A Hidden Witch

Chapter 11

Nell heaved a sigh of relief as she climbed out of Aaron’s van. Here in the middle of nowhere, she could finally stand down from high alert. Four-year-olds and airplanes were a fun mix for about an hour. Unfortunately, it took a lot longer than that to get from California to Nova Scotia.
And she’d had to clamp a silence spell on Aervyn going through customs. The nice border agent didn’t really need to know what an unhappy witchling thought he could do to make planes go a little faster.
“Try not to lose your brother before dinner, Ginia,” she called out to her daughter, already halfway across the lawn happily greeting Lizzie, with Aervyn not far behind.
Kevin waved. “Don’t worry, Aunt Nell. We’ll make sure he doesn’t fall in the ocean.”
It was hard to take that promise seriously from a boy whose pants were wet up to the knees. “Just make sure you all come back for dinner.”
In moments, all five children were around the end of the house and gone.
“It will do them good to run for a bit,” Aaron said, grabbing some of her luggage.
Nell grinned. “You just don’t want them burning it off inside your inn.”
“That, too. Although Elorie assures me it’s been witchling-proofed.”
“Nothing is Aervyn-proof.”
Aaron chuckled. “Remind me to triple your damage deposit, then.” He picked up a bag. “What the heck is in here—rocks?”
“That would be Ginia’s collection of potions. She wanted to show Sophie and Moira some of her latest creations. Unfortunately, potions are heavy, and not all that easy to get through customs.”
Aaron eyed the bag with sensible caution. “I can imagine. Will any of them turn me into a frog or cause me to express my undying love to the wrong woman?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re pointed at your wife if you drink that one.” Aaron laughed, and they began lugging bags into the house. Nell decided she approved of Elorie’s guy.
A sense of humor was an important quality if you were married to a witch, particularly if there were witchling babies on the horizon. Nell knew a case of baby fever when she saw one. Elorie’s eyes had strayed to every baby on the West Coast during her visit. She’d be shocked if there weren’t a little Shaw in at least the planning stages.
Moira was waiting in the inn’s parlor. “How very lovely to see you.” She hugged Nell and gestured to the table. “Come, sit. I’ve tea already poured. I assume your children ran away with our ruffians.”
Nell breathed deeply and downshifted to rural Nova Scotia speed. “They did, but Ginia can hardly wait to sit down with you and Sophie. She’s been practicing her potions and threatening to turn our entire back yard into a garden.”
Moira beamed. “She’s most welcome in my garden. My flowers could use some tending by young hands. They feel a bit neglected these days.”
“None of your witchlings have earth magic?”
“Our Sean has a wee bit, but his talents are mostly with the rocks and land. He’s not at all interested in the plants, and I don’t think he’s got the patience to sit and tend to flowers.”
“That’s women’s work,” Marcus said from the doorway, nodding at Nell. She wasn’t entirely sure he was kidding.
Moira looked heavenward. “Nell, you’d do me the most wonderful favor if you could tinker with my nephew’s thinking while you’re here. Some of his brain appears to be stuck in the Middle Ages.”
Marcus poured himself a cup of tea. “I’ve never denied it. Welcome to our corner of the world, Nell. I won’t ask about your trip—I assume that with two witchlings in tow, it was less than pleasant.”
Nell could feel a hiss of protest coming on, even though Marcus was exactly right. He just rubbed her the wrong way.
“Marcus, behave,” Moira said, an amused look on her face. “So, Lauren didn’t travel with you then, Nell?”
“No, she didn’t. There was some last-minute deal she had to wrap up this morning, so she took a different airline and routed through Colorado. She and Sophie will be coming in together in a couple of hours.”
Marcus sat and offered Nell a bowl of berries. “Perhaps she reassessed the wisdom of spending hours on an airplane with a four-year-old.”
Nell just raised an eyebrow. She knew how to handle bullies. Her pithy reply, however, got cut off by Aervyn’s flying entrance. “Blueberries!”
He made a beeline for the bowl in Marcus’s hand, and then caught and ported it to safety when it went crashing toward the floor. Everyone froze as a flood of love and pain hammered into every mind in the room. Marcus’s face was pasty white and a study in anguish.
“Evan.” His harsh whisper as he stared at Aervyn’s face cut through Nell’s soul.
Her son reached out gently and laid his hands on Marcus’s cheeks. “I’m not your Evan, but you can love me. That would be just fine with me.” He climbed into Marcus’s lap and nestled.
Nell watched the crotchety old bachelor hold her son like he was spun glass, a haunted sadness on his face.
Aervyn ported over the blueberries and held them up. “Here, have some berries. They’re my favorites. Did Evan like blueberries, too?”
“Yes,” whispered Marcus, kissing the top of Aervyn’s head. “Yes, he did.”
“Was he your brother, or your little boy?” Aervyn asked. “Your mind is kind of jumbly.”
“He was my twin. He died when he was just a little older than you.”
Aervyn looked up solemnly. “It makes you really sad.”
“Yes.”
Aervyn tucked his head into Marcus’s chest. “It wasn’t your fault. Even really strong witches can’t fix everything. You were just little, like me.”
Moira sucked in a wavery breath. “You’ve blamed yourself all this time, Marcus? My sweet boy, it was never your fault. If anything, it was mine.”
She looked over at Nell. “Evan’s magic emerged young and hard. He was a fire mage, and a strong one. In the midst of putting out fires every night, we somehow missed that he was also an astral traveler.” Her voice dropped to almost nothing. “One night he left his body and didn’t make it back. He wasn’t quite six yet.”
Nell’s heart bled with all the sadness and guilt in the room. She had always wondered at Moira’s strict devotion to training. Magic that killed was the worst nightmare of every witchling’s parents.
“I couldn’t call him back,” Marcus said softly. “I could feel him, but I couldn’t bring him back.”
Aervyn tilted his head. “You still feel him.”
Marcus leaned down and kissed his head again. “Yes, my boy. I still do.”
~ ~ ~

Elorie finished her last bite of salmon and looked down the dinner table in satisfaction. Kitchens were the heart of any Nova Scotia home, and while she loved intimate dinners for two, it was also wonderful to have a table full of visitors and laughter. With all their guests now arrived, the table was definitely full.
The seating configuration was very strange, however. She leaned over toward Sophie and Nell. “Since when is Uncle Marcus a kid magnet?” He had Aervyn on one side, Lizzie on the other. Normally he and children gravitated to opposite ends of the table.
Nell spoke quietly. “Since this afternoon—with Aervyn, at least. Apparently my son looks a lot like Evan.”
Sophie sucked in a breath and exchanged looks with Elorie. Evan had always been the one subject no one talked about.
And I’d appreciate if it remained that way, Marcus sent.
Elorie felt her cheeks getting red, and the eyes of more than one child turned her way. There were far too many mind witches at the table. She checked surreptitiously to make sure her gizmo was still turned on.
Your brain may not be leaking anymore, niece, but your face is as expressive as usual.
So find something else to talk about, you old fart, Elorie thought, and then blushed even more furiously when Marcus began to laugh. Dammit, how was he hearing her thoughts?
I don’t need to hear them. It’s not the first dirty look I’ve received in fifty-two years.
Elorie put her mental foot down. Enough. This was her turf. Her home, her dinner table. She picked the most sympathetic face at the table. “Ginia, I hear you’ve brought a suitcase of potions to share with us.”
The girl’s face brightened. “I practiced everything Aunt Moira showed me on video chat.”
“Excellent,” Sophie said. “I think a potions class tomorrow morning would be a great way to get witch school started. Ginia, perhaps you could help me teach the others some of what Aunt Moira showed you.”
Elorie pushed down the small spurt of jealousy. It was only right that Sophie help organize witch school. This might be her turf, but she could surely share it.
Sean groaned. “Potions are boring.”
Elorie elbowed him. “That’s because yours never work. Perhaps if you pay attention and actually mix things correctly, your potions would be a little more exciting.”
“Who wants to make stuff for aches and pains, anyhow?” His brain finally caught up with his mouth, and he glanced at Moira with concern. “Sorry, Gran. I know that stuff works good for you.”
“Healing hurts is a great gift,” Sophie said, “and not one to be taken lightly.” Her eyes twinkled. “But I have a little recipe that says it will help a baseball pitcher’s arm recover faster.”
Sean looked interested in spite of himself. If anyone could make him sit through potions without grumbling, it would be Sophie. And Elorie had a sneaking suspicion that the pitcher’s potion had a lot in common with the one Gran used for her aches and pains.
Aaron and Mike returned from the pantry, bearing pies. “Anyone have room for blueberry pie?”
If anyone didn’t, they got drowned out under the avalanche of noise from people who did. However, as Aaron started slicing pieces and plating them, there was a sudden drop in volume—the kind that got any trainer’s attention very quickly. Four witchlings were very quiet and all looking at Ginia.
“What are they up to?” Nell asked under her breath.
Elorie shook her head. “No idea.”
“They’ve pulled together a circle of sorts,” Sophie whispered. Nell nodded in agreement.
Elorie watched with interest as one of the dessert plates of blueberry pie levitated, and then disappeared. It reappeared teetering on the very edge of the table in front of Marcus.
He scowled and nudged it to safety. “Aim more carefully, young ones. Who’s doing what?”
Aervyn looked up quizzically. “Can’t you see?”
Marcus shook his head. “Not all of it. I can see you’ve each called some elemental power.”
Aervyn grinned. “That’s cuz Net power is invisible. It’s like a special superpower no one can see.”
Marcus nodded at Ginia in approval. “No mean feat, blending four working spells like that. It looks like you did more this afternoon than accidentally fall in the ocean.”
Ginia giggled. The five witchlings had come in for dinner dripping wet and proclaiming innocence. “We practiced with rocks. Good thing we didn’t start with plates. We kind of dropped a few at first.”
Elorie felt her world tilt. They’d done actual magic with Net power? On the beach?
Nell frowned. “What were you using for a power source, girl of mine?”
Ginia reached into her pocket and pulled out an iPhone, looking sheepish. “I borrowed your phone and tweaked it, Mama. The touch screen works just like the mouse does.”
Nell rolled her eyes. “Remind me to have a chat with you about roaming charges, kiddo. How long did you have it on for?”
“Just a couple of hours, Aunt Nell.” Sean, obviously trying to be helpful, dug Ginia in deeper.
Marcus stepped in. “Since you’ve already spent a fortune, a little more won’t matter. Do that trick with the plates again. I want to watch.”
“Wait.” Elorie was astonished to hear her own voice almost shouting. She was not going to be sidelined yet again by witches doing magic she couldn’t understand. Her home, her table, her power. “Ginia—this is the same magic I have, right?”
Ginia nodded.
Elorie looked at Aervyn. “Can you mindlink with me the way you did in California? I want to see what you’re doing.”
He grinned. “Sure. Can you turn off Uncle Jamie’s gizmo, though? It’s a lot of work to hook into your brain when that’s on.”
And put her mind on display for half the table?
“Not to worry,” Marcus said dryly. He gestured to Sean and Kevin. “These two will be plenty busy with their part of the spell, and Lauren and I have better manners than you think. Aervyn is right—he needs the gizmo off if you want to see.” He crossed his arms, almost a dare.
She wanted to see.
Elorie laid Jamie’s gizmo on the table, focused as hard as she could on blueberry pie, and turned the device off.
Aervyn’s mindlink clicked into place moments later. You can relax now. I can make sure your brain isn’t leaky.
She didn’t much care anymore. Mindlinking had brought her a gift beyond measure. For the first time in her life, Elorie could see power at work. For someone who had watched thousands of spells from the outside, it was sheer joy to finally see the power in which she so deeply believed.
She could see the five witchlings, each calling a power source. The only one she recognized was the network of fireworks—that would be Ginia’s Net power. She concentrated, trying to identify the others. The sinuously flowing lines must be Lizzie’s water energy, and the crackling light would be Kevin’s fire. Aervyn held earth magic, and that left Sean calling air.
Elorie’s heart danced with the beauty of it. The four streams of energy touched and twisted as each witchling created a spell. Lizzie’s and Sean’s looked fairly simple, but whatever Kevin and Aervyn were doing was complex and convoluted. She yearned to understand.
It’s not difficult, girl. Lizzie and Sean are working together to lift the plate, Marcus sent. Elorie jumped. She hadn’t realized anyone else was watching.
We’re all watching, child, came Gran’s soothing voice. Marcus and Lauren have patched us all in. Kevin calls fire, but he’s acting as channeler, helping to blend all the energies and keep them balanced. It’s very delicate work he’s handling, and well done.
Aervyn’s readying a teleporting spell, Nell said. But I don’t think he’s the one that actually uses it. Watch.
Elorie watched in fascination as Ginia’s fireworks suddenly got brighter. The four spells glistened for a moment, and then melded.
It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
Damn it! Marcus cursed. They missed!
Elorie felt Aervyn’s giggles beginning as they all thudded out of mindlink. She opened her eyes to find Uncle Marcus looking at the blueberry pie in his lap with disgust, and everyone else at the table in various stages of mirth.
Her own sense of humor kicked in as she realized they probably hadn’t missed at all.
You think I don’t know that, girl?
Elorie managed to turn Jamie’s gizmo back on before she collapsed on the table, laughing.
Gran leaned over and patted Marcus’s hand. “It might be a good time to practice those cleaning spells you so disdain, nephew.”
Marcus just growled.
~ ~ ~

“The moon’s gorgeous tonight.” It wasn’t often Elorie could convince her husband to take a midnight walk on the beach, so she was pleased the night sky had decided to show off a little.
Of course, it wouldn’t be her who had to get up at the crack of dawn to cook breakfast for an inn full of witches.
Aaron wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “So, what exactly happened at dinner tonight?”
“The magic, you mean?”
“Is that how Marcus ended up with my pie in his lap?”
Elorie stopped dead in the sand as realization hit. He’d been the only non-witch in the room. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I should have told you what was going on.” Heaven knows she’d been shut out of the magic often enough to know what it felt like.
He kissed her forehead. “So, tell me now.”
“I think the children practiced together this afternoon, and they did a nice little demonstration with your pie. Each of the children cast a spell, and then Ginia blended them together to do one big spell.”
“Dumping pie on Marcus is a big spell?”
Elorie giggled. “I’m not sure whether they meant to do that part or not.”
“And Aervyn made it so that you could see what was happening.”
“Right. Uncle Marcus and Lauren patched in everyone else so we could all watch.” She winced even as she said it. “All the witches, at least. I am sorry, Aaron. That was horribly rude of us.”
He grinned. “Nah. I got to watch the look on Marcus’s face as the pie landed. The rest of you missed that.”
He stopped for a minute, bending over to pick up a shiny moon opal, and held it out to her. “I also got to see the look on your face. You were happy, Elorie. Really happy.”
The joy of that moment still echoed in her heart. “I’ve never been able to see the magic before, see power being used. It was amazing.”
“What Ginia did, blending the spells together—is that what you’ll be able to do?”
Elorie’s legs simply melted. She sat down hard, staggered by sheer shock. In the magic, and in all the laughter, she had somehow missed that one essential point. “Oh, my God. That was Net magic Ginia did.”
He nodded, clearly confused.
She could feel the tears coming. “I can learn to do what she did. I’m not going to be a useless witch.”