Page 5 of Rescued By the Great Grim

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I prefer a non-gender conforming deep bow.

Any rich and powerful hotties at this thing?

I wish.

And I really do.

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

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

Gah. The little one is awake. Gotta go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAPTER 5 (HAILEY)

The next day, I find myself on a boat with Miriam and Johnny in the middle of Sawtooth Lake. This body of water is much smaller than Sockeye Lake and at an altitude two-thousand feet higher. We drove four-wheel ATVs up narrow trails to get to the lake. I have no idea how they got the boat up here, but it was already tied up to a small dock when we got here. Maybe it lives her year around.

Miriam and Johnny are unusually quiet today, but I don’t mind the silence.

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