"But, how did things not go back to bad as soon as Micah left?" I asked.
"Somehow, Micah detected my abilities and he made me demonstrate to Robert. I had never revealed them before; not even to my first husband." The words caught in her throat.
I took her hand and squeezed it.
She continued, "I thought, people might fear me. Single me out – you know, like a modern-day witch hunt." She shrugged. "So I hid them. But Micah spent three days with us, and spent a lot of time guiding me to believe in myself, and in my powers."
"Yeah, he is good at that," I said, the words almost choking in my throat.
"It wasn't instant confidence, of course. But it helps to see you – leading all of us, making decisions, working toward a goal that is going to save the planet, and all with a baby on your hip." She straightened her back and smiled at me. "Makes me believe I don't need someone like Robert."
"Margie." I squeezed her hand. "I have to ask you something, and please don't get upset."
"What?"
"Did…you…cause the boiler to explode?"
She stiffened for a moment, settling her gaze on me. "I saved Robert, in the river. You saw it. I would never resort to murder. Not even when he was beating me."
"You're right, okay. I'm sorry. It was just on my mind, after your reaction to his death, is all."
She relaxed her shoulders. "I know. It's not like his death hasn't brought me some relief, after all. I really don't care what people think. I just need to concentrate on Bobby Jr. now; undo everything Robert planted in that poor kid's mind."
"Fair enough," I said. Time for a change in subject. "I need to leave soon, got a long walk ahead of us."
She laughed.
"I was hoping you could show me how to move the vines like you did on the river."
The corners of her mouth went up in a smile. "I'd love to." She released my hands, cleared her throat, and stood. "It really has everything to do with the energy of the plant; and much of the energy is active during photosynthesis."
She walked over to a small, budding plant in the ground and squatted down. I followed.
"You're aware of the laws of ecology?" she asked.
"Not necessarily," I said. Not at all.
"I won't give you a lecture here, but one of them is that energy cannot be created, nor destroyed. In photosynthesis, plants simply convert solar energy into chemical energy. I tap into the byproduct, enzyme-modified electrodes. It works much better when the plant is actually absorbing sunlight." Margie looked up, frowning at the cloud-covered sky.
"Oh, I got this." I stood up, closed my eyes, and whispered a spell Vayu taught me shortly after we met. "Sol iustitiae nos illustra - sun of righteousness shine upon us."
I tapped into the frequency of the wind, guiding it to carry my words higher. I shivered as memories of the man who killed Cato, and my parents, assaulted my brain. But his spell was good magic. The clouds above us parted, and the warmth of the sun raced to chase away the remaining chills in my body.
Margie and I both lifted our faces, inviting the sun in. A small wave of energy tingled at my fingertips. We glanced down at the plant.
"See?" asked Margie. "Do you feel that? There is an increased electrical current in the plant. And with stronger illumination the process accelerates, creating more and more energy. All you need to do is tap into it."
Above us, the clouds moved with the wind, and the beam of sun slowly shifted down the forest. Margie extended her hand toward the beam, following it with soft footsteps in the soil. Large leaves on the plants dipped and rose; the stems on taller plants leaned to the side.
"Are you doing that?" I asked.
"Hmm." She nodded. "It isn't exact. I can't manipulate them to do move exactly how I want. The vines over the river were more of a fluke; made me look better than I am." She gave a nervous laugh. "You try."
I was still riding the high frequency of air. Earth was much lower. Slow and steady. I made the transition, tapping into the soil.
"A little higher," Margie coaxed. "Remember, it is a mix of solar and earth energy."
I tried again, melding the two elemental properties together, remaining sensitive to what responded. Finally, a frequency hit, the waves parallel to those I was managing. I followed it back to a plant. I almost got bogged down in it. "Sticky – like syrup."
"Glucose," Margie said. "You got it."
I sent my own energy to intertwine with that of the plant. The weaves buzzed and the plant leaves moved, like it was waving to me. I smiled, waving my own hand in response.
Margie laughed. "Good! You’re a quick learner."