A/N:Hi again! This is the sequel to First Adventure. If you've read that,
thanks for coming back! If you haven't read that, you really need to do
so first before starting this one. I'm not so much promoting my own
writing as warning you that if you read this without the first one,
you'll be pretty lost, because I deviate significantly from traditional
Highlander stuff. Have fun!
Note to Steve-O, Peaches, Patches, Ravioli, and the gang: If you read this, you may
recognize some things...winks...I'm just using it for base ideas.
So don't worry, I've changed everyone's real names.

"What're you reading?" I asked Alex.
She held up the small paperback book so I could see the cover: Lord
of the Flies.
"Summer schoolwork," she explained with a miserable expression.
"You're bringing homework?" I demanded. "Are you crazy?"
She shrugged.
"I have to finish it."
I made a face.
"Oh well," I said, "At least you got a good book."
Alex looked stunned.
"Did you just call this good?"
I nodded.
"Yeah! You mean you don't like it?"
"It's horrible!" she said. "The things they do to each other…" She
shook her head. "Ugh."
Amy, who had been watching us, grinned at her reaction, then raised
an eyebrow.
"Please don't tell me I have to listen to you two argue…"
I grinned right back.
"Hopefully not. Close your ears."
We were stuffed into the backseat of my mom's car, on the way
north for two weeks at Camp Meneebuggees, as we called it. I barely
even remembered the real name, we'd called it that for so long. It
was a great place, if you didn't count the mosquito-breeding lake it
sat on. This particular summer, we were taking a week-long trip to
Florida - spending the first week in camp, learning to snorkel, going
over safety precautions, and planning meals, then taking off to spend
the second week in the Keys.
"Yeah. Right."
Amy went back to writing in her green-velvet-covered journal, and
Alex went back to her book. I was digging through my backpack for
my headphones when Alex poked me.
"Huh?" I asked, looking up.
"Do you have your sword?" she mouthed at me.
"Worrywart," I mouthed back, teasing. "And yes." I had taken a bike
ride one afternoon to a couple of local antique stores (at least, that's
what the signs claimed - I would have called them junque stores), and
eventually found an old sword. When the shop owner asked why I
wanted a sword, I claimed my dad was a collector, and it was a
birthday present. Never mind that my dad was nothing of the sort.
I had then gone and asked Duncan's opinion of my new-old blade. He
told me it wasn't the world's best, but wasn't exactly scrap metal
either, and that for one afternoon on a bike, it wasn't a bad find.
It was fairly plain - the blade was straight, double-edged steel, the
hilt and crossbar smooth with a tiny ivy pattern etched in. The
scabbard, once I cleaned off what seemed to be decades of tarnish,
proved to be simple and functional. The only odd thing about it,
Duncan said, was that it was completely unmarked. No maker's initials
anywhere, not even a year.
That didn't make a difference to me, though, not being very
knowledgeable on old things. All I cared about was having something
to hand that could possibly keep me from getting my head chopped
off. If, of course, I knew how to use it - after carefully inspecting
my find, Duncan had handed it back to me and proceeded to teach me
some basic blocks and strikes. I had practiced all I could since then,
but was very aware that I was still distinctly lacking in those skills
essential to keeping me working together with my head.
Alex grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry," she said. "I just want you to come home with your head
intact, ok?"
"Sounds good to me too," I agreed with a nod, and Alex opened her
book once more. I dug up my CD player and hooked the headphones
over my ears, leaning back against the seat and closing my eyes. I
mentally sang along as the music started.
"Everybody's thinking they're so hot tonight,
But there's a fire in your eyes…"
That line reminded me of something, and I thought back three
weeks to the day Duncan had told us we were mages…

"So how do we find out what our own powers are?" I asked him.
"Well, we already know you're a fire mage," he replied with a grin.
"Past that, I can use a spell to look at your magical self and see what
type of abilities you have, but not yet."
"Why not?"
"You have to gain some control over your energy first - otherwise
it's not safe. If you were to lose control while I was in direct contact
with your power center, it could do significant damage to both of us."
"Makes sense," I said.
Amy looked puzzled.
"How can we gain control of our power if we don't know what to
control?"
"Because there's a difference," Duncan explained, "between
controlling your energy and controlling your abilities. You must be
able to control your energy before you can use whatever abilities you
have."
"Oh. And how do we do that?"
Duncan gestured, and the ball of magenta fire that had been in his
palm a few minutes before reappeared.
"When you can call up something like this on your own, you'll have
enough control to be safe. But obviously, I have to teach you how."
He turned to Amy. "I can help you the first time, just so you get the
feel of it. Then it will be easier to practice on your own. You,
however," he continued, turning to look at me, "will have to do this
yourself. I can talk you though it, but I can't actually help you."
"Why not?" I asked, puzzled. "Are fire mages that dangerous?"
"Only to me," Duncan answered with a rueful smile. "I'm a water
mage. Our energies won't get along well."
With Duncan's assistance, Amy managed to get a slight glow going
around her hands - not enough to tell yet what color power she had,
but enough to know it was definitely there if she could get to it.
Duncan had the talked me through what I needed to know to find
my power, but nothing happened. He told me that that was normal,
that it would probably be a while before I got anything at all.
"Just don't stop trying," he said finally. "It's frustrating, but it will
happen. Probably at the most inopportune moment," he added with a
wry grin.
Amy and I both promised we'd keep working on it, and Alex told us
jokingly that if we didn't, we'd both be in trouble.

I grinned at the memory of Alex's threat and turned to look out the
window. I recognized where we were, which was less than five
minutes form the camp.
"Hey guys," I said, elbowing both my friends simultaneously. "Get
ready, we're almost there!"
"Woohoo!" said Amy, shutting her journal and stuffing it back in her
bag. "I am so ready to go somewhere."
"Me too," agreed Alex, stashing her book away. "I need a vacation."
We drove by a sign announcing, "Lower camp entrance - please
proceed to upper entrance."
Mom drove up the hill, following the packed-dirt road to the upper
access road of Camp Buggee.
Half an hour later, we had checked in, dropped off our bags, and
claimed bunks.
"Bye mom," I aid giving her a hug.
"Have fun, honey," she told me. "See you in two weeks!"
"See you!"
We all waved as she turned and walked back to the parking lot,
leaving us to two weeks of counselors, other girls, traveling,
exploring, swimming, mosquitoes, and countless other adventures.
Amy's right, I thought to myself. I'm ready to go somewhere!