Witch in Hiding (#1 in the Witches Trilogy) (EDITING)

Eleven: Sunny With A Chance Of Downpour

Rae's wearing a grey denim jacket today, over a pale blue shirt, typically conservative. She doesn't take off her jacket when she comes into my room, despite the fact that it must be sweltering. "You sure you don't have anywhere else to be?" Rae asks curiously as she shuts the door. She makes little rainclouds dance around her. "I thought I saw Jess and the others going to the cinema."

"I'm sure."

Rae cocks her head. "You guys okay?"

"Fine. Minor argument." It's been two days. We're still going for lunch together and all, but the tension is practically tangible.

"Okay." Rae doesn't press. "So you've got the whole telekinesis thing down?"

Almost despite myself, I split into a grin. "Yeah I do."

She rolls her eyes, but grins. "Okay. So then we can move on to the harder stuff."

"Yes."

"Calm down." She waves and the rainclouds go away. "I kind of need to go into the theory first."

"So, you know about the Nadran Classification of Magical Functions."

Ah, yes. "Werewolf, vampire, witch."

She looks kinda pained, like if you told a hardcore One D fan all the guys sound the same (Van). "Well, that's an oversimplified version, but okay." She gets out a mini whiteboard and draws a tree with a few precise strokes. In the flowers, she draws a werewolf. "So, yeah. The first type of magic is called..." She trails off expectantly.

"Uh..."

"Intrinsic," she sighs, although amused. "Think fairy wings, mermaid tails, unicorn horns. They do give magical abilities, but they're as part of them as your hair or eyes are. These are unique only to the species, and they're pretty limited—they can't be developed further or differentiate, like the flowers—unless they mutate, but that's a different story." She taps her drawing. "Werewolves' strength, speed and senses are generally considered innate—you can't use these."

Next she draws a vampire at the base of a big branch. "Second type is...?"

Her notes come back to me. "Extrinsic!"

She looks surprised. "Not bad."

"I did read your notes." And, you know, I know the opposite of 'intrinsic'.

"Yeah. Extrinsic powers. You can use these. They're abilities not tied to physical traits, so they're not as limited—they can develop slightly differently, branch out, in a sense." She indicates the branch, splitting into smaller ones. "The foundation is the same though, so each species is usually characteristic of one or two powers, like vampires usually have some form of psychic ability, and nature spirits have nature powers."

"Lastly, you." She draws a stickman at the roots.

"Hey."

"What? People are harder to draw. Anyway, genesitic magic. Your magic can develop in an unlimited number of ways. Besides the flowers, I mean. But genesis magic usually has a couple branches that are stronger than the others—we call them primary powers. I'm generally considered genesitic, but I suppose my, uh, tree is a lot smaller than yours. My primary power is lightning. Storms. I can do snow and wind and all that, but not as well as storms."

Thirteen years of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and a dash of Barbie movies unfold in my head. Different creatures, different powers. My imagination runs away with me.

"So my question is," Rae continues, "what's your primary power?"

"Fireworks?"

She scrunches up her nose. "Fireworks?"

"Kidding," I say hastily. "I don't know. I've only done telekinesis, and caused some chaos as a kid by accident."

"That's normal." Rae nods. "Too much buildup. Although we could look into those events," she says thoughtfully, "might give a hint. Spill."

I tell her, about the shelf, about the dog, about the Dora fireworks. She doubles over laughing, which sets me off, until we're both a wreck howling about nothing. "Oh my god," she says, wiping tears from her eyes. She digs out her sketchbook and starts drawing—in a moment she's got a goofy comic version of me in the chicken car. "I am sure that was a dream. But I wish it wasn't. Ha!"

When we've both calmed down, Rae starts thinking through. "The bookshelf—either telekinesis or superstrength, but strength is more intrinsic, so I'm guessing telekinesis. The dog—animal whispering is totally normal, a type of psychic power."

"Dora?" I ask, which sets her off again.

"Fire?" She guesses, gasping.

"Can you teach me?"

"Firestorms—" she takes a deep breath. "Firestorms aren't my specialty." She wiggles her fingers and after a moment a small spout of whirling fire forms. "But you should start with a basic element. Like wind is easier than a cyclone because it doesn't need so much manipulation." She spreads her palm and a perfect snowflake crystallises on her skin. "Snow and ice are harder than they look to control," she continues. "Because it's a derivative of an element. A secondary state, so to speak. You get water and you change its form. Rain is usually the easiest, because it's a single primary element. Easier to control than ice, although usually less effective." She crumples the snowflake into white powder, which melts into little water droplets.

"Water. Earth. Fire. Air." I stand up theatrically. "Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony—"

"—then, everything changed when the fire nation attacked!" Rae thrusts her hand forward; fire whooshes past me and dissipates in a spectacular wave.

I gape at her. "Can you teach me that?"

"Let's start with water. Less likely to destroy something." Water pools in Rae's palm, swirling like a lazy whirlpool. "How does the weather forecast for rain look?"

*

"Hey, Vin." Mel sounds resigned. "You wanna do the slides or the script?"

"I thought you were still out?"

"It started raining, so we went home."

Oops. I glance out the window, which is as much motion as my exhausted body is willing to do. Rae managed to get me to start a downpour, after many failed attempts and an accidental flooding of my mom's hydrangeas, but I was too tired to try stopping it and she said her own garden was due for watering. "I'll do the slides." I wonder if the rain will stop by itself, like a natural rainfall. I should've asked Rae. Maybe Rae will stop it, once her garden is sufficiently watered.

Mel pauses. "Jess says you're training with someone else."

Great. I should've expected this. I almost consider hanging up on her, but for the sake of our friendship I don't. "Well, yeah. My mom brought someone in."

Mel is quiet, and I get the feeling she never really wanted to talk about it in the first place, but the elephant has been stomping on us the past few days. "Okay. We're going for dinner tomorrow, you coming?"

I hesitate. Rae was going to show me wind. "Sorry. I've got—"

"Training," Mel finishes. "It's fine."

She hangs up.