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of the news. Evrain had to be strong to cope with his abilities and the training entailed in learning to control them.
    “Virtually every generation of our family has sired a witch, though your mother did not inherit the gift. You are a great rarity.”
    Evrain sighed. “I don’t feel special… I feel… I don’t even know how to explain it. Disconnected. That’s as close as I can get. I have this strange sense that I’m being pulled in several directions at once and I don’t know which way to go.”
    “To varying degrees witches and warlocks are linked to the elements, some more strongly than others. For witches, the Earth’s pull is by far the strongest.” She held him with her gaze. “You are a true elemental warlock—all four powers seem to call to you equally at the moment, though you might still find a stronger link to one. Fire maybe.” She rolled her eyes. “It was obvious, even while you were growing up. I suppressed your abilities until you were old enough to cope with the pressure, but you are so strong that you started fighting the block without even knowing it. Your mother noticed, of course, and it was crystal clear to your godfather and me whenever you came to stay in the holidays. Whenever your emotions were heightened, tiny indications of what you might become began to manifest themselves. Fires burned brighter around you, storms became wilder, streams surged faster—the evidence of your link to the elements was plain to see for anyone who knew what to look for.”
    Evrain wrapped slim fingers around his mug and hunched his shoulders. “Will it ever get any easier?”
    “You have a great deal of learning ahead of you. You know that. This isn’t an easy life, Evrain. Very few people know that warlocks exist, but among them there are those that would harm you. Those that would seek to manipulate you or use your abilities for their own ends. Gregory and I will teach you as much as we can, especially how to defend yourself, but you must be careful to keep your talents secret.”
    “I know. Believe me, I do not want to end up committed to the funny farm. You had to tell Grandpa, though, and Gregory told Coryn.”
    Agatha placed her mug carefully on the hearth. “Perhaps it’s time…”
    “Time for what?” Evrain asked. “There can’t be any family secrets left that are worse than what you’ve already told me.” He gave her a sharp look. “Can there?”
    “Every day your strength increases. It’s finesse you lack, but despite what I’ve been telling you, that doesn’t just come from practice. Not for a warlock. You need balance, a calming influence through which some of your immense power can dissipate. It’s called channeling.”
    Evrain frowned. “I don’t understand.”
    “How can I explain?” Agatha leaned back in her chair. “Coryn isn’t just Gregory’s husband—he is a conduit for Gregory’s energy. A channeler. When Gregory uses his power, his deep emotional link with Coryn allows some of that power to filter through Coryn’s body. Think of it like power generation. You’ve seen how a substation sparks in a storm, yet electricity through wire is safe and controlled. Gregory is the power station.”
    “And Coryn is the wire?”
    “Yes.”
    “So was Grandpa a channeler for you?”
    “No, witches don’t need to channel, our power is nowhere near wild enough. But all warlocks need someone. It’s not easy to find the right person either. Channeling for a warlock hurts. It requires a relationship founded on the deepest love and trust, and that in itself is hard to find.”
    “So what you’re saying is that until I find a partner prepared to channel for me, my power will remain unpredictable?”
    “I’m afraid so. It’s not something you need to worry about yet, but without a means to channel, the wild magic can overcome you. Subsume you, until you no longer wish to control it.”
    Agatha observed the emotions flashing through Evrain’s eyes. Anger, fear, a