“Don't worry, it's nothing dangerous. We're being trained to protect the temple, to ward off possible supernatural enemies.”
Of course, she was still one of the people who put themselves in danger. I wondered if she had ever fought the wolves, who were obviously one of the Quatura's enemies.
“What's the fourth element?”
Mum looked at me for a moment as if she didn't know what to say.
“It's a very rare and dangerous power. That of fire.”
It didn't sound any more dangerous than being catapulted around by Vivienna or her mother.
“Only three percent of Quatura have this gift, which makes them very rare, but also very powerful. The dangerous thing about them is not the fire itself, but the source of their gift.”
I looked questioningly at Mum, who placed her half-full plate on the coffee table. If she didn't want it anymore, I would eat it.
“All Quatura use their gift to control elements that are already there. A Water Quatura uses the water. That would hardly be possible in the desert. A Quatura of the earth uses the plants and rocks around her, and the Quatura of the air also need certain conditions.”
It all sounded terribly complicated. I wondered if she had grown up with it. More and more questions arose in my mind.
“What about the Fire Quatura?”
“The fire lives in them.” Mum spoke quieter than before as if we could be watched. “They create the flames through an inherent source of power and can do a lot of damage with it if they're not raised within a Circle and taught how to use it.”
It sounded like she had some experience with it.
“Do you know a Fire Quatura?”
Mum looked at me. She seemed to hesitate. Again. So, I just asked my next question to take her mind off it. This strategy had worked well since last week to avoid conflict. And I only did it because I would soon forget all about this anyway.
“And what about the children? Do they have the same gifts as their mothers?”
Telekinesis wouldn't be that impractical...
Startled by this thought, I stopped chewing. I could hardly believe that – for a moment – I had found anything desirable about being part of this magical society. No. That would never happen, because I was ungifted.
Mum gave me a calm look.
“Mostly, yes, but there are exceptions, for example if the child's father comes from a Quatura family where other elements have been passed on. He doesn't have to have active elemental magic himself, and can be ungifted. Also, if other elements have already been inherited within the family line.”
I couldn't help but think of what Alarik had told me. I felt sorry for all the sons who were simply given away because they didn't fit into the family without an elemental gift. Children who had to grow up like Larissa. Orphans.
Larissa really didn't have it easy, which is why I had never judged her for anything. She had to be better off here in Blairville, which was probably why she didn't want to go back.
“Would you have given me away back then if I'd been a boy?”
Mum looked at me in surprise, then laughed.
“What makes you think that?”
I looked at her seriously.
“You know what I mean.”
“Bayla, you're a girl.”
I knew what I was, but I also knew what I could have become.
“Mum...”
Her expression became more serious.
“No,” she finally said. “I would have had a choice because I lived far away from here. But if the Circle had found out, it would no longer have been my choice.”
How could these people have so much power? And how could Mum just accept it?
I had a feeling something was bothering her right now, but I didn't know what it was. I'd learned so many new things about Mum in the last few weeks that there was a huge gap between my original mother and the woman I'd met in Blairville. She used to have a life with me and a life here. Maybe I knew Mum, but did I know who Diana Adams was?
“Mum, you can tell me everything. Don't forget that.”
I looked into her eyes. Into those in which there were just so many unspoken words, so much she could tell me.
“Now that I know about your old life here in Blairville, that you're a witch and that there are werewolves, I don't think anything can surprise me anymore,” I tried in a different way.
The expression on her face instantly told me that this wasn't true, that there was much more to it than that.
The more I knew about her, the more I knew that I didn't actually know anything. And that felt like I was standing on a wobbly bridge with no railings.
“I'll lose my memories in a few weeks anyway.”
