got into the taxi. "Maybe it would be best if you waited at the hotel. I'll send word when it is safe to come and visit."

"I have to make sure—"

"You can't come," she said, raising her voice. "Just...go to the hotel, Kaitlyn."

I was in no shape to challenge Susan. Once assured I would obey, she turned around and got in the taxi with Shawn and Micah. Alex stayed behind with me. He glanced at me before looking away again. "I need to go turn in the paperwork for the boat. You can come with me, then we can go to the hotel together."

"No. I'll just go to the hotel now."

Alex nodded his head without argument. I watched him walk away. When he was out of site I hailed my own taxi.

By the time I got back to the suite, it was mid-afternoon. Without thinking, I went to Micah's room and curled up on his bed. I flung the large comforter over my head, cocooning myself in. I breathed in Micah's scent and did the best thing one could do to pass the time; I slept.
Chapter 28

Girls Night Out

I stretched, loosening tight muscles that had been in the fetal position too long, and pulled the blankets from my head. Darkness engulfed the entire suite. The clock confirmed the late hour; 11:36 pm. I got up to use Micah's bathroom, avoiding my refection in the mirror. I couldn't even face myself right then. Walking back into the room, I looked at the crumpled sheets on the bed, debating if I should get back in or get something to eat. The suite's doorbell rang.

I walked over to the door, hesitated, and looked through the peephole before opening it. If it was Shawn, I definitely wasn't going to open the door. If it was Alex, I would make an excuse to get rid of him. It turned out to be neither – it was Susan. _Oh, man._ I didn't know if I was up for the cat fight that might ensue. I looked again. She held a large bag from the café downstairs up next to her face and smiled. _Ok – a peace offering_. I opened the door.

She looked as beautiful as ever, especially, no doubt, in comparison to me. She held up the bag. "Peanut butter sandwich and chocolate chip cookies. The perfect end to a bad day."

I managed a weak smile, and motioned for her to come in.

She sat down on the sofa and began unloading the bag, setting everything out on the coffee table. The meal came complete with paper plates and napkins. Once everything was set up, we both just sat and stared at the food.

I broke the ice, "They didn't have tuna tonight?"

She shook her head, "Sorry – I don't do tuna. Too much international overfishing."

"Right. What about sangria?" I was kidding, but looked hopefully at the bag anyway.

Susan laughed. "No, although it could be arranged... but first things first. Micah's fine – he's still sleeping and probably will be until well into tomorrow, but all his vitals are good. We had a doctor come check him out."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Can I see him now?"

"Yes, but first I want to talk about what happened today."

"Listen, I don't know what happened." I resisted the urge to throw my hands in the air. "I didn't take anything from Micah that he didn't willingly send me. All of the sudden there was just this, surge. And it felt different. It was still Micah's energy but something was wrong – I don't think he meant to send it."

Susan held up her hand to stop my defense. "I believe you. I don't want you to think I'm upset with you, I've just been worried about Micah. You have to understand we're the only family each other has. But, that surge obviously caught you by surprise. I remember stopping you from going overboard."

I leaned forward, "But did _you_ feel anything different when it came?"

"My powers only involve water. I can't sense anything that goes on outside of it."

"Well, like I said, something wasn't right." I rubbed at my temples. "It was all a little too much to handle at once anyway, with Micah and Shawn both interfering. I really think I could have done fine on my own."

Susan nodded her head. "Shawn and I were talking about it, and we came to the conclusion that it might be worth a shot to try it out again tonight, just the two of us, you and me. If you are up to it."

I was not entirely sure why Shawn would agree to that, seeing as how he thought I couldn't do it without his help. Maybe he thought I would find out on my own that I wasn't strong enough without him. Well, I was up for the challenge. If Susan and I were successful on our own, that would halfway make up for what a happened earlier today.

"Let's do it." I stood and headed for the door, food untouched.

Susan followed closely.

I almost ran her down when I turned suddenly. "Wait, let me just get something." I ran to my bathroom and put on the butterfly necklace Micah had given me, taking a second to improve my appearance. Running the brush through my hair, I began to think how awkward this felt, Susan and I going out together, not telling anyone where we were going. What if something were to go wrong?

I walked back out to see Susan standing by the door. "Do you think we should leave a note?"

She considered it. "I'll just give Shawn a call on his cell and let him know. Alex wasn't in his room when I came up. Maybe he was going to my place."

* * *

Stepping out of the cab at the docks, Susan explained, "This particular pier leads out pretty far into the sea. We should be able to find phytoplankton. They are usually present all throughout; it's just a matter of locating a big enough concentration to produce results. I think I might be able to sense them on my own."

We walked to the end of the pier, taking a minute to look out into the inky, black water. A chill went down my spine. I had to remind myself that water was Susan's thing. If anything happened she should be able to protect us. Somehow. I inched a little closer to her and noticed she was doing the same.

"The only problem with doing this now is krill will feed on the phytoplankton at night," Susan said. "So we need to keep them away until we are done. I can do that, but I won't be able to give you the same tunnel I did earlier. You shouldn't need it, though. The ground is a lot closer here."

"All right, let's give this a shot." I took a deep breath. It was now or never. She sent her weaves straight into the sea.

"There are phytoplankton here. Not many, but we can still make this work."

I took her word for it and began to send out my own weaves. Again, I used energy from within in order to keep it as pure as possible. It would be easier to heat the sulphate that way. The search was much more efficient this time; I was able to widen the area to dozens of square feet. I found several small pockets of sulphate, and discussed them with Susan, but since we had plenty of time and stamina we decided to find a larger concentration. After about half an hour of searching, I found what I was looking for, deposited a few feet under the sandy seabed amongst a group of rocks. There was no mistaking either the saline or the crystal qualities of the stash.

"I think I found some," I reported, voice a little high from my excitement. "Now let me just make sure..." I narrowed and strengthened the energy stream to heat the sulphate. It took longer through the water, but eventually I began to feel the crystal part of the granules disintegrate. "Yes, that's definitely it."

"Okay, stay with it. Bring it up toward the surface. I'm going to take it from you and drag it closer to us." She kept her voice calm.

I did as instructed. It was difficult keeping the sulphate together through the currents. I lost some of it along the way. Waiting to find a larger concentration of it had been a very good idea.

"Steady, steady." Susan must have sensed the group getting smaller and smaller. "I'm going to take it from you now. Once you feel me, let go of it. Slowly."

I waited, wondering how I would know she had it. But she was right, I felt it. A small shock passed between our flows of power, almost like static electricity. Our streams wavered back from each other. I lost more of the sulphate.

"Try again, slowly..." Susan coaxed me through it.

The second time we tried there was still a shock, but it was expected and our power flows didn't react. I felt a small, fluid circle of power surround the sulphate, and I released my stream.

"Good," Susan said, falling silent for at most a few seconds. "Okay – it is just a few yards in front of us now."

"That was fast."

"I'm used to working in the water," she smiled.

I sent out a signal once again and found it. It was the same amount of sulphate as when I let go. She hadn't lost a single granule.

"Okay, take it back from me. Try to encircle it like I just did. Make the circle long but almost flat, like a plate just below the surface of the water."

We passed it off again with ease this time; we were getting good at it. It took a while to shape the sulphate as Susan described, and she mentored me along the way. Once done, she exclaimed, "Perfect! Now hold it just like that. I am going to sort of encourage the phytoplankton to absorb the nutrients."

I held fast. Something must have been happening, Susan's face went from a look of deep concentration, to excitement, to disappointment, then back to concentration.

Another half hour went by and just as I began to feel the first effects of fatigue, she whispered, "It's working."

"It is?"

"It is. They're taking the nutrients. Can't you sense the sulphate disappearing?"

I paid more attention, and did feel the mass start to dwindle. It was so slight that I wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't said anything. "Yes! I do feel it!"

"Keep holding it, if you can. Let's let the phytoplankton finish off the iron sulphate," Susan nearly cooed, like they were her pet, or worse, her child. We both sat down and even though we were tired, as the iron sulphate dwindled off it got easier to hold what was left. It had to have been approaching four in the morning by the time all of the sulphate was gone. Just as the last of it disappeared, the tide receded.

"That was a fast tide," I said.

" _That_ was an unnatural tide." Susan stood, suddenly alert, looking out at the water.

The chills on my spine were back. The world darkened even further. I looked up to see the moon disappear.

It didn't have time to register. Not until Susan screamed, "Wave!"

We ran, but we were no match for it. The cold water crashed into me like a freight train. My feet slipped out from under me. My head hit the pier, hard.

I choked up the salty water, the taste clinging to my tongue. I turned around to search for Susan – she was nowhere in sight. The wave must have washed her off the pier.

"Susan?!"

_She'll be fine,_ I told myself. _She can handle the water_.

I heard the next wave before I saw it. I froze. I did the only thing I could do in preparation. I took a deep breath in, and hoped it wasn't my last.
Chapter 29

Perro Gaurdian

Silence and darkness. I slowly, hesitantly, became conscious. Separated from my senses, I concentrated on recovering them. My limbs felt weighted, and not just from the suffocating humidity that surrounded me. I was drained.

_One at a time_ , I coaxed myself.

Sound came to me. There was a soft wind rustling through trees and grass nearby. Taste came next, something salty but acidic. Now for the hard one; sight. After several more minutes of mental coaxing, I mustered the strength to open my eyes.

I half expected to be floating in the ocean, but I wasn't. I was lying in a large soft bed, covered lightly in sheets. From the feel of them against my skin, I knew I was bare. Even the familiar weight of the butterfly necklace had been stripped. Netting draped down over the bed from a central loop anchored into the ceiling above. I strained my eyes further and focused beyond the netting. The room wasn't much larger than the bed. Two expansive glass doors took up an entire wall on either side. The doors were pushed open, letting the wind pass through, causing the net to flutter.

The ground outside the doors was covered in low-lying, green vegetation. Sparsely placed trees blocked most of my view, but I could hear surf pounding against a rocky shore in the distance. It wasn't the same surf as Costa del Sol, or the island of Simuleue. Out one set of doors was a large generator and further back sat what looked like a large, old feeding trough. Out the other door was nothing but nature and several small, two-man tents dotting the landscape. Occasionally, wisps of conversation floated in with the wind.

Dama...barca...isla.

Men, without a doubt. Spanish, most likely. But a different dialect than in Spain.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I cocked my head. A small, white and dark-gray penguin waddled into the room. _A penguin?_ I blinked several times, willing my eyes to conjure something more believable. A dog, a monkey, hell – I would have even taken a tiger. In this humidity an exotic cat would have been more appropriate.

The penguin took a few more steps to the bed, looked up at me and squawked. Surprised that such a cute and tiny thing could make such a loud and annoying noise, I lifted my head and gasped. A sudden gust of strong wind came in from outside. It took hold of the glass doors and blew them in hard enough to shatter; tiny shards of glass flew toward me and the penguin.

The penguin, as startled as I was, jumped onto the bed and flailed its flippers in irritation, squawking the whole time. I crawled backwards to the other side of the bed. My movements were weighted, as though I were in thick mud. Just as my gasp was met with a strong wind, my crawling was met with a slight rumble under me. The ground didn't shake; it rolled, enough to toss me off the bed. I lay on the floor deathly still, fearing what another movement might bring. The vicious penguin now stood on the end of the bed, towering over me, still squawking.

I heard cautious footsteps enter the room, crunching glass under them. Suddenly, a squat, dark man with curly black hair poked his head into view. Another face appeared beside him, then another, and another. Soon I was surrounded by them.

Someone from the back of the group shouted, " _El pingüino la paró._ "

The rest laughed and cheered.

One of them picked up the penguin and they started chanting, " _Perro guardian, perro guardian._ "

The penguin looked down from its newly established pedestal and I could swear it was smirking at me. I had never wanted to kick an animal so badly in my life. I placed my hands flat on the floor in order to lift myself up, and the earth rumbled in warning. The men felt it too and their cheers turned to fearful gasps as they struggled to keep their balance. I slowly laid my arms back down by my side.

"What's going on?" a familiar voice interrupted. Shawn pushed his way through the group of men and stopped by my side. His scanned the scene. As his eyes passed over me, I realized I still had nothing on. I reached up to grab a sheet from the bed for protection, but Shawn stopped me.

"Don't move," he commanded. "You'll sink this island right out from under us."

I believed him.

After he was satisfied I would obey, he pulled a sheet off of the bed and flung it over me, barely covering the essentials. Turning to the group of men, he began giving orders in Spanish. They jumped into action, cleaning up the glass and disassembling what was left of the broken doors. The penguin was ushered out; giving one last squawk which was probably directed at me.

After the bed was made up and the netting put back in place, Shawn lifted me from the floor, taking no notice that the sheet slipped off, and laid me in the bed. He turned me to one side and started pulling out small slivers of glass that made their way into my back. I heard packages of Band-Aids being ripped open and discarded. After I was bandaged, he rolled me on my back and pulled the blanket up to my chin. The other men were finishing up their tasks and began filtering out.

"Now listen carefully," Shawn leaned over me. "We are on one of the most active islands in the world. This place contains things found nowhere else on Earth. Just as the Chakra gave you strength, these islands will drain you. If you're here long enough, they will kill you. This place reacts to your every movement – it doesn't want you here."

Moving my lips as little as possible, I asked, "Can I talk?"

Nothing happened, no wind and no earthquake.

He laughed, "Yes, although I wouldn't try yelling."

"Galapagos?" I guessed the location.

"Smart lady. _La Isla Isabel_ , to be exact. You are on the wild, remote, and forbidding northern end, home to the largest Marine Iguanas on the islands as well as the Galapagos Penguins, to which I see you've already been introduced." Shawn gestured outside to the penguin, now happily accepting fish from one of the men. "A new addition to our little tribe found yesterday snooping around the food supplies. I believe they have just named him dog, as in guard dog, in honor of your little incident."

I huffed, pushing thoughts of the annoying little penguin out of my mind. I tried to remember what I knew about the islands. I've seen documentaries before. They were in the Pacific Ocean, several hundred miles west of Ecuador. From what I remembered, they were directly over the equator and atop something called the Galapagos hotspot, a place where Earth's crust was being melted from below, creating volcanoes. Shawn wasn't lying; the volcanoes were still highly active.

"Why am I here?" I asked, still speaking as slow and soft. If Shawn wanted me dead, he had plenty of chances by now.

He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "I need you for a few experiments – something that Cato would never agree to."

"But why–"

"Don't worry; there will be plenty of time for talking later. For now this bed is your prison, and I am your only visitor." His fingertips went from my hair and lightly traced my lips. "That is, unless you know Spanish. Or perhaps, you can speak penguin?"

I squirmed.

"Tsk, tsk," he scolded. "Remember what happens when you move?"

I forced myself to relax. "Well, I can't just lie here all the time. I need to eat, and what happens when I need to use the bathroom?"

He stood, walked across the room, and picked up a bedpan.

"You have got to be kidding me." I wrinkled my nose at it.

He wasn't. "I'll have one of the men help you the first few days. It will take time but you'll be able to learn to move a little on your own without causing a 6.0 on the Richter scale. I'll teach you how."

"Why bother?" I asked. "Why not just leave me completely immobile?"

Shawn smiled and set the bedpan back down. He came around to the side of the bed, and pushed the netting aside to sit. "You and I are going to be here together for quite some time, and if I must endure you, I'm going to do my best to enjoy it. When I speak to you, I want you to speak back. When I play with you, I want you to play back." The smile left his face. "And when I fuck you, well, you get the drift." He took my chin in one hand and turned it slightly so my ear was exposed. He leaned in, and whispered, "This time, Princess, I will have my cake and eat it, too."

I watched Shawn leave as I fought down the lump in my throat.

Another prison.

Shawn left, and I took a slow, controlled deep breath.

Where were Susan and Micah? Did he do something even worse with them?

The fear and confusion flooding my system was slowly replaced by anger.
Chapter 30

Not Quite

As the sun sank below the horizon, the temperature grew much cooler. I was thankful for the thick blanket. I had spent the afternoon lying in bed, only daring to move my eyes. The same men from earlier were hard at work in the room, and I could hear several more pairs of feet on the roof above me. I turned my head, careful not to make any sudden or dramatic movements. I was painfully aware of how much effort it took.

"You are getting better at it already." Shawn observed from the other end of the room. His sleeves were rolled up and dirt covered his arms up to his elbows.

"Assimilating to the natives, I see." I wanted to bite my tongue. I wouldn't mind spending the better part of my day offending Shawn, but turning the entire group of men against me when I was so vulnerable wouldn't help matters. I glanced around.

"Don't worry," he said. "None of these guys know English." Shawn turned around to continue his work.

I looked down. Several two foot tall dirt piles surrounded the bed. Further out from the dirt piles were lit candles, side by side, making a wall of muted flame. After that were shallow bowls, each filled to the brim with water, and furthest away from me the men had started to set up electric box fans. The fans faced outward, plugged into a network of cables leading to the generator.

Shawn stopped what he was doing and walked outside. I watched his silhouette as he washed his hands and face using water jugs. He changed clothes and walked back in the room to inspect the men's work, the penguin wobbling around his feet the whole time. Once satisfied, he nodded to someone standing at the generator. A switch was flipped on and all of the fans whirled to life, blowing air out and away from the room. The penguin, startled by the sudden wind and noise, gave an irritated squawk and ran off into the shrubs. I snorted. Served him right.

Shawn stepped over each circle of obstacles to join me on the bed. "You laugh but remember what I said. The island doesn't want you here. That penguin could very well be the death of you."

"Oh, I'm not too worried about it. I have complete faith that if anything puts me six feet under, it'll be you."

"Good," he smiled. "So let's begin. First step is to sit up." He placed a few pillows upright against the headboard and slid his hands under my back as if to help me. I groaned at the thought of moving.

"Just go slowly," he coaxed.

My actions were awkward as I tried using just one hand to push myself up while the other clutched the blanket tightly to my chest.

"Oh, for Christ sake, I'm not going to try anything now. You aren't nearly ready for that." Shawn blurted. He reached over to the side of the bed and produced a white, oversized t-shirt. He slipped it over my head and helped guide my arms into the sleeves.

I let him slide me the rest of the way up to a sitting position. "What is all that for?" I asked, referring to the circles around us. Despite the openness of the room, it now felt private. The sound of the fans cut off any noise from the outside world, and the light of the candles made it difficult to see out much further.

He leaned back against the headboard and answered, "You are surrounded by each of the four elements; earth, fire, water, and air. The same has been done on the roof and we have placed alternating rows of water bowls and dirt under the bed. These specific elements, however, contain ingredients that are foreign to the island. The dirt and water were shipped halfway around the world from the Chakra. The candles are infused with pieces of plants from the Chakra, and the wind is obviously not natural. These elements, to a certain extent, mask your presence from the island. Although you will still feel drained of energy, you'll be able to move around a bit. It will allow you to survive longer. As you adapt, we will take away one element at a time until you learn to exist here. It will never be in perfect harmony with nature, but at least you will be able to just...exist."

Shawn repositioned himself, sitting directly in front of me with his legs crossed. "Ok, I want you to do as I do, keeping the same speed." He lifted his arms out from his sides slowly until they were straight above his head. I did the same, though my arms shook with exhaustion by the time they made it all the way up. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead.

Shawn noticed. "Maybe we should start with something smaller."

"No, keep going. I can handle it." I needed to learn as much as I could if I was going to help myself out of this situation.

He considered me for a moment, then went on. He brought his arms back down and hugged them close to his chest.

"Now moving only your waist up, lean from side to side and front to back." He demonstrated as he talked.

I followed. Lowering my weight was easy to do; it was the coming back up that was difficult. Gravity seemed to be magnified tenfold, and I was the only one affected.

Shawn got up and stood beside the bed. "Let's go for a little walk."

I hesitated.

"We're not going to leave the circle, we'll just go around the bed." He extended his hand to help me up.

I sighed, but gave in. None of my movements so far had caused problems. I just needed to keep it slow. I took his hand and swung my feet around to hang over the bed. I pushed up with one hand while he pulled. I let him do most of the work. Once I was steadied on my feet, he released his grip from my hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked, panicked to be standing on my own.

He smiled, reveling in this new reliance I had on him. "I'm right here, I won't let you fall. Just take it step by step."

I took a deep breath and turned, moving forward.

"Good, good," Shawn muttered false encouragement.

"Shut up, I feel like that damn penguin." I waddled my way around the rest of the bed, back to where I started. My legs shook, but I felt good, the kind of good you feel after a long run. "There, I can walk. Happy?"

"Not quite." He reared back his fist. My cheek exploded in pain before I could react and I was flung back onto the bed. The landing was intensified by a sudden movement of the island. The whole room seemed to lurch, once, then stopped. The majority of the standing fans tipped over, water spilled over from the bowls, dirt was scattered, and only a few candles remained lit. Shawn stumbled backwards, outside the circle of fans and was instantly concealed by darkness. "Hmmm, that was fun," his voice seemed to come from all directions.

I rubbed my cheek, and willed my head to stop spinning.

His laughter was eerie as he emerged into the dim candlelight. "I had to see what I could get away with."

So the island would react whether I was moving myself, or being tossed around by someone else. _At least I have that going for me._

Men began to filter in the room and started picking up fans and candles. Shawn waved them away in brusque Spanish.

I didn't have any clever retort. I looked away, defeated and tired. Dragging my head toward the pillows, I slowly pulled the blanket over me. Tears welled up in my eyes and despite my best efforts to keep them in, a few spilled over and ran down the length of my face, stinging my burning cheek.

Shawn bent over and grabbed a small handful of dirt. He mixed it with a few drops of water still remaining in a bowl, and crawled into the bed behind me. He spread the healing mixture across my cheek. The pain eased away but the fear did not. I couldn't handle the unpredictable character of the man; helping me up one minute and pushing me down the next, nursing injuries he inflicted moments ago.

I turned on my side, away from him. He inched closer, his large frame surrounding my broken body. He put one arm around me and made himself comfortable. His arm felt heavy, constricting, but I dared not move, fearing a reaction from the island now that the circle of elements were broken. Or worse, a reaction from the monster beside me.

I turned my thoughts to Micah. I tried to imagine that I was in Micah's arms instead; that it was his warm breath caressing the back of my neck. Just as I was beginning to believe my own illusion, Shawn's arm tightened around my waist.

He whispered, "I am the owl to Micah's butterfly. Don't ever forget that."

I forced the image of Micah out of my mind and Shawn loosened his grip. Left with no strength and the frightening images from my saining, I willed myself to sleep. It was the only reprieve from my new prison.

Chapter 31

Alive and Kicking

By the time I woke the next morning, the three outer circles of fans, water, and candles had been removed; the dirt piles remained. I sat up, took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The side of my face was tender, but all my teeth were there and my jaw was intact. I rubbed off the dried mud smudges and it suddenly came to me – I knew how I would escape. _Thank you, Shawn!_

One of the natives walked into the room, holding a piece of paper and a pencil. He practically side-stepped to the bed, eyes darting around the room. I gave him my best 'I mean you no harm' look and after an awkward minute of him trying to avoid my gaze I finally asked, "Can I help you?"

" _Si, senorita, uh.... Si_ ," he started stammering away in Spanish.

I understood none of it. I held up my hand. "Stop."

His eyes went wide, and he took a step backwards.

"No, I mean, um, do you speak English?"

He looked confused.

" _Hablo Engles_?" I asked in the cheesiest Spanish accent I could muster.

"Ah, no." He replied, happy he understood me. But his smile quickly faded and he shifted from one foot to another.

"Ok. Well, what is that?" I pointed to the paper in his hands.

He looked down, then jerked as if he were surprised to see the paper. I rolled my eyes. He pulled back the netting on the bed and held the paper so I could see. It was, of course, all in Spanish, but it looked like a long list of one or two word items.

His faced brightened with an idea. He stepped back and began to pantomime putting things in a basket.

"Oh, you're going to shopping? For supplies?"

He looked at me.

I acted out paying for something. "Buy?"

He nodded his head, the smile coming back.

"Charades, it is then." I began demonstrating everything I needed. Toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, soap, pants and shirts, shoes, books, food. After he guessed each thing he nodded excitedly and wrote it down on his paper. I decided to press my luck and asked for a cell phone. He frowned, but wrote each down after a little encouragement.

Now for the most important thing, "Also, I need _agua_."

He nodded and wrote it down.

I caught his attention and said, "I must have _mucho, mucho agua_."

Now he looked at me confused again.

"Um, I need _mucho agua_ to drink." I made a drinking motion. "And mucho, mucho, mucho agua to bathe." I pointed to the rusted trough that was used just this morning as a tub by some of the men. I acted like I was washing myself. "But, no _isla agua_. It must be other _agua_. _Mucho agua, no isla. Comprendo_?"

He nodded and wrote it down. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows, asking if there was anything else.

I thought about asking for some feminine products, just to be on the safe side, but quickly trashed the idea after considering how I would have to demonstrate those. Besides, I didn't have to worry about that since I'd been with The Seven. Maybe it had something to do with all the magic I was using.

"That's it," I said, waving him off.

I watched him walk away and said a little prayer, hoping he would run along and fetch everything, no questions asked. As if on cue, Shawn intercepted the man. The list was handed over for review. Shawn took the pencil and began crossing things out, giving me little smirks as he did so. As he read the last item on the list, he furrowed his eyebrows. He walked over to me.

"You want imported water, why?"

"Think about it, Shawn. You said yourself the island doesn't want me here. How do you think I will react to its local plants, food, and water? For all we know I could break out in rashes, choke, even die. I am not going to take the chance. I won't even use it to wash my hands. So you need to get me water from another source, enough to bathe in every day, or you can just learn to live with the smell of an unwashed, bed-ridden woman."

He studied me carefully, eyebrows still furrowed.

"Speaking of, you should probably make sure none of my food is local, either – and that none of the clothing is made with local material."

"We'll see what we can do, Princess, but I can assure you, there won't be any shoes or phones. And I will be personally selecting the clothes and books." He turned on his heels and walked out.

After he left, I got to work forming a plan in my head. If he returned with everything that I had asked for, I would be in good shape. I would start ingesting anything foreign to the island that I could. It should have the same effect the circle of fours elements did; masking my presence from the island. I looked around, thinking of how else I could help myself without depending on Shawn's supplies. I saw some wax drippings on the floor and smiled.

He said the candles were infused with leaves from the Chakra. I could start by picking out the leaf bits and eating those. My eyes moved to the dirt piles and I wondered how difficult it would be to eat dirt. I'd save that for more desperate times. I'd have to work physically and mentally to become stronger, but appear weaker by the day, as Shawn expected I would. I just had to be strong enough to make it to the shore, and maybe I'd catch the attention of boaters or an airplane. Even if we were on the desolate end of the island, this was a popular enough tourist destination to see someone out there.

Shawn came back several hours later as dusk approached with boxes full of supplies. He set one box down on the bed beside me and I started rooting through it; playing cards, a game of chess, clothes, a toothbrush and toothpaste, soap, shampoo, and books.

Rushing water caught my attention and I leaned around Shawn to see. Buckets of water were being poured into the trough.

"Where did that water come from?" I asked.

Shawn turned to look. "A nearby river."

"Then that bath better be for you."

"It's for you."

"Do you have short-term memory problems? I'm not going in there."

"Wrong again. You need a bath more than I do. I doubt you are going to melt away from the island's water, even being the witch you are."

I rolled my eyes and tried to think quickly. This could ruin everything. But Shawn didn't give me time to think. He scooped me up, carried me to the trough and dropped me in, shirt and all. The cold took the breath out of me. Shawn went to fetch the shampoo and soap and I folded my arms across my chest aware of what water did to a white t-shirt. I looked around; at least the rest of the men were avoiding me like the plague. My new viewpoint of the room showed it was just that; a room. Built with brick on the outside, it had a tiled roof, and looked odd without an attached house. Other than the room, not much else was around except for the large generator. A dozen more tents were erected deeper into the tree line.

"Well?" Shawn asked, making his way back to the trough. "Still alive?"

"Alive and kicking, despite your best efforts." My jaw chattered as I wondered if I'd come out with frostbite. Blackened toes would have been welcome; I was going to have to do something to prove I didn't mesh well with this water.

"Don't move; we don't have any protection set up."

"How do you expect me to wash when I can't move?"

"I'll wash, Princess. You just sit there and be your charming little self." Shawn pulled up a stool next to the tub, sat down, and rolled up his sleeves. He filled a cup with bath water and poured it over my hair. As he massaged the shampoo into my scalp, I tried to relax. He scolded me for not keeping my head up. I stiffened, like a helpless child, scared to upset daddy.

Finished with my hair, he pulled off my t-shirt in one jerk and threw it aside.

"Child molester!" I squeaked.

He looked stunned at the accusation. "What?"

"Nothing," I muttered. "Just let me do it." I reached for the soapy sponge he was holding, but my movement was slow and weighted, and he was fast.

"I don't think so." He began washing my feet, moved up my legs making small circles, and paused at my thighs. "Just consider this...foreplay."

My eyes widened, searching his face. He wasn't joking. I glanced back toward the bedroom. The sheets on the bed were being changed and the four circles of elements were once again set up. This time there were double the candles and double the water bowls.

_Now, Micah!_ I screamed out loud in my thoughts, _swoop in and save me now!_

Shawn growled.

I squirmed and backed away from his hands, as far as the trough let me go. My abrupt movement in the water was answered by an abnormally strong crash of waves in the distance. Shawn quickly pinned my chest and shoulders down with his forearm. He shoved his other hand in the water, forcing my legs apart and thrusting four of his fingers deep inside me. The sudden intrusion paralyzed me.

I groaned in pain and he leaned in. "Tonight can be enjoyable for you or unpleasant for you; I'll take pleasure either way." He leaned in closer, our lips nearly touching. "So what's it going to be?"

Still no Micah. _Susan?_ _Alex?_

Mom?

Dead silence, except for Shawn's breathing. Tears stung my eyes. He was waiting for my answer. I swallowed my pride, closed the rest of the distance between us, and sealed the deal with a kiss. I was in preservation mode. He accepted, forcing his tongue into my mouth, biting at my tongue and lips. Shawn hastily picked me up out of the bath and without even rinsing the soap off, he threw me on the bed. The clean sheets were instantly soaked through. He gave a gruff command in Spanish and everyone else left. The familiar whir of fans came to life.

Shawn undressed while I wriggled my way to the opposite end of the bed. I wasn't quick enough; he grabbed my ankle and pulled me toward him. "Easy way or hard way."

"Okay, okay," I conceded.

He positioned himself over me.

"Just go slow, I'm not ready yet."

"That's too bad, because I am." With that as my only warning, he forced himself inside me. The pain of his fingers was nothing compared to this. His first thrust tore me apart. It only got worse – he kept pounding into me, ripping me open, invading me with increasing vigor. I had to give up trying to push him off of me and instead braced myself, using my hands to avoid being crushed into the headboard. My thighs, still slippery with soap, were no help in slowing him down. Never before had I felt so used; like I wasn't even human, just an object. Worse – his object.

The shock helped me to disconnect from the situation. I tried riding the waves of pain, floating on top instead of sinking under. Both of his hands closing around my throat pulled me back. He squeezed harder, and my vision began to go black.

_Yes_ , I thought. _Pass out, spare yourself the pain._

He let go, laughing. Everything burned. I tried once again floating above it, willing my body to go numb, but Shawn continued to pull me back.

When I couldn't hold out any longer, I let out another silent cry for Micah.

Shawn slapped me, hard. "Get this through your pretty little head right now. He will never find you."

I gritted my teeth, looked Shawn in the eyes, and called for Micah again.

Growling, Shawn pulled back and flipped me onto my stomach. "Then go ahead and hope, Kaitlyn. Hope that this night ends soon." He spread my cheeks and with one, brutal thrust, pierced me where I had never before experienced, and hoped to never again. One hand held me tightly at the waist, pulling me into him, while the other kept my head pinned down. This time the pain was too much to ignore. I felt every tear and heard every grotesque sound. The only reprieve was that I didn't have to endure the sight of his face, grunting and smiling in his own ecstasy. I bit the pillows to keep from screaming, or crying, or maybe both. He finished with one final, deep lunge that I thought would never end, and then collapsed over me, his heavy breathing smothering my own.

"Get off of me." I used my elbow to wrench him out of the way, gasping for fresh air. I tried moving away but my battered body wouldn't allow it.

"Want me to get some mud for it?" Shawn slapped my behind, laughing at his own crass joke in between heaving breaths.

"You can _get_ me off this island. Make it a fair fight and I'll show you how it feels." I grabbed a candle, aiming at him.

He slapped it away easy, lazily almost. "You are always so witty, aren't you?"

"The real question is, have you always been so bitty?" I glanced at his 'southern region'.

Shawn scowled, then stormed out of the room. "Enjoy your wet sheets tonight; I'm going to sleep in my dry tent."

Barely holding it together, I let the tears flow as soon as he left my sight. I curled into a ball to make myself as small as possible under the sheets. I felt dirty, ashamed, powerless, and insignificant. I hated myself.

_Fight back_ , I told myself. _Your anger is with him_. Slowly, I pulled myself out of the wreck that I was, and took a deep breath. As much as I needed sleep, I had work to do that couldn't have been done with him near me. I started the next step to my plan by rubbing abrasively at my arms, making myself look as bad as I felt.
Chapter 32

Unpleasant Conversations

The next morning I woke a battered and bruised mess, inside and out. Pain coursed throughout my body, stealthily infiltrating every nook and cranny. My aching bones and sore muscles were barely held together by my rash-covered outer shell. I had spent the majority of the night rubbing myself raw, trying to prove a point about using water from the island.

The rubbing helped to fight off a creeping sense of despair that kept edging its way into my mind. Each time it did, panic and guilt were not far behind. _Focus_ , I kept telling myself. _Rub harder._

Mid-morning Shawn brought in something for me to eat. After one look at my arms he quickly withdrew the meal, "What's that?"

"That, is called an arm."

He huffed, "Why is that _arm_ so red?"

"Gee Shawn, maybe it's from your gentle touch last night, or maybe from the water I wanted to avoid. It does go nicely with my legs." I pulled up the sheets to show him similar rashes on my legs. "Which, in turn, complements my back, and my stomach, and...well, you get the point."

"Yes, I do. Our Princess has sensitive skin. If that is the case then I'll have the food and water imported. But, you'll have to wait for it. I can't feed you this, now. It is local. I might be able to get something in by tomorrow." I did my best to give Shawn a convincing frown as he walked out with the tray. He came back several minutes later with the penguin under one arm. He set both the tray and the penguin down and let that little bastard eat right in front of me. That did produce a genuine frown.

Shawn came over and made himself comfortable on the bed. I edged away from him as much as possible. He leaned back on his elbows and crossed his legs, watching the penguin make a mess of the fruit bowl.

I fought back the anxiety his mere presence caused, cleared my throat, and blurted out a question, "What happened to Susan?"

"Susan was kept underwater until we could take you out but she's fine; she knows how to survive there."

"So it was you? You caused the wave?" I looked at him in disbelief. There was no way he was that good.

"I have caused a lot of things."

"For example..." I prodded him on.

He turned and studied me for a minute, deciding how much information he should share. "For example, the greenhouse training exercise, the trip to Spain, and even your girl's night out."

"Does Susan or Micah know it was you?" I prompted the conversation further.

"I'm sure Susan may have guessed by now, considering I disappeared when you did. Last I heard Micah had still not awakened. You certainly did a number on him," Shawn gave me a sideways glance.

My thoughts went back to the incident on the boat and another realization dawned on me, "You caused that, too?! I knew it wasn't me, it couldn't have been." I was almost smiling with delight in the knowledge that I hadn't screwed it up after all.

The corner of Shawn's mouth turned up, "You guys are too easy to pit against each other."

"Except for the fact that when Micah wakes up, he will look for me. And Shawn..." I forced him to look at me, "He _will_ find me."

"Maybe, but will Princess still be alive? Time is not on your side."

I interrupted the tick-tock sound Shawn was making with a new line of questioning, "So do they know about your little clubhouse here?"

He laughed, "Nope. I maintain it under the pretenses of a lab. I built it years ago. Every time Cato sent me off on one of his stupid missions I was able to sneak away a few days to be here, getting things up and running. Bringing back pieces of the island with me, rocks, sand, or whatever, I could maintain my strength and grow my powers."

"Grow your powers? What for?" I scoot even further away from him.

"I'm absorbing the same magic Gaias have. Cato did it, though it took him years. I'm going to do it faster. Soon, there will be no need for a Gaia."

"Goodie for you, but I'll give up my powers just as willing as I gave myself up last night."

He shrugged his shoulders, "You can fight it but in the end I'll get my way – just like last night." He patted my bottom as a reminder as he scooted himself off the bed. "Now if you'll excuse me; I must go prep for surgery."

I fought back the bile that rose in my throat. He was right. Very little was going my way. I took a deep breath in and ran through a mental list of anything at all that could help me. On the top of the list were, of course, my powers. But would Shawn know if I were to use them, and could he block them? _No time like the present to find out._

Shawn had walked out of the room and disappeared from view. The penguin was still finishing off my meal, looking up every few minutes to squawk at me. Mustering any energy at all was difficult, much less conjuring enough for magic. But it was there, within me. It came in short bursts, sliding from my grasp too easily. After a few minutes of struggling to keep hold of something substantial, I sent it directly out toward the penguin. It went out slowly, and after crossing the circle of elements it sputtered, some of it disappearing in a flash and some petering out like a dying flame. When what was left of the energy reached the penguin, it was so light the penguin treated it as a fly, swatting it away with one black, shiny wing. Shawn, however, must have caught wind. He appeared almost immediately with narrowed eyes.

"Tsk, tsk, Princess. We'll have none of that." He stomped toward me. I wanted to shrink back into the bed away from him, but forced myself not to. I didn't want to give him the pleasure.

Before he even crossed the outer circle of fans, I sensed his energy stream, and it was powerful. Had I not already been lying down, it would've knocked me on my ass. As it was, it took the wind out of me, literally. An invisible, 400 pound weight sat on top of my chest, and I struggled to breathe. Shawn, with his icy blue eyes wider than normal, leaned over me and had a long grin on his face, "This will be your last and only warning – no powers." I tried to speak but couldn't. Shawn's face went blurry. Laughter rang in my ears as I blacked out.

* * *

I cracked my eyes open; the intruding light was painful. I moved to rub my face, but my hand stopped short. It was held down by rope, as was my other hand. I pulled harder, testing the bonds and I heard several shouts of caution in Spanish. My chest still hurt; sharp spasms bolted through my ribs every time I inhaled. I opened my eyes again, this time slower, allowing my pupils to adjust to the light. I was lying face down on a hard table. I lifted my head and saw the room and the canopy bed without its usual occupant – me. Looking around, there were several of the native men surrounding my table, keeping their distance. I wiggled a little more; more shouts. My feet were bound too, but there wasn't much I could do about that just yet. The rope around my wrists was hastily knotted; as if tied by someone anxious to be done with the task. The men were stepping toward me, then backing up and holding their hands in the air motioning for me to stop. I cursed at them under my breath and sped up my attempts. The same sense of helplessness and foreboding images of the previous night – only this time with an audience, added fuel to the fire.

Bowls of water and lit candles surrounded the table I was on. Two elements wouldn't mask me from the island completely but nothing reacted to my movements yet. I finally freed one hand and used it to release the other. I lifted myself to my knees and my lungs expanded, grateful to be returned to their full form. I had just long enough to draw in one full breath of air before two very strong hands pushed me back down on the table. A gruff voice in my ear sent chills down my spine, "And now to finish what we started."

Shawn gave commands in Spanish but no one obeyed. They looked scared and unsure, glancing at each other for encouragement. I squirmed violently, enough to send small rumbles throughout the ground around us. That didn't help Shawn's case; the men actually started backing away. Still holding me down, he barked more orders and what sounded like several threats at the men.

"Do unto others, Shawn."

"Shut up," he snarled. He took a deep breath, then spoke again in Spanish. This time his tone was cool and controlled. I heard the word _dinero_ mixed into his speech and a few of the men perked up. Four of them stepped forward. _Oh good_ , I thought, _one for each limb_. Which is exactly what they did. There was a short scuffle as the four vied for a spot at my legs. The two that lost cursed aloud then very hesitantly took a position by each of my arms. A promise of even more money from Shawn cajoled them into actually taking hold of my wrists and pinning them down. I wiggled my wrists a bit, testing their holds and letting them know I wasn't going to make it easy on them.

Shawn walked in front of me and withdrew his black-handled knife from a sheath on his belt. What did Micah call it?

"An athame." Shawn answered my unspoken question. "My sword of discretion, revealing the truth and killing all other options."

"That is very dungeons and dragons of you, Shawn."

He shrugged, "It works. I've marked every other Gaia using this knife and it never lies. Those unworthy of the title, such as you, find it to be very painful and can never truly heal from the wounds it inflicts. Those that hold the position of Gaia with true strength and control easily endure the cuts..." his last words filtered off into a whisper.

He shook himself out of some sort of self-evoked memory and moved my hair to reveal the old scar. The triangle within a circle still pained me even though the stitches had dissolved and had been replaced by slightly raised, pink scar tissue. He began to cut, and it was every bit as painful as I remembered. The knife pierced my skin, leaking its poison into my body.

Panic welled up within me and I looked around, desperate for a distraction. I couldn't give Shawn the satisfaction of knowing he was breaking me. I focused in on those closest to me, and considered the potential in the men that held down my wrists. Might as well make them earn their pay. I pulled back on my arms and almost slipped free of my captors. The two men frantically repositioned themselves, tightening their grips. They leaned back, ensuring the rest of their body was as far away from me as it could get. Shawn blocked most of my view of the man on my right, so I turned to study the one on my left.

I wriggled my left wrist again. The man shuddered, squeezing tighter. He tilted his head back, stretching it as far from me as he could get, but his eyes darted over, stealing glances of me. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. Shawn, partly preoccupied with his task, lectured me, "Stop teasing Juan."

Shawn was working inside the triangle now, occasionally crossing over the old scar tissue. Beads of sweat started to form on my own forehead and I half grunted, half whimpered during some of the deeper cuts. Every time I made a noise, the four men leaned even further away, stretching my limbs out until I thought they would rip me in half. Had it not been so painful, it might have been humorous.

"Done," Shawn announced suddenly. All six of us let out a sigh of relief. Shawn held up two mirrors; one behind my shoulder and one in front of me. I studied my painful new body art. It took a minute to discern the actual cuts from the pool of blood still leaking from them. The triangle inside the circle now contained a square inside of it, then another circle inside the square. On top of the outer most circle sat a crescent moon. It was tilted sideways and took on the characteristics of an evil smile, wide with lips parted and blood red.

"Ok, Picasso." I couldn't hide my grimace, "What is the significance?"

"The outer most circle and moon signify the Horned God, the male deity. Something taken far too much for granted in our industry. All of the shapes within the circle represent Alchemy. A bridge between matter and spirit. It brings about change in life."

"So now I am supposed to change into your idea of a Gaia?" I tried shaking off the men at my arms again but they continued to hold fast.

"The symbol is more about me, not about you, Princess." He bandaged the area. "Besides, my athame now holds your spirit."

I didn't question him further. The pain was too much. After he finished, he still hadn't given the order to release me. Instead, he sat down in front of me, producing a small lime from his pocket. With his athame, he made two small cuts in it. Then he held up a small piece of paper for me to see. My name was scribbled on it. He crumpled it up and stuffed it into the lime.

"Is it happy hour already?"

Shawn didn't a laugh. Without glancing up, he said, "I am souring your luck." He put the lime in a bowl and added salt and ashes. He placed the bowl in front of me, stood, and gave orders to have me moved back into the bed. As they lifted me off the table, I managed to kick over the bowl of lime and ashes.

_I can make my own luck_ , I thought. _Mother taught me how._

Once left alone in the bed, my thoughts drifted to my mother. Lilacs. She always smelled of lilacs - a clean, fresh floral aroma, sweet but not overpowering. Very persistent in the way it can permeate an entire room, or cling to you even after she was long gone.

In a way, she was very much like her lilacs, persistent in passing her knowledge of prayers and chants on to me, drilling me until I knew I could never forget them. One such chant came to mind. It was meant as a prayer to water, and you inserted your wishes into the prayer. That might just work. I slowly slid off the bed, holding my injured shoulder as still as possible. What I wouldn't do for one of Micah's slings.

I sat down cross-legged in front of one of the water bowls. I held my hands, palms down over the bowl of water. I closed my eyes and tried to center myself, imagining pure personal energy flowing from my center and out of my hands into the water. Keeping my voice barely above a whisper, I chanted, "I pray to the Water and the Goddess Spirit that governs it. Send this to Susan, wielder of the power of water." I paused, rolling my eyes at how cheesy that sounded but continued anyway. "And to Micah, Ardwyad of Gaia, that they may find me. Blessed Be."

After the prayer you are supposed to pour the water into the earth, preferably at the base of a tree, or down a drain, carrying your prayer through the earth to all things. I didn't dare try to step outside the circle of elements, but thought of another way to disperse the blessed water; by evaporation. I could sit there and let it evaporate on its own, but would the blessing wear off?

Taking the risk, I mustered the tiniest spark of energy and sent it carefully into the bowl. I could feel the bowl heat. I waited a few minutes, but Shawn never appeared. I repeated the chant and heating of the water a couple more times then slid back into bed, exhausted once again.

It would be necessary to exercise my powers as much as possible. I would need them to be at their strongest during my escape attempt, because I did not plan on returning to this prison of a bed.

Keeping up my physical strength was just as important. I looked around. There wasn't much I could do bedridden, but I had to try. I tightened my core muscles for ten seconds, then released, repeating the exercise three times before moving on to another set of muscles. By the time I had finished with every muscle group I could think of, I was sweating, and the sheets were soaked. It didn't matter, after the last of my exercises I had passed out within minutes, oblivious to physical discomforts.
Chapter 33

Field Trip

Several weeks had passed since I first came to La Isla Isabel. I had wakened that morning with tears staining my cheeks. It was becoming more and more difficult to function as an overwhelming sense of depression worked against me. I wiped my face dry, took a deep breath, and began my meditation exercises.

No matter what the exercises did for me, I had to appear weaker, both mentally and physically. Shawn expected the island to suck the life out of me, which it would, if I let it. My escape plan was still taking shape. It gave me purpose, a goal, and most of all something by which to maintain some sanity. Without it, I would have long since succumbed to Shawn's mind games.

Shawn would sometimes be present for several days, coaxing me into playing chess or cards. I always lost, maintaining my façade of weakness. During one evening of Scrabble, Shawn had me smiling, and almost laughing at his jokes. It was the first night I had fallen asleep feeling somewhat hopeful; feeling I had a good chance of surviving the ordeal. That same night, I awoke to him ripping the clothes off my body. I barely had time to blink the sleep from my eyes before he penetrated me with a candlestick. It was thin but very long – and probably did more damage inside than what Shawn could have done himself. After it was all over he didn't say a word – just walked out, leaving me fearing further attacks the rest of the night. I would have thought I dreamed the entire incident if it weren't for the insistent aches in my lower abdomen over the next several days.

I didn't see him for a full week after that, but that doesn't mean I had a reprieve. I was scared, only managing to get a few hours of sleep once I keeled over from pure exhaustion. A few days later, the men took turns dumping a bucket of cold water on my head every hour – or what I judged to be every hour, for an entire day and night. By dawn, I was soaked through, shivering, and sleep deprived. The only satisfaction I had was the sheer terror on each man's face when they approached with the bucket. No one wanted to come close to me; I had apparently worked up a reputation as a witch. If they only knew – the worst I could probably do was blubber uncontrollably on their shoulder.

Food was sporadic. Days went by without an ounce of food and very little water. Just as I thought I would surely die of starvation, a full plate of delicious smelling meats and breads was set down outside my room for the penguin to feast on, and for me to watch. Shawn wasn't there, but everything had to be happening on his orders. Even the men looked at the bird with jealousy.

"You are not making any friends here, pal," I said to the penguin.

He just squawked at me.

When Shawn finally did return to the room, he was sporting new clothes and an impressive collection of cigars. "You look haggard." He immediately had me laid out and proceeded to massage me. He puffed away on one of his new purchases, and for the first few minutes, my entire body tensed, expecting an incident similar to the candlestick, but with a lit cigar. His hands, however, were insistent, and they kneaded at my muscles, working out the kinks and forcing me to relax. The sweet smelling tobacco, and the gentle, methodical rubbing, combined with a need for physical compassion tricked my body into arousal. This was the last thing I needed.

Naked old people. Naked old people. Naked old people.

A cold shower wasn't possible; I had to come up with something to deter the inevitable.

I was too late, Shawn already knew. "Is it cold in here, or are you just happy to see me?"

I looked down to see my nipples had gone as hard as rocks, and were jutting through my thin t-shirt.

Crap. Dead kittens. Dead kittens. Dead kittens.

It wasn't working. His methodical rubbing moved down my torso and in between my legs, his soft hands gliding over me with a practiced touch.

Dirty toilets. Moldy bananas. Anything!

Waves of pleasure mounting inside my body overcame the sickening feeling in my gut. The disdain I felt for letting myself want more, or worse, want him, slowly dissipated.

I felt myself climaxing and just as I was about to peak, he stopped and leaned into me. "I control you. I say when you come, I say when you bleed, and I say when you die. Just remember that, Princess. Don't ever forget it."

I watched him walk away, bursting with desire to call him back and hating myself all the more for it. I was breathless, almost in pain from the need to finish. He disappeared into the thick forest. It took several minutes to gain some semblance of control over my traitorous body. I spent the rest of the night red with embarrassment and shame.

In the days after, I attempted to focus on the one small pleasure I was still afforded; my baths. I insisted on taking one every day and thankfully, Shawn obliged. No matter how much I bathed, the dirty feeling could not be scrubbed away. However, when completely submerged in the imported water, I could practice my mental exercises to the full extent of my power, work out details of my escape plan and perform my chanting rituals without Shawn detecting any of it. After blessing the entire trough of water, I was returned to my bed but I always watched the men dump the water in the forest. I figured something had to make its way to Susan and Micah. It just might take some time.

I focused on filling my body with elements that worked with me, not against me. The water helped but it wasn't enough. I increased the amount of candle leaves I ingested. It was a fine line to walk. After picking out leaf bits, I had to mold the candles back together with small flickers of heat. I was frantically attempting this one day, knowing Shawn to be due back soon. I finished reforming the last candle, examining it with a critical eye. It wasn't nearly as pretty as the rest, but it would pass as long as I kept it in an inconspicuous spot. I cleaned up my mess and got back in bed just before Shawn arrived back at the camp.

He threw new clothes and two pairs of handcuffs at me. "Get dressed. We are going on a field trip."

As I put one pair on my hands and the other on my ankles, I grumbled about having to bear the extra weight. It was hard enough to drag my own ass anywhere on this island; even clothes seemed to weigh ten times what they should. What I needed was one of Micah's miraculous apples.

A cough from the doorway drew our attention.

"Oh, good. You remember Juan, don't you, Princess?" Shawn asked.

It was my buddy, the wrist holder, from my surgery. I saluted him and he flinched at whatever bad mojo he thought I was sending his way. Shawn and I both laughed. I felt somewhat sorry for the guy; he was already breaking out in a nervous sweat.

"Juan, I think you and I are going to be great friends," I said.

He shook his head, indicating he didn't understand.

I spoke louder, annunciating each word. " _Muchachos_. Me. And. You." When I pointed to him he dodged my 'magic' once again.

I gave up. "Boo!" I shouted.

He actually ducked. I sighed.

No friends for Kaitlyn today.

"Ok. Let's go. I'll explain on the way." Shawn picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. "Don't move anything, for both our sakes. It is about a three mile hike and you won't have any elemental protection."

"What about the wildlife?" The penguin was right at Shawn's heels squawking at me as we walked away.

Shawn produced a pistol. "Got it covered."

"My hero."

He bounced, hard, sending his shoulder square into my gut.

I shut up. As we walked I peered through strands of hair hanging over my eyes. We were headed in the opposite direction of the surf. I hadn't realized before how comforted I was hearing it. The sound reminded me of Susan, like she was close by, helping me through this.

Juan walked behind us, but kept his distance. He was still sweating bullets. The guy was going to dehydrate soon if he didn't cut it out.

"Why is Juan here?" I asked.

"He's another Nerina – has powers with the water, though not nearly as strong as Susan's. In fact, his strength is almost non-existent compared to hers."

"So, why bother bringing him?"

"His ability is what I need. His strength doesn't matter – not as long as I have you."

"What do you mean?" I already knew. He was going to funnel energy straight from me into Juan, to give Juan the power to do whatever Shawn wanted.

"Come on, Kaitlyn. We all know how this works."

"I bet Juan doesn't."

"He'll find out soon enough."

Poor Juan.

But there wasn't anything I could do, short of enticing the island to react to me, killing us all. That was plan B.

A couple of hours and several bruised ribs later, I began to hear another, more gentle surf. Reaching the beach, Shawn dumped me unceremoniously in the sand.

I sat still, willing my blood to return to my body after being upside down for so long. I looked around, only moving my eyes. "Where are we exactly?"

"On the flank of Vulcan Ecuador. The only non-active volcano on the island. I'm trying to play it safe."

An ant crawled on my hand, tickling me. I flicked it away, focusing on the water. It felt different. Not Susan-like at all. It almost felt tainted. "What is wrong with the water?"

"Part of the volcano collapsed into the ocean here," he said. "Now down to business. This is a popular tourist spot. We can't risk being seen." He began issuing orders to Juan in Spanish. Juan grimaced more and more after every sentence, but didn't say a word. I took the opportunity to look around, hoping to spot a boatload of tourists at sea, or even a group hiking toward us. The hills behind us were barren. I turned back to my partners in crime and saw that at Shawn's encouragement, Juan had made his way knee-deep into the tide.

Once satisfied with Juan's position, Shawn came and knelt directly behind me. "Let's begin."

"Begin what?" I asked.

"We are going to simulate El Niño. Then, once nature starts to take its own course, we are going to stop it, so we know how to do so in the future."

"El Niño is a natural occurrence," I said. "Why would you want to stop it?"

"Because every five to seven years it costs some clients of mine a lot of money."

"This can't be a good idea."

He shrugged. "They pay the bills. Not my money, not my call."

"But it is your powers – and therefore your responsibility."

"Please, spare me the Spiderman speech." He put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing.

My eyes darted around for help, something, anything to distract him. Nothing. I silently cursed the Galapagos tourism industry.

A jolt of tainted energy filled my body. Shawn poured himself into me, leaving no space unexplored. I froze with dread. Once he was satisfied he had a grasp on every inch of me, I felt him retract, taking my energy with him. He was draining my power and I could almost see the stream when Shawn sent it out to Juan. The energy took Juan by surprise. Unprepared to receive it, he was pushed forward and taken under by a large wave.

"Whoops," Shawn laughed. "Maybe a little too much to start." Shawn reversed the flow and I felt some of it being returned to my body. Juan recovered his footing. The flow was reversed and once again, I felt power leaving me, only a little slower this time. Feeling sea-sick, I slumped over. Shawn lowered me the rest of the way to the sand. "Good. That is good, Princess. All you need to do is lie there."

Shawn alternately encouraged my obedience with soothing words and barked terse orders at Juan, his commands laced with Spanish profanity. My senses were slowly leaving. I tried moving my head from side to side in order to regain some semblance of control. I felt tickling on my hand again. I looked down; there must have been more than a dozen ants on it now. I twitched my arm. Ants flew off but they were almost immediately replaced by more.

"Shawn – "

"Shh, shh, shh."

The sounds of the world were slowly turning themselves off. I could no longer detect the surf and barely heard the wind picking up. The clouds in the sky moved in and grew much darker. Rain pelted my face, but I wasn't concerned. Not even the thunder that shook my body caused a reaction. It was all so far away from me – much too far to matter. Soon there would be nothing left anyway, just a shell of a human to rot and feed the surrounding vegetation. Maybe the ants could finish me off.

The ants. My legs now buzzed with their presence. They were gaining ground; I felt tickles on my stomach and neck.

"Shawn – ants!" Forming the two words was the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life.

"What?" Shawn glanced down at me. His eyes widened in shock. "Holy shit." He took out his pistol and aimed it at the sand next to me, where the insects were emerging from several holes in the beach.

What was he going to do? Shoot all of them? They were starting to bite. Tickles were replaced by small stinging sensations all over my body.

They were in a feeding frenzy, swarming Shawn now. He pulled the trigger, aiming at the sand around his feet. A few ants went flying, but the cleared space on the sand created by the bullet quickly filled in with tiny, scurrying black bodies.

I watched Shawn looming over me, his shirt whipping off his back. What was that look on his face? _Uncertainty? Yes. No. Fear!_ I felt the water, several degrees warmer than it should have been, lapping at my feet and enveloping the beach.

Shawn spun, called out to Juan, waving him in frantically. I doubt Juan could hear him.

Wind gusts blew in so hard Shawn was having trouble keeping his footing. He looked down at me as I tried to keep my mouth closed tight against the ants. I could see the wheels turning as he tried to calculate my fate. He looked out at sea. His eyes hopped around frantically. They did not stop to focus on where Juan should have been. Juan was gone. Shawn turned to me again and for a split second, I saw the grimace as he decided to leave me.

He turned to go just as an especially strong gust of wind nearly picked him up off the ground.

"Damn it!" The words formed on his lips though I didn't hear them. He bent down to throw me over his shoulder – purely a tactical move. My extra weight would anchor him.

_Silly Shawn. Can't finish what he started._ His experiment was a wash. One man MIA. Ants in pursuit. Storm gone amuck and I was in the middle of it all. I didn't care.

Chapter 34

Triumph

I had a vague awareness of floating. Scenes from the island came to me in flashes. The beach retreating in the distance, then ants dropping off my twitching arm. There was a short fall. My body hit the ground but was picked up again. The next thing I knew, I was floating into camp amidst hostile stares of the natives. Three left, two returned. One of their own missing. Who to blame? Not the boss. Blame the witch.

I floated into bed and the warm blankets surrounded me. I felt someone get in bed behind me. I didn't care. The damage had been done, nothing else could hurt me anymore. Instead of being groped, I was cradled. A protective arm snaked around my waist.

Shawn laid his head on mine and whispered something barely audible, " _I'm sorry, Sarah_."

I felt something unexpected – a tear dropping from his cheek and onto mine.

"Go away, Shawn." My voice cracked with exhaustion. He was more delusional than I was. He laid there for a second more, then obeyed and left the room without protest. Before I drifted off to sleep, one tiny glimmer of feeling sparked in me. Triumph.
Chapter 35

Fate of a Gaia

Warm, bright rays crossed my eyelids, enticing them to open. I wasn't sure how long I was out – very well could have been days. There was no evidence of the rogue storm. Just a clear, blue sky - another day in paradise. I was out maybe two days? I reached for a candle I kept hidden under the pillow and made two small scratches in the wax. Very prison-esque. All I needed now was for that damn penguin to carry around a ring of keys that were always just out of my reach. I counted the scratches in the candle and sighed. Almost two months now.

"Me, too." Shawn sympathized with my misery, observing from just inside the doorway. His ankle was wrapped in a brace.

"What happened?" I asked, pulling myself to a sitting position.

He shrugged, "Sprained my ankle carrying you back."

"Juan?" I asked. Maybe they found him, after the storm passed.

He looked down at his hands, "No sign of him."

I narrowed my eyes. "You killed him."

"No. The storm took him."

"The storm wasn't natural; it was man-made. _Shawn_ -made." I rubbed at some of the more severe ant bites on my arm.

"We created storm-like interference in the water, but the atmospheric storm took shape by itself. It mimicked the water." He came and sat down on the bed, hopping on one foot and wincing as his ankle jerked. He continued with his thought process. "It was like nature knew we were fucking with it. The planet got rid of the problem."

"What problem, you mean Juan?"

He nodded his head enthusiastically. "Yes. Don't you see? Earth is telling us what to do. Juan was one less. He was chosen by nature to make the ultimate sacrifice, thus bettering the planet for everyone else."

I raised my eyebrows. "One less?" That was a dangerous line of thinking. Where would it stop? Just how many are killed before the planet is deemed adequate for the remaining? It was a slippery slope that no one, especially someone as unstable as Shawn, had the right to pursue.

His was smiling now. "And this is only the beginning. Just wait until you see what I have in store for the world."

It was already too late, then. He had taken a leap and there was no return.

"Who is Sarah?" I asked.

The question caught me by surprise just as much as him. He rubbed the back of his neck, "That...is a long story."

Holding up the marked candlestick for effect, I said, "I've got nothing but time."

Any subject was better than his 'one less' way of thinking.

He took the candlestick from me and eased back onto the bed, twirling it in his fingertips. The lines on his face looked deeper than I remembered.

"Obviously you know you're a Gaia, which essentially means Mother Earth. What you don't know, is that there can be several Gaias at any point in time. And there is always one that contains considerable more potential. That is the one chosen to be a part of The Seven. But there can never be two Gaias that practice our ways at once. The eco-system couldn't handle it. For that, and many other reasons, Gaias are normally identified young, and are watched carefully. If they begin to demonstrate an understanding of their powers and learn how to wield them without being properly trained, or if they become too unstable, the Gaia is taken care of."

"You mean, killed?" I swallowed hard.

"Yes," Shawn answered without hesitation. "Because each Gaia that is with The Seven is trained quite extensively, they also need to be taken care of once their replacement arrives. The replacement is determined by Cato. A Gaia could be with us for a year, ten years, or more. We just wait around until a stronger Gaia is found and old enough to take over."

It suddenly dawned on me. "This is about another woman – one that I replaced."

"Sarah," Shawn said.

I looked at him sharply. "You loved her."

He didn't reply.

"Which is why you hate me," I concluded.

Shawn jumped off the bed. Balancing on his good leg, he spun around and pointed the candlestick down at me, "You didn't give us enough time!"

Although my immediate impulse was to yell back that none of this was my choice, I forced my voice to become soothing. "Shawn, when two people are in love, the ending always comes too soon, no matter how much time you are given."

"It doesn't matter now." Shawn's shoulders sank. "She is gone, and nothing can help that."

Shawn brushed aside any sentiment that might have surfaced by the time I had digested the information, and was staring at me with those cold, glazed-over eyes.

"What?"

"I just thought of something I'd like to share with you." Shawn looked at me a little longer. "But you wouldn't believe me unless you see it for yourself. Let's do a little experiment."

"Ugh. Haven't we learned our lesson about experiments?"

Undeterred, Shawn hopped back to the bed and sat. He turned toward me and crossed his legs Indian-style. He was still struggling to get his ankle brace to cooperate when he motioned for me to do the same. I did slowly, still feeling battered and bruised from our field trip.

He took my hands. His palms felt cold and clammy. "Do you remember the night Cato performed your saining?"

"Yes." My initiation into The Seven by the lake seemed so long ago; in some distant world.

"After I left you with Cato, I walked a ways into the woods and joined Micah. I want you to see what he was doing there. I am going to share my memory of that night with you. Just keep your mind open and as empty as possible."

"That shouldn't be a problem." I was getting good at that as of late.

"Okay, here we go. Close your eyes."

Several minutes must have passed, and nothing happened. Shawn repeated his last phrase many times. _Here we go. Close your eyes_. His voice was rhythmic and soothing, and my mind became foggy. Slowly, I started to see images through the fog, but the more I tried to focus on the images, the more indistinguishable they became.

"Don't focus. Just allow my memories to come to you."

I followed his instructions and the images were suddenly identifiable. I saw flashes of a forest and a lake. I saw myself and Cato. I relaxed a little more, and pieces of the puzzle slowly started to meld together. I saw myself once again and an uncontrollable feeling of hatred washed through me. It was so strong I shivered. Shawn grasped my hands tighter. I realized I hadn't just assumed his sight, I was also channeling his emotions. My throat constricted and my heart started to beat faster.

The memory progressed. Shawn was backing away from me and into the forest. When he had disappeared into the tree line—

Shawn interrupted sharply, "Don't drag your own memories into this; it won't give you a clear enough picture."

I cleared my throat and my mind once again. We were walking through the forest now, just outside the clearing, following the lake around to the side opposite Cato and me.

"What are you doing here?" The voice both echoed and sounded muddled, like it was underwater, but it was unmistakably Micah.

Shawn shifted his view from across the lake upwards and into the trees. Micah was perched on a branch about 15 feet off the ground. The unanswered question hung in the air while there was a brief scramble of hands, feet, and tree branches. Shawn settled himself directly next to Micah in the tree. The branch sagged under their combined weight.

"Just making sure you're prepared." Shawn looked at Micah's hands which cradled a small rifle. A night scope was attached to it.

"Nothing will need to be done," Micah snapped. "She'll do the right thing."

Locking eyes with Micah, we stared each other down. My heart didn't skip a beat as it usually did when looking at Micah. Instead I felt frustrated, a sense of unfulfilled expectations between us; they were Shawn's feelings toward Micah.

Shawn took the rifle from Micah. "The scope isn't even on."

He flipped it on, and aimed it directly at my face across the lake. I could see my lips moving to the words _blue pill, red pill_. I felt the chill of the trigger and willed my forefinger to relax, lessening the squeeze Shawn had on it. Shawn cleared his throat in the real world, reminding me not to interrupt. In the memory Shawn lowered the rifle, flicked off the safety, and handed it back to Micah.

"Just in case..." Shawn reached down and removed a large pistol from a holster on the back of his belt.

Micah tensed, gearing up for an argument but Shawn was quick to distract him.

"Here it is, moment of truth." Shawn gestured to Cato and me across the lake. I was selecting a hand. From a distance, it was difficult to tell exactly what was happening, but the exaggerated motion of me throwing the key and then the box into the lake alerted Shawn and Micah to my choice. Now I understood. It wasn't just a symbolic act, but a signal to my would-be assassins.

Micah released a breath, and Shawn went through the steps of decompressing after an intense moment. He felt disappointed.

Shawn let go of my hands and the room on the island rushed forward to meet me.

Shawn watched me with a blank expression, only speaking when I didn't. "His job was to execute you if you chose to walk away. My job was to make sure he did his job."

"He wouldn't have..." I shook my head.

"Are you sure about that?" Shawn smirked. "I think you realize what he is capable of."

"But I'm different to him." I still shook my head, but was losing conviction.

"Micah has been doing this a long time, and he does his job well. Don't take for granted the power and purpose of The Seven."

"I thought you weren't supposed to be without a Gaia; that wouldn't have happened until another came along."

"Even then, Cato thought you were too dangerous. He didn't mind breaking the cycle for the safety of the Chakra."

It was a struggle not to believe Shawn, and images of myself through the scope of a high powered rifle were not helping. "So, why did you bring me here?"

Shawn took a deep breath and turned to look at me. "Micah is my brother."

"Funny, I fail to see the family resemblance," I retorted.

Shawn smiled. "I know, there is no resemblance. Susan, Micah, and I were all adopted by Cato. Micah and Susan are natural brother and sister."

I let this new revelation sink in.

Shawn went on, "Our mothers were Gaias that had to be eliminated by The Seven. When that happened, Cato took us in. We grew up together."

"The Seven killed your mother?" I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

He shrugged, "So I've been told. Happened when I was still a baby. I don't remember her."

I watched him fiddle with the blanket. "So is everybody involved somehow related?"

"Not everybody, but the ability to do what we do runs in our blood. It is possible we could all be traced back to the same lineage."

"So we could be related. I could have been screwed by my cousin!" I inched away. "How do you know you weren't related to Sarah?"

He slapped me across the face, hard. "You don't have the right to talk about Sarah! Ever!"

I nursed my cheek.

He took a deep breath. His mood swings would be the death of me. Perhaps literally. "Besides, we are spread out so far we wouldn't even be labeled on the same family tree anymore."

"Whatever." I shook my head. "When I get out of here I don't want anything to do with this inbred fiasco. You can find yourself another Gaia."

"Won't need another one."

My hand stilled on my cheek. "What do you mean?"

"I brought you here to figure out how to harness your powers. If I can do that, there'll be no need for a Gaia. All Yang, no Yin, no drama."

"Cato would never agree to this."

Shawn shot me a sideways glance. "He doesn't. Cato is an old, stubborn fool. He is set in his ways. He doesn't understand that The Seven needs to evolve just as the world does. I have been training my own people, ever since Sarah passed, so we can take over The Seven and run it the right way. Cato doesn't fit into the picture and neither do you, my dear."

"And Micah?"

"Micah will come around. We make a good team."

I swung my legs around to the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Shawn lay down on the bed, wholly unconcerned.

"I'm out of here. You're crazy if you think I'm going to wait around for you to kill me."

Propping a pillow up under his head, Shawn said, "The closest village is about 70 miles away. Need a map?"

"No, I don't _need a map_. I'm perfectly capable of getting out of here on my own." I walked over to the dirt piles and began digging through them.

"Oh, you mean the leaves you've been eating? That may help a little but won't get you very far."

I stopped for a split second in surprise.

He shrugged, "At least your little craft project kept you busy."

I began digging again and found what I was looking for. "The candles didn't keep me nearly as busy as these babies." I pulled my hands out of the pile, showing him two very battered-looking shoes. I set them down on the ground and stepped into them.

Shawn still had a smile on his face, but his eyebrows furrowed. "What—?"

"But the thing that consumed most of my time, since satisfying your sexual urges never took very long, was this." I held up a knee length jacket, shaking off the dirt that concealed it for so long. Shawn shot up and I shrugged the jacket on. The shoes and jacket were both lined, inside and out with leaves I had picked out of the candles and glued on by a concoction of wax and dirt. I stepped backward over the dirt piles, facing Shawn. "The shoes and jacket were left lying around the camp. I had to make some necessary adjustments, but I might be on to a new trend here, don't you think?"

I made it to the bowls of water, catching my image in one of the glass doors. "Although I might be missing something." I bent down, picked two bowls up, and dumped the water over my head. Shawn looked alarmed now. I took my first steps outside of the circle.

As I was exiting the room, I looked back. Shawn was attempting to get off the bed, but his ankle brace was tangled up in the blankets. I took a few more steps outside, catching the attention of the natives. They quickly backed away, giving me my space. The island didn't seem to react to my movements.

"It's working!" My face lit up at my accomplishment, but my smile soon faded when I realized I didn't know what to do next.

"That is enough. Take off that jacket and get back in here." Shawn finally released his foot from the clutches of the blankets, and shouted orders in Spanish to the men. None of them moved.

I looked around, taking in the scenery. I glanced back at my prison of a room. Shawn started hopping toward me. I needed to get moving. But which way? Something small flitted past my nose and started making circles around my head. I swatted at it. Seeing me distracted, a couple of men started toward me. I raised my hands in front of me. "Stop!"

The island reacted this time, and I smiled. "Hammer time."

Deep rumbling overtook the island. The ground shook and knocked the two men on their butts. That was enough to unnerve the rest of the group. They took off running in any direction that was away from me. Shawn still hopped toward me, now shouting Spanish obscenities.

The insect circling my head landed square on my nose, discharging a small shock of static electricity. I stopped, looked at it cross-eyed, and realized it was a butterfly. Just as suddenly as it had landed, it took off toward the sound of the waves breaking.

"Well, you've managed to scare off my entire crew," Shawn grumbled, coming up behind me. "Come on." He grabbed my upper arm, pulling at it sharply.

I twisted it away, making a large circle with my entire arm, and the wind picked up slightly. "I've decided to leave now. You can let me go, or I will tear this island apart, and you and I will be caught in the middle."

Shawn grabbed my throat and pulled me into him. "You get an 'A' for creativity. But make no mistake, my strength still exceeds yours, and your little walkabout ends, now."

I met his eyes, but didn't fight his hold. "No."

He eyes narrowed. "No?"

"No!" I pushed him square in the chest.

He didn't let go of my throat but his mouth opened, forming a small circle, like he was surprised. He squeezed tighter.

I closed my eyes and conjured images of a tornado. I thought of trees being ripped up by their roots and thrown through the air. I imagined the deafening sound, then sent it all out with a short burst of energy on the same wavelength I use to communicate with Micah. Shawn would not be able to block it. The wind around us picked up. It was no tornado, but it was a start.

I moved the tornado image to the back of my mind, and conjured new images of an earthquake. I imagined the ground shaking and rolling beneath our feet, the earth ripping apart. The island lurched in response.

"What are you doing?!" Shawn yelled above the sound of the wind. The moving ground forced him to take a few steps back to catch his footing, but my feet remained solid on the ground. He had to let go of my throat. I opened my eyes and smiled.

Shawn finally caught on and I felt him give a mental push back. But my momentum was too strong. I barreled through his block easily. I moved the earthquake to another part of my mind. Both natural disasters were picking up momentum on the island and were now self-sustaining. I don't think I could have stopped them if I tried. Next, I thought of the phosphorous and sulphate I searched for with the team at the bottom of the ocean floor in Spain. Conjuring oxygen as fuel, I fused the three reactive compounds together with energy – and there was a huge explosion off in the distance. We both looked toward the rising smoke.

"You've just erupted the volcano," Shawn shouted.

Pride was overtaken by panic.

"You stupid bitch! We're on a freaking island!"

"I didn't mean to—"

"I didn't mean to," Shawn mimicked me in a high-pitched voice. He hobbled toward me, then stopped dead in his tracks. "What is that?"

I followed his gaze but saw nothing. "What?"

"That energy, it's like sparks." Shawn leaned away, cautiously. "You know what? I'm not gonna even bother killing you. The island will do it for me. I'll come back and dig your burned little ass out of the lava. I'll just have to find a way to extract elemental powers from a corpse." He turned, hopping inland, away from the shore.

I turned to follow the now long gone butterfly. Although the images of fire, tornados, and earthquakes had left my mind, the island continued to roar and rumble. It was reacting to me, wanted to target me but didn't know where I was. Lava was slow-moving, right? I tried to convince myself but picked up my pace. My outfit worked well to mask my presence from the island, but I hadn't taken into account the physical drain the island still had on me. As I made my way through thick shrubs, my legs felt like 40-pound weights. Each step was increasingly more difficult. My breathing hard, I started doubting whether I could make it to the shore. Wind lashed at my face and soon the ash that had spewed out from the volcano reached me, burning my throat and lungs. Pushing through a large patch of shrubs, the shore came into view. My vision was blurred from fatigue and ash. I couldn't tell if there were any boats or not. My best bet was to get as close to the water as possible and hope someone saw me. I took a few more steps and tripped over something. I hit hard stone instead of sand.

_Oh, yeah_. _Rocky shore_.

I didn't have the strength to push myself back to my feet. I started to crawl over the rocks, half-dragging, half-rolling myself to the sound of the waves. Eventually, a spray of icy-cold salt water greeted me. I collapsed in triumph.
Chapter 36

Dirty Work

I don't know how much time went by before I heard the clunk of boots jumping from rock to rock, toward me. I didn't bother moving – I was too tired to do anything else but lay there, hoping Shawn would take mercy on me. The boots took one last jump and landed hard next to me. They were wet and dirty. My eyes turned upward, squinting into the sun. The light hurt. And the man's face was a dark shadow.

I gave up and looked away. "Why such dirty boots?" I whispered, recalling a conversation had during one of the happier times of my life.

The shadowy man kneeled beside me, blocking the sun with his head.

"Because saving the girl is dirty work."

My eyes slid back. "Micah?"

"Come, on. Let's get you out of here." He began putting his arms under me and lifted me off my bed of rocks.

"Oh, no. You can't just come trotting in here like some hero. I'm saving myself this time. Go away!"

"And let me just say you were doing a fine job lying there on your back."

"I'll lay you on your back!" I threatened as he effortlessly hopped the boulders, with me in his arms.

"Are you drunk or something?"

"No," I slurred, oblivious to my current state. "I'm at a fashion show."

Everything faded away but the beautiful green eyes looking down on me.
Chapter 37

Water of Wonder

Water, Waters of Life

Gentle Rain, Soft Mist, and Tidal Pools

Hot Beating Blood - Cool Ocean Deep

Water of Wonder, Mystery of our Hearts

"Water of wonder, mystery of our hearts. Water of wonder, mystery of our hearts." The soft hum of words brought me out of my sleep. A familiar face came into view.

"Micah?"

The blurred face kept on chanting. I squinted and forced my eyes to clear. It wasn't Micah, it was Susan.

She stopped chanting and smiled at me, "Sorry if I woke you. Just trying something that always works for me. It calms me more than anything. And you didn't look like you were doing too well." She motioned to our hands. One of mind held hers. It was squeezing so tight her hand had turned white. I loosened my grip, but didn't release her.

"Please don't let go." I searched her face, pleading with her. I didn't want this to be a dream. I was going to hold on for all it was worth. Any minute it could all slip away and I would be back on the island, in Shawn's prison.

"I'm not going anywhere." Susan stroked my hair. "You're safe now, Kaitlyn."

I did my best to smile back at her but my lips cracked in protest. The rest of the room began to come into view. I was in a hospital; not just one of the medical rooms at the Chakra, but a real hospital. I cocked my ear, and heard a machine beeping with my heart rate by my bed, nurses chattering about the cafeteria food in the hall, the squeaky wheels of a gurney being pushed past my door. _Definitely a hospital_. "Where's Micah?"

"He is getting some rest at the hotel. He has been by your side for two days straight." Susan continued to stroke my hair.

I couldn't move much. There were wires hooked to me, and tubes going into many places there just shouldn't be tubes.

"You guys found me?" It was a half-question, half-statement.

"We heard your calls," Susan said, "or sensed them, anyway. Each of us might have ignored them if we hadn't both felt it. You were smart to call for us both. Something, by the way, that you will have to show me how to do... when you are feeling better of course. We're in San Diego. We had to bring you here. You were so dehydrated, and the cuts on your shoulder were infected. Everything's being taken care of."

I shook my head as best I could. "You don't understand, Shawn—"

"We know. And he will be dealt with. But for now you need to just concentrate on getting better. Kaitlyn, I'm going to get you a bottle of water – over there, see?" She gestured across the room to a table. "I need to let go of your hand, but just for a moment."

I nodded, but only squeezed tighter, still afraid to lose this new reality. She forced her hand out of mine, looking to make sure I wouldn't have a panic attack. Satisfied I wouldn't, Susan walked across the room to get the bottle and was back before I could track her with my eyes. She helped me sit up to sip the water.

"Kaitlyn, if you don't mind me asking, when was the last time you had your period?"

The question caused me to choke on the water. "I honestly don't know." I cleared my throat, "Before I was even brought to the Chakra, I guess. It tends to disappear when I'm under stress."

She hesitated.

"What?" I asked.

"I think you're pregnant."

"What?"

"Let me rephrase that. I _know_ you are pregnant. I can sense the amniotic fluid in your belly. It is water after all." She laid her hand over my stomach as I watched, shocked. "All life comes from water."

I tried to digest the information, working my jaw a few times before I could form words. "Can you tell how far along I am?"

She laughed. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, but I'm not that good."

I didn't share in her laughter.

She tried to put on a more serious face. "Did you and Micah...?"

I nodded my head yes before she could finish.

She cleared her throat and asked the tougher question, "Did Shawn...?"

I nodded my head again, slower this time.

"I see," she said.

I released a shaky breath. "Does Micah know?"

"No," Susan said. "No one else knows, I wanted to discuss it with you first."

"Okay – let's keep it that way, for now. Please."

Susan nodded with a tight smile.

I had a lot of thinking to do.

A lot of thinking and a lot of healing.

After a while, Susan convinced me to let her go. She stepped out to inform the nurses that I was awake. From my bedside phone, she called to let Micah, Alex, and Cato know too. They were all now on their way from the hotel.

I looked out the window of my hospital room to see the setting sun. It was the same sunset that I saw numerous times from my island prison. It calmed me somehow, now as it did then, even with the knowledge of new life growing inside of me. I laid my hand over my own belly, and almost felt the warmth inside. I let the warmth spread, at first cautiously, then hastily, up to my heart. I repeated Susan's words to myself, "All life comes from water."

Excerpt from Air, Book 2 of the Akasha Series:

There was no one in sight, and no landmarks. Just endless trees. My stomach twisted. I knew Shawn. Shawn didn't give up easily. The longer I looked for Micah and the others, the longer I gave Shawn time to look for me. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the sounds around me. Besides my labored breathing, I heard nothing. Not even birds chirping. No twigs cracking under the weight of a human body. No wisp of leaves brushed by an arm. I tensed, sensing someone. Not ten or twenty feet away, but right in front of me.

I should've known he was able to do that. Even I had underestimated Shawn – I should have kept running. Sighing at another inevitable fight, I lashed out, hitting him in the nose before even opening my eyes. A small trickle of blood ran down his face. My other fist, even with open eyes, wasn't so successful; he caught it in mid-punch, and twisted. I was forced to face away from him. He kept a tight grip on my wrist, locking my arm behind my back. I kicked my leg back, aiming for his stomach, a futile move so close to him.

Knocking my leg down, he pulled me close, wrapping his free arm around my body and holding the knife up to my face. The chill crept out of his body into mine. My marked shoulder stung, stronger now, as if it had been freshly cut. The only thing that kept me from shivering was his familiar body against mine. As much as I detested him, at least I knew him. I survived our last encounter. I could survive this. I closed my eyes and began to reach out for the energy of the forest. Shawn would be able to block it, but I might have a chance if I did it quickly.

"Let her go, Shawn."

The booming voice interrupted my concentration. My eyes flew open.

Micah appeared from nowhere, just as Shawn did, several yards in front of us.

Shawn ignored Micah and put his lips to my ear. "Come with me." The whisper was as much a demand as a plea. I winced. He gripped me tighter.

I closed my eyes tight and forced a quiet, "No. I have better plans."

His breath turned hot with anger.

I felt a sharp pain below my left eye where the knife rest.

He tried again, more forceful this time, "Come with me. I don't have to give you a choice."

Warm blood trickled down my cheek.

Micah saw it too and took a few steps forward, body tense.

Shawn only held me tighter, forcing my back to arch. It was in that precarious moment, with my slightly bulging belly forced out even more, that the wind blew. It circled our bodies and tousled our clothes. After playing for a few seconds, mixing the scents of the forest together with our own, it dipped towards my feet then up again. My loose shirt was forced up, exposing a truth kept hidden until now.

Micah's eyes traveled down. They went blank, staring for a moment, and then his mouth dropped open. I swallowed. Not necessarily a reaction you hoped for from a father. Then again, I wasn't positive he was the father. Shawn followed Micah's gaze down my torso with his hand. He couldn't see my rounded belly from his angle behind me, but he felt it. His hand was too cold on my exposed skin, and I had an immediate need to protect the life inside me. Keeping my movements slow and controlled, I placed my hand over Shawn's and pried it loose. I stepped away from his grip and turned to face the both of them.

It didn't take long for them to find their voices.

"You're pregnant?!" they exclaimed in unison.

I didn't answer. I'd have thought that fact was fairly obvious by now. Instead, I looked from one to the other, trying to read their faces. No joy from either, but then again, no despair. No fear, no panic. Just shock.

Let them stew in their shock.

I waved them off and turned away, whispering, "Better plans."

**'Air, Book Two of the Akasha Series' is now available! Purchase 'Air'** here **.**

Reviews for Air:

" _If Water was amazing, Air pushed the boundaries of epic._ " By Dreamland, A Teenage Fantasy

" _I really thought I had the plot figured out but BAM there's a twist. I fell in love with a character that I despised in the first novel_." By Alexia's Chronicles

" _This is the talent of Terra. She can bring the characters to life, living and breathing right before us_." By Ritesh Kala's Book Reviews
About the Author

Terra is author of the eco-fantasy novels in the Akasha Series. 'Water', 'Air', 'Fire' and 'Earth' are self-published. Terra was born and raised in Colorado but has since lived in California, Texas, Utah, North Carolina, and Virginia. Terra has served a 5½ year enlistment in the Marine Corp, has earned her bachelor's and master's degree and presently runs the language services division of a small business.

Terra lives in a suburb of Washington, DC with her husband of 14 years and three children.

Connect with Terra:

E-mail: terra.harmony11@gmail.com

Facebook: <http://facebook.com/terraharmony>

Blog: http://harmonylit.wordpress.com

Twitter: <https://twitter.com/#!/harmonygirlit>

Discover other titles by Terra:

The Kindred Curse Anthology **  
**

A disease passed to each new generation of descendants attracts vampires. Pieces of family history and the secrets to survival are lost as the lineage progresses. The Kindred Curse Anthology prequels lead you back in time, revealing the root of a dynasty's plight and a beginning that ultimately transcends the family's end.
