A Hidden Witch

Chapter 13

“Ah, and isn’t it nice to chat in person for once,” Moira said, setting out a plate of finger foods Aaron had delivered. He was such a thoughtful young man.
Sophie pointed at the ceiling. “If you go have dinner with Elorie tonight, we’ll take care of that. Mike’s gone to fetch some paint from Lizzie’s house.”
“Thank you, dear. There was a time I could have fixed it myself, but I’m a wee bit past that age now.”
“There are plenty of hands here to take care of things like that for you. Use them.” The stern look on Sophie’s face was one Moira had seen many times in her own mirror. It worked very well on witchlings, but she hadn’t been one of those for a very long time.
“And use them I do, but I’m not an invalid yet, either. In fact, I believe Kevin is off having himself a little post-training nap, and Elorie was threatening to join him.” And the old witch was still standing. Well, sitting, but that was a far sight from napping.
Nell grinned and reached for one of Aaron’s tasty nibbles. “Full of energy, are you? Aervyn’s climbing apple trees, if you’d like to go join him.”
“I feel like I could. Handling that much power has left me positively zinging.” Moira patted Sophie’s hand. “I wish you’d been able to experience it, too. Perhaps then you and Mike would move a wee bit faster on making me some grandbabies.” Oh, she was feeling feisty today.
Sophie choked on her cake, laughing. “You have plenty of those already, and Mike doesn’t need any help in that department.” Her eyes softened. “And today was not my day to do magic.”
Aye, thought Moira. Sophie had been there as sister, not as witch, even if Elorie didn’t fully realize it yet.
Lauren was looking at Moira in fascination. “You still get that kind of buzz from working magic?” Then she clapped a hand over her mouth, as her cheeks flamed red. “Oops, sorry. That came out totally wrong.”
“Aye.” Moira leaned forward, feeling entirely mischievous. “There’s a saying in Ireland, that it’s the luckiest of men who is married to an old witch.”
Sophie giggled. “You’re totally making that up.”
“I’m not at all. And the more power you touch, the more true it is.” She looked over at Lauren again. “Did no one tell you, lass? If you haven’t found yourself a man to share your bed, you might consider it. He’ll likely think himself very fortunate. Of course, it’s always best when you share love as well.”
Now Lauren’s cheeks were the color of fresh-picked strawberries. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
“Sorry.” Nell chuckled. “Someone should have warned you that the ladylike and polite Moira you chat with online is not quite what you get at her kitchen table.”
“Now you tell me.”
Moira laid her hand on Lauren’s red cheek. “There’s ice cream in the freezer, dear. That will help cool you off.”
Ah, it was like being a young witch again. Three wonderful women in her kitchen, full of laughter and magic, and the next generation playing out back.
Nell grinned as Lauren got up from the table. “If you bring two spoons, I’ll change the subject for you.”
“Deal,” said Lauren, rummaging in the drawers.
Nell looked over at Moira. “So, back to the official purpose for this meeting. Besides Net power, what kind of training do we need to be doing with the witchlings?”
“We should confirm with Elorie—she handles most of the training for our young ones now. I do know that we’d like to test our Sean as spellcaster for a full circle. With all of you, we easily have the numbers to do that.”
Nell nodded. “I’d be happy to do a little prep work with him, if you like.”
“That would be lovely. Perhaps you might impress upon him the importance of discipline in a full circle. He’s a wee bit full of himself yet.”
Nell rolled her eyes. “I’m not green enough to agree to the impossible. I’ll do what I can, but that’s a lesson that comes with time, as you know all too well. Do you have a channeler in mind for him?”
“We’re hoping his twin might have some channeling talent. Lauren, perhaps you could do a bit of work with Kevin and evaluate his potential. We’ve not many channelers here, and a young one to train would be very good news.”
Lauren set down four spoons and a pint of ice cream. “I think we already know that much. Elorie didn’t scorch your ceiling alone—Kevin gave her a pretty big assist.”
Oh, my. She hadn’t seen anything of the sort, but then again, she’d been swept up in the momentous occasion of her granddaughter’s first magic.
Nell nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I thought that, too. Blending spells with Net power is a little like spellcasting. When Ginia does it, she pulls power directly from those who cast the initial spells, but Kevin handled that for Elorie.”
“Exactly,” Lauren said. “He also helped hold everything steady as she organized the power streams. It was quite a nice piece of work, and very similar to channeling for a traditional circle.”
Now, wasn’t that interesting. “Well, then. It sounds like this would be a very good week for a gathering. Sunday’s a full moon, so that would be auspicious timing. Three circles, I think—we’ve lots of witches that could use the extra training. We’ll make sure Sean and Kevin get their chances.”
“What’s a gathering?” Lauren asked.
Sophie grinned. “Prepare for an invasion, Nova Scotia-style. I’ll go have the witchlings start spreading the word.”
~ ~ ~

“Put me down, Aervyn Walker!”
Sophie spun around at Lizzie’s furious words and spied her young charge floating four feet up in the air. “What’s going on, kiddos?”
“He started it!” Lizzie was an only child and getting a crash course in having a younger munchkin around. It wasn’t all going smoothly.
Aervyn, well used to holding his own as the youngest of five, just tried to look as innocent as possible. Since he was soaking wet and Lizzie was their best water witch, Sophie was pretty sure he wasn’t the only guilty party.
Mike appeared around the corner of the house, grabbed Lizzie’s ankle, and pulled her to the ground. “Aaron’s looking for some help picking strawberries. Anyone interested?”
Lizzie’s mad vanished. She grabbed Aervyn’s hand and towed him toward the inn. “Come on. I’m a really good picker, and Aaron always lets us eat as many as we want.”
Sophie laid her head on Mike’s shoulder, feeling his arm wrap around her. “Saved by the berries. Thanks.”
“Still think you want a couple of your own one day?”
“Ssh!” Sophie giggled even as she hushed him. “If Aunt Moira hears you talking like that, she’ll be knitting baby blankets by this afternoon.”
Mike’s eyes were suddenly intent. “Would that be such a bad thing?”
Sometimes, life’s moments of decision snuck up on you. Standing in Moira’s garden, mouth half open in shock, Sophie met the gaze of the man she loved and did as he asked—opened herself to possibility.
She felt her heart bloom. Decision made.
Glowing with certainty, she reached for his free hand, palm to palm. Letting her power flow, here in this place of her childhood roots, she made him a promise, silent and strong. Time had often stopped for her in Moira’s garden. Now it stopped for them both. And Sophie knew, whatever the future brought, it would be for the two of them together.
“Uncle Mike, we hafta go!” They looked up at Lizzie’s yell from the street, where Aaron’s van awaited.
“Sorry, I’m on strawberry-picking detail.” He bent over and plucked three flowers for her. “I’ll try to save some for you.”
As he jogged off, Sophie looked at the blooms in her hands. A daffodil, a dahlia, and a daisy. In the language of flowers, a message of new beginnings, joy, and forever love. A promise.
Elorie walked over with two glasses of lemonade. Her eyes widened as she looked at the flowers. Anyone raised around Moira knew the language and lore of blooms. “Interesting bouquet.”
“They’re from Mike.”
“Oh, really. Does he know what they mean?”
Sophie stroked the daffodil’s soft petals. “He does.”
She looked up to see tears glistening in the eyes of her childhood friend. “I’m really happy for you, Sophie. He seems like a wonderful man.”
Ah, this was the sister she had missed. So very much. Words disappeared into feeling. She hugged her friend, held her flowers, and sniffled, entirely happy.
After a moment of quiet bliss, Elorie grinned. “Did you warn him that Gran will expect grandbabies?”
“He’s on her side on that one.”
“Well, I guess he knows what he’s getting into. He seems really balanced, and he’s clearly got a good dose of courage, going strawberry picking with the young ones.”
Sophie laughed. “I’m grateful. I think those two have had about as much witch school as they can take for one day.”
“Not everyone finds plants and herbs fascinating.”
Sophie nodded over to where Ginia and Moira had their heads together. “Some do, and that’s all we need—just one or two to pass on the lore. Aunt Moira knows so much—I feel like I can’t possibly hold it all. Ginia’s drinking it up, but the two little ones were done.”
“They’re not the only ones. Nell was a tough taskmistress for Net power training this morning.” Elorie yawned. “Kevin’s fallen asleep on the couch, and I’m thinking about joining him.”
“That sounds tempting. How is it going, being on the trainee end of things?”
“I have a lot more empathy for how hard it is now. I used to wonder why an hour of training usually had my witchlings racing for the nearest exit.”
Sophie grinned, delighting in the comfortable rekindling of sisterhood. “At least you don’t have to take witch history.”
“Don’t tell Gran,” whispered Elorie, “but I hope I make it at least a little more exciting than she used to. Not that Sean would agree, but he’s never had to sit through the lectures we used to get.”
Sean. Uh, oh. Sophie scanned the garden.
Elorie obviously recognized the look. “Lost one, did you? Try the beach—that’s usually where I find him when he’s gone AWOL.”
Sophie frowned. “He’s supposed to be doing mind-witch practice with Marcus this afternoon. Maybe they’re working together.”
“I don’t think so. Uncle Marcus is asleep in the hammock behind the inn.”
“What is this, siesta time?” Sophie finished her lemonade. Time to go on a witchling hunt. “Ginia, Aunt Moira—have you seen Sean lately?”
“Check the beach, dear,” Moira said without looking up.
Elorie hooked her arm through Sophie’s. “They’re in plant-magic stupor; they’re not going to be any use. I’ll help you look.”
They wandered over to the back yard of the inn. Sure enough, Marcus was snoring in the hammock. It brought back sharp memories of an afternoon, long ago, and a rather memorable witchling prank. Sophie grinned at Elorie. “Do you think we can pull it off twice?”
Elorie’s eyes gleamed. “If you let me go get Gran’s computer and Lauren, I bet we can pull off something even more glamorous this time.”
The giggles struck as Sophie waited. It was like being ten again and finding cranky old Marcus napping on the back porch.
Elorie came back out, computer in hand.
Lauren trailed just behind her. “It’s usually Aervyn getting me in trouble.”
Sophie winked. “It’s only trouble if we get caught.” Corrupting innocent witchlings was a tried-and-true witch school tradition. Time they got Lauren caught up on a little more of what she’d missed growing up a non-witch.
Well, that might not be entirely accurate. Elorie had grown up a non-witch, and she’d been involved in plenty of witchling antics.
“So what’s the plan?” Lauren asked. “I owe Marcus one.”
He did have a gift for rubbing people the wrong way. “Well, last time we did this, we cast a princess illusion spell and left him holding a bouquet of flowers. We need to step it up for a repeat performance, though.”
Lauren snickered. “I can make him think he’s a princess—will that do? And I can visualize your mind for Elorie so she can work with whatever nefarious spellwork you have in mind.”
Now they were getting somewhere. Sophie grinned. “I can grow him a bed of flowers that would make Sleeping Beauty proud.”
Elorie started to speak, and then stopped. “Huh. I don’t know what I can do. You guys don’t need me for your spells.”
Newbie witch, thought Sophie fondly. She looked at the computer in Elorie’s hands. “Oh, I think we can come up with something.” She grabbed the laptop and logged quickly into her private Realm costume stash. “Here. Princess gear. Can you pull that out here and dress our dear Uncle Marcus? If you meld that together with Lauren’s mind magic, and my floral décor, he’ll look and feel rather convincingly royal. And girly.”
Sophie knew it was a heck of a challenge. Only Ginia had tried blending more than two spells at once, and one of these was in virtual reality.
Elorie looked at the screen and considered. “Have you got a prince in there?”
Damn. Sophie eyed her with serious respect. “That would be a tricky piece of magic, sister mine. Are you ready to try something that fancy?”
Elorie’s eyes twinkled, but there was steel behind the humor. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Some quick cut-and-paste coding, and Sophie had a full set of princess gear and a handsome prince avatar all ready to be ported to real life. From Lauren’s state of concentration, she was readying whatever mind magic was needed to convince grumpy old Marcus that he really was Sleeping Beauty.
Facing Elorie, Sophie pulled earth power, activated the spellcode, and nodded. Ready. Today she would do magic with her sister.
Elorie took a deep breath and laid her hand on the mouse, focusing. Sophie could see nothing but her blooming spell.
Sorry about that, Lauren sent. This is a little tricky. Let me patch you in, too.
In moments, Sophie could see the challenge Elorie faced. Three swirling spellshapes—and wow, mind magics looked complicated. How the heck was she going to get all of those to meld together? Real remorse hit. This was supposed to be a joke, not a big ding to the confidence of a new witch.
Have faith, girl. I think she can do this. We were all new, once.
Sophie shoveled her doubts aside as power sparked and spells began to move. Elorie had the spellcode and earth magic aligned with impressive speed, but adding the mind magic looked like one of those impossible puzzle games. Maybe some kinds of magic just weren’t made to fit together.
Suddenly Elorie pushed the simpler spellshapes away and pulled the mind magic shape to the center. Sophie had no idea what was going on, but Lauren’s mind felt highly impressed.
Watch. She’s brilliant.
As Sophie gazed in fascination, Elorie created a mirror shape from Net power, and then overlaid it on Lauren’s spell. The two flared, and then merged, and then flared again as she began manipulating the flow of the merged power streams.
Fascination turned to awe as Elorie formed a final shape with two connection points obviously meant to interlock the other spells. It was creative, precise, and unbelievably beautiful—the magic of an artist.
Hold steady, Lauren cautioned. She’s about to release it. Light danced, and then the bright joy of power unfurled.
Wow. Just. Wow.
Sophie let her dazzled delight loose as she opened her eyes to the friend of her childhood. Her new sister in magic. And then their shared awe dissolved in helpless mirth as Marcus roared.
“Sean James O’Reilly, what foul magic is this?” Marcus sprang from the hammock and pushed the prince furiously away. Sophie held her ribs and tried to laugh quietly. Apparently he didn’t appreciate being awakened by a gentle kiss of love. That figured.
Sean came running over the lawn. “Whoa, Uncle Marcus. Did you do that?” Then he skidded to a halt, hand over his mouth. “Never mind, that was a really dumb question.”
Marcus looked down at the princess gown he was wearing. “Indeed. However, my accusing you was equally dumb. You’d need a circle to pull this off, and clearly you don’t have one.”
“Nope. Wasn’t me.” Sean shook his head with glee and looked around for the culprit.
His eyes got huge as he noticed the three of them sitting on the porch. Uh, oh, Sophie thought. Busted. She avoided looking at her companions in crime and tried to look innocent. That was hard to do when you had a case of the uncontrollable giggles.
“Elorie Shaw,” growled Marcus, “undo this spell right now.”
His niece looked rather pained, in between giggles. “I’m not sure I know how to do that yet.”
Sean snickered. “It often takes more power to undo a spell than to cast it in the first place. Best you be remembering that.” He was an excellent mimic—Sophie could almost hear Aunt Moira talking.
Elorie blushed. “You’re exactly right.” Then she looked at Marcus and fell over laughing again. “But it was so worth it.”
Oh, boy, Sophie thought, watching the glee on Sean’s face. This was going to throw a bit of a wrench into witchling discipline.
~ ~ ~

There were few things better than chocolate in bed, Elorie thought. Well, maybe one thing. She dunked a strawberry in chocolate and fed it to Aaron, then leaned back to enjoy the tangy summer breezes on her skin and the distant sound of ocean waves. Their sleeping porch was one of her favorite places.
He snuggled her in a little closer. “Are we finally done blowing off all that extra steam of yours?”
She blushed. “I think so. Sorry, I’m not usually quite so demanding.” Obviously the rumors about some of the side effects of magic were all too true.
He laughed. “Guy manual, page one. You never, ever have to be sorry for that. Save your apologies for Marcus—I think you’re going to need them.”
“He’ll live. At least we picked on someone our size.” It wasn’t lost on her that her first big act of magic had been one more suited to witchling troublemakers. She didn’t care. It had felt… magnificent.
“I hardly expected you to start torturing small children,” Aaron said dryly. “Although Lizzie would probably think so if you dressed her up as a princess.”
“By rights, I should have done it to Sean, to make up for that pirate stunt he pulled.”
Aaron stroked her hair. “I never did get to see that. Maybe I can bribe him into a repeat performance.”
She elbowed him, mostly in jest. “He doesn’t need any more encouragement. After today’s escapades, the witchlings are going to be on the rampage.”
“Yes, they are. I’ve set up the picnic tables so we can eat outside tomorrow.”
“Trying to keep them out of the inn, are you?” Her husband was a smart man. Witchling practical jokes could be really messy.
“Darn straight. And I expect some folks will start arriving for the gathering, so that way it’s easier to feed whoever shows up.”
“You know it’s not your job to feed everyone, right?”
“It’s my pleasure; you know that.” He grinned and fed her a strawberry. It was luscious—dripping goodness with a chaser of chocolate. “Besides, the fridge downstairs is stuffed full of food people have been dropping by all day, and Lizzie’s parents are going to do a lobster bake on the beach tomorrow night. It’s not all on me; there’s plenty of help.”
“Good.” Elorie yawned. As her magic-induced high slowly wore off, she was sinking into the serious exhaustion underneath.
Aaron kissed her head. “Big day. You should get some sleep. The weekend’s going to be busy.”
No kidding. Throngs of people, never-ending food, and the shared joy of magic. It was the kind of busy she loved most.
Her husband settled a hand on her belly. “If we made a baby with all that energy, I bet she’ll be one very active little girl.”
A baby. In the aftermath of their magical escapades, she’d forgotten to tell Aaron something important. “We’re not the only ones. I think Sophie and Mike are getting really serious. He gave her a daffodil.”
Aaron tugged her hair. “Translate, please. That’s not covered in the guy manual.”
She giggled. “It means we may not be the only ones trying to make a baby tonight.”
His chest rumbled with laughter under her ear. “Moira will be thrilled.”
As she slid into sleep, Elorie made a mental note to ask Sophie about magic and babies. She couldn’t ask Gran—she’d never hear the end of it.