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all the descendants and outcasts finally come out of hiding once and for all and let the world accept us for who we really are."
    The reporter glanced down at his notes. "A transcript from that airplane video taken moments before its explosion over D.C. shows your eldest son saying, and I quote, 'It's not the one percenters who are our enemy, it's the Clann hiding behind their masks and controlling everything from the shadows.' What do you think he meant by that?"
    "Simple. Like I said, it's really the Clann who are controlling everything behind the scenes. They've got their greedy little fingers into everything, and they make sure all that money generated in Washington funnels right back into their pockets to keep them sitting pretty while the rest of us, outcasts and regular citizens alike, starve to death. My boys believe..." He stopped, swallowed hard and started again. "My boys believed same as me that if this country knew the real truth about who was in power, we'd all be working together to make things equal again."
    "So you're saying this nation's top one percent are all—"
    "No, of course not! But a good portion of them are Clann. And a sizeable chunk of the rest of them have their friendly ties with the Clann to thank for their riches too. The Clann pays its secret supporters well. It also makes sure its outcasts don't suceed financially."
    The reporter frowned. "Do you have some evidence to support this? Some sort of paper trail or something?"
    Simon scowled. "No. But all you have to do is look at how consistently my family's crops have had to struggle year after year, even in seasons and areas where everyone else's are doing fine. They clearly put the curse on us when my grandpa left them, and we've been feeling the sting of it ever since. If not for our abilities to conjure up a few rainstorms and drying winds at the right times every year, we would have gone bankrupt ten times over before now."
    "Rainstorms, winds and fire..." the reporter murmured with a small smile. "That sounds amazing. What else can a descendant or outcast do?"
    Simon slowly smiled. "The real question is what can't we do? And that all depends on the individual...what bloodlines they're from, how hard and often they train, their level of determination, and whether they work alone or with others. It doesn't always have to be a conscious thing, either. For example..." He leaned forward again. "In Iowa we have some pretty long winters. My eldest, Eli, was something of a history buff as a hobby and liked to spend those long, cooped up months studying world historical events. And he noticed a kind of pattern developing."
    A pattern.
    My breath caught in my chest. Slowly, carefully I slid to the edge of the armchair, my heart pounding in my ears so loud and fast it was hard to hear the TV. "Turn it up, Dad," I muttered.
    Simon continued, now several levels louder. "If you take a look at the news, especially ever since the creation of the Internet, you might see what he did...a kind of cause and strange effect happening all over the world between mankind when it gets riled up over something and nature's response. And I don't mean global warming."
    It was all I could do not to nod. But remembering Mom was in the room with me, I just barely managed to hold myself still.
    "Meaning...what exactly?" the reporter asked. "Are you implying that the Clann is somehow actually causing natural disasters on our planet?"
    Simon hesitated. " Well, see, that's the thing my boys and I could never quite agree on, as to whether it was the Clann doing it on purpose or..."
    "Or...?" the reporter coaxed when Simon paused again.
    "Or...if it's the outcasts doing it by accident. Because not all of us know what we are and what we can do and just how dangerous we can be. If so, if we are the ones behind it, then it's even more important that the walls between the Clann and the outcasts come down once and for all so the outcasts can be identified, educated about who they are,