"Jon wants to know what you'd like to start out with. Air, fire, water, or earth," Thomas said to me.

That was an odd question. "What do you mean, start out with?"

"It's a bit complicated," he laughed. "Just pick one."

"Fire!" Charlie said at the same time Dani said, "Water!"

I considered choosing air or earth so that neither of them felt bad, but I thought about how Charlie had just made some flames appear. An absurd, but maybe not that impossible, image of me with a wand conjuring fire popped into my head. It did, out of the choices, seem like the coolest.

"Fire?"

"Wait, which did she pick?" Charlie said to Dani. "Did she say fire? ‘Cause I'm pretty sure she —" Dani shoved him off of the bed and onto the floor. "Ouch." He pinched Dani's calf right below his shorts.

"Ow! I hate when you do that!"

"Fire it is," Thomas said, ignoring them. "I'm going to cut out. You're in 4098, right? I'll call you when I'm back on board after tomorrow's trip."

He started out of the room, and TS got up. "I'm going with him. Wanna clear out of our room?"

Dani and Charlie laughed. The three of us stood too.

"I have to go find Mariana and fill her in," Dani said.

After we all dispersed, I found myself back out on deck. A witch. Magic. My thoughts were whirling. I couldn't believe it, and yet, I had to. They had shown me proof. All of the little strange things they did made sense now. I still hadn't learned how Dani had gotten back on the ship, and I had to smile. I knew now that they'd answer anything I had to ask. I was one of them: a magic, as they said. It was a strange thought.

I was disappointed the next day when none of them were on my trip with me. Trekking through the rainforest and visiting a Panamanian Indian village was really neat, but my mind was elsewhere the entire time. When I got back on the ship, I stayed put in my room, waiting for Thomas to call. Laurie got back from her trip, and we traded stories and showed off our souvenirs. At last, the phone rang. I headed down to Thomas' room and saw a pile of sticks on one bed.

"Here we are," he said with a grin. "One of these will be your wand."

I looked at the sticks, feeling rather disappointed. I'd been picturing a carved, polished wand. Some of these still had bark on them, and most were bent or had joints where other branches had been attached.

Thomas laughed at the look on my face. "Don't worry," he said. "They'll get better. Have a seat."

I sat down in a chair at the desk, and he sat on the other bed. "First, I need you to forget whatever you've read or seen in movies. Magic, real magic, is different. It's like a muscle. You need to work it, keep it in good shape, stretch it. You can't just see someone like Jon and do the same things he can. That takes lots and lots of time and practice. Just like you couldn't throw a football as far as Phil Simms can without practice. Make sense?" I nodded, and he hesitated. "I'm really not sure how much, or how well, I can teach you, but it's imperative you start using magic as soon as possible."

"Why?"

"Like I said, magic is similar to a muscle. If you never use it, eventually it will get weaker. You go long enough, and it starts to fade. You're what... nineteen?"

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"Twenty-one," I said indignantly.

"Wow, you're lucky. It’s not exactly something people are willing to volunteer in studies for, so we don’t know much, but from what I hear most witches and wizards are out of luck once they hit twenty. You’re incredibly lucky it hasn’t faded yet. You can never get it back once it does."

Even though it had been less than twenty-four hours since I had found out magic existed, that thought sent a chill through me. "What do I do?"

He laughed. "Use magic. Once you start using it, it won't fade. Which, as I said, is why we're doing it as soon as possible." He gestured to the sticks. "Now, think of your wand as an extension of you. It's a muscle too, same as your magic. You can't pick it up and cast powerful spells, it has to be trained and stretched just like your ability. It will start to tailor itself to you. The better you get, the better your wand will get. You could take another witch's wand and use it about as well as her arm if you chopped that off."

"Why did I have to choose fire?" I asked.

"Oh, right," Thomas said. "Just getting to that. This isn't wave your wand and say ‘hocus pocus’ and make stuff happen magic. All magic is derived from different elements. Fire, being a great example. It's not just flames and sparks, it's also a source of light, and heat, and sometimes destruction. It represents a few other things too. All of which can be produced with fire magic. The more complex you get, the harder the magic is. Same with the stronger you get. Right now, you can probably make a couple of sparks. In a few years you'll probably be able to start a nice, big campfire with a flick of your wand. It's easiest to learn magic by starting with one element and getting confident in the basics. Still following?"

"Yeah, I think so," I said.

"Every type of wood is different. Some react better with fire, some with metal. Different woods work better for different people. Some woods are easier for beginners. It's kind of a complex science," he laughed. "What we've got here are a variety of woods, all from trees cultivated specifically with the intent of making wands for fire magic."

"Am I stuck using fire magic, then?" I asked.

"No, no. We're just going to do that to start. As you get better, you can upgrade to a wand that's good for more than just fire or forget fire altogether. Most witches and wizards find different types of magic they like to use and tailor their wands for those. Jon has like, a dozen different woods worked into his wand."

"Okay," I said. "So, how do I pick one?"

"Well," Thomas sighed, "that's why we have so many. Ideally, you'd have some idea of where to start. A lot of people are good with the same woods as their parents. My dad liked oak for a base, and my mom loved chestnut and walnut. When my magic first emerged, I tried all three. Walnut ended up being my favorite..." He paused, and something in his voice made my stomach clench. Why had Jon taken care of him when his father died instead of his mother?

"Your mother isn't... dead, too, is she?"

"Yeah."

Oh god, poor Thomas. I wasn't sure why, maybe I wanted him to know I understood, but I said, "I never knew my mother. She ran off and left us when I was just a baby. Drugs and rock and roll or something."

"Guess we have more in common than I thought."

"Guess so. Seems like Jon really cares about you, though."

Thomas smiled. "Yeah, Jon and Natsuki, his wife, have been great to me." He frowned in concern. "But you said your father..."

"He remarried, and after he died she took care of me. Even though she was busy with the new baby, Rachel was more of a parent to me than he ever was." I wasn't exactly bitter, but I couldn't help but sound like it.

"New baby?" Thomas asked. I was grateful he went for the happy side of things.

"My half-sister," I said. "Emily. She's nine now," I added, giving him an idea of how long ago my father had died.

To my surprise, he took it a different way. "Only nine years, huh? That's hard."

I shrugged. "I'm okay. You have any siblings?" I asked, getting off the topic.

"No, but I've got Tethys. TS that is," he amended. "He's always been there, wouldn't trade him for any real brother in the world." He rolled his shoulders and stretched. "We've got wands to dig through."

"How do I start?"

"I hope you’re well rested and that you had a big dinner," he laughed. "Magic does tire you out, and the healthier you are, the better your magic will be. Mar is the word for fire magic. There's a lot of willpower involved. You need to picture what you want done and make your wand do it, just like you make your fingers move. For now, you're going to try making a spark with every one of these wands."

"Every one of them?" There had to be close to fifty.

He nodded. "We'll set aside the ones that work and then go from there." Thomas waited a moment and gestured at the pile of sticks. "Go for it."

Feeling incredibly silly, I picked one up and pointed it at a piece of paper on the desk. "Mar," I said, imagining sparks shooting out. Nothing happened.

"Next," Thomas said, not sounding concerned.

After four more sticks I felt a bit discouraged. "I am really a witch, right?"