A Modern Witch

Chapter 22

Lauren sat at her dining table with a pint of Mud Pie ice cream. She’d decided Karamel Sutra wasn’t appropriate for four-year-olds.
Aervyn grinned from her laptop screen, his matching Mud Pie in a bowl. Nell had vetoed giving him the whole pint.
“It’s shiny and red and it goes really fast!” Aervyn was very excited about his new bike.
“Do you know how to stop it?”
Aervyn shrugged. “I’m a’posed to peddle backwards, but that’s hard to remember. If I’m gonna hit something, I just port—that’s easier.”
Lauren pointed her spoon at the monitor. “No cheating, little dude. You gotta learn that stopping stuff, or I’m going to be afraid to stand and watch when I come visit you.”
“I could port you, too.”
“What if your magic breaks one day and you don’t know how to stop? You’ll roll downhill all the way into the ocean, and then what?”
Aervyn giggled and tried to lick the ice cream off his chin. It was a losing battle. “Magic doesn’t break, silly. Besides, I know how to swim.”
Lauren wasn’t sure when she’d fallen in love with the ridiculous logic of a four-year-old, but video chatting with Aervyn was always the highlight of her day. She heard her front door open.
“Shhh,” she whispered. “Uncle Jamie’s coming. If you’re really quiet, you can surprise him when he walks in.”
The silence was total. Lauren was really impressed until she realized he’d just hit the mute button. Punk child. When she heard Jamie’s footsteps behind her, she winked at Aervyn.
“Surprise, Uncle Jamie! It’s me, Aervyn!”
Jamie’s longing screamed into Lauren’s mind. Oh, crap. Never surprise a mind witch, even a pretty weak one. His barriers down, Jamie had broadcast everything he felt seeing his nephew’s face on-screen.
Lauren got up off her chair so Jamie could sit down. In just a few seconds, he was barriered and back to friendly Uncle Jamie, chatting with Aervyn and saying all the right things about the new bike. Four-year-olds had no problem repeating themselves.
Lauren turned toward the wall, tears in her eyes. She hadn’t known. Somehow, in all that had happened, she’d failed to really understand what Aervyn was to Jamie.
They were more father and son than uncle and nephew. Well, not really—Aervyn had a wonderful father already, and no shortage of other people who loved him deeply. But what Jamie felt for that small boy was fierce, and coming to Chicago had nearly ripped him in two.
She waited quietly while the video chat wrapped up and tried to decide how much she wanted to pry.
Jamie looked up. “You going to share that?”
Lauren handed over her ice cream. “You really miss him.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, you eat my ice cream, you talk in more than one-word sentences. House rule.”
Jamie’s smile didn’t make it all the way up his face. “I miss everyone, but yeah, especially him. It’s different with a little guy, harder to stay connected without actually being there.”
“We’re going to visit in less than a week now.”
“I know.” Jamie paused and looked at the ice cream. Apparently, Mud Pie didn’t cure everything. “He was telling me how his training’s going. Jennie’s doing some mind stuff with him. That’s a good thing. We probably focused too much on elementals and spellcasting when I worked with him.”
Missing his trainee, too. “It’s what you’re best at, right? So that makes sense.”
“It was fun, that’s all. Aervyn’s got power to burn, and we could do all kinds of things you can’t do with most trainee witches. Heck, with most any witch. I miss that, too.” He looked up at Lauren. “Do you miss doing magic with him?”
Lauren wasn’t sure whether to offer up truth or comfort. “Some. But honestly, it was a pretty crazy week in California. It’s been nice just to coast for a while, try to put my life back together.”
Jamie nodded. “It can get intense even if you grew up there. That’s when I used to take my motorbike down to Carmel.”
And dammit, thought Lauren, just one more whack on a homesick guy’s skull. Time to change the subject. “Want to go to a coven meeting tonight?”
Jamie looked like she’d suggested an orgy. “You want to join a coven?”
“I don’t even know what a coven is, exactly. My mental picture involves stirring cauldrons and reciting lines from Shakespeare, but I’m guessing that’s not any more accurate than anything else I learned about witches in school.”
“In theory, a coven is just a group of witches working together.” Jamie looked pained.
“In practice?”
“In practice, it tends to be really heavy on ritual, really light on actual magic.”
Lauren thought back to the full circle at Ocean’s Reach. “Unlike campfire sing-a-longs by the ocean.” She had very fond memories of roasting marshmallows deep into the night and carrying a sleeping Aervyn back to the car.
“We’re pretty minimalist with our rituals in California. Moira’s family is a little more traditional, a bit more grounded in the history of the craft.”
Lauren had a crystal-clear picture of what Jamie had looked like calling air, hands to the sky and wind whipping his hair. Every inch a witch, minimalist rituals or not. “But a coven is different?”
Jamie hesitated. “I shouldn’t make assumptions. I’ve run into too many who join a coven, brew a love potion, and call themselves a witch.”
Lauren laughed and handed over the business card for Witchery. “Bingo.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Where’d you get this?”
“I was practicing mind nudging at the Garden Show yesterday. The woman who gave me this copped to what I was doing.”
“You got caught?” Jamie scooped some ice cream.
“I don’t know how much she picked up on, but obviously something. She tried to scan me. Jennie would have given her extra practice for how sloppy it was, but she was clearly a mind witch. Called herself an empath.”
“Terrific. Just what Chicago needs—a poorly trained empath on the loose.”
Lauren grinned. “She invited me to her coven meeting tonight. I think you should come with me.”
“Stay here and eat ice cream. Trust me.”
If it got Jamie’s mind off Aervyn, it was worth the field trip. “I’ll pick you up after work. I’ll even feed you first.”
“Come do Nat’s afternoon class with me. If I have to suffer through backbends and hip openers, you should too—hip openers should be illegal. Then we can all have dinner together and come back here to watch a movie.”
“Nice try, and I agree with you on the hip openers. Class, dinner, and then we’ll send Nat home and go check out the coven.” She winked at Jamie. “They’ll love you. Apparently they need an air witch for their circle.”
He groaned and held up the ice cream. “Got any more of this? I deserve more if I have to deal with amateurs.”
Lauren walked to the kitchen. “I have Karamel Sutra, babe.”
…

The afternoon intermediate class at Spirit Yoga was packed to the rafters. Lauren had no idea how Nat managed to walk between the mats. If someone fell over in tree pose, they were going to take down half the room.
She and Jamie were communing in the back row with all the other yoga delinquents. Form and flexibility definitely improved as you got closer to the front of the room.
However, Jamie didn’t look lost anymore, and when Nat said “triangle pose” or “downward dog,” he moved along with everyone else. You only improved that much in three weeks when you did yoga every day. That was love for you.
It wasn’t until they hit the dreaded hip openers that Jamie started to show signs of rebellion. Lauren tried the minimalist approach—look like you’re working hard.
Nat wasn’t as gullible as her high school history teacher, unfortunately. Either that or she knew better than to leave the back row to their own devices during hip openers. Under her steady eye, even Jamie managed to find some room in his pelvis, whatever that meant.
A few minutes of lying on their backs in dead man’s pose, at which the back row excelled, and class emptied out. Jamie and Lauren stood with Nat as people headed out the door to food, home, and slumping on the couch.
“That was a huge class, Nat,” said Lauren.
Nat looked slightly worried. “I know. I’m not entirely sure what to do about it. That kind of crowding isn’t really the best environment for yoga.”
“It’s easier not to fall over in balance poses,” Jamie said. “Always somebody to hold on to.”
Nat laughed. “Cheater. You back-row types are incorrigible.”
Jamie poked Nat in the ribs. “What, did you eat a dictionary?”
Close, thought Lauren, and wondered how many yoga teachers had graduated with a 4.0 in English lit and linguistics. “You could move to a bigger space. I can get listings from the commercial guy at my office if you want to look at some possibilities.”
Nat sighed. “It’s either that or offer more classes, but our schedule is already pretty packed. All the after-work classes are like this now. A couple of days ago, I had to share mats and do partner yoga all class, because we couldn’t fit everyone in any other way.”
“So, consider a bigger space,” Jamie said. “Lauren’s right—that’s the obvious next step.”
Nat looked around the studio. “It would be so hard to part with this place. Lauren, do you remember when we first came to check it out?”
“Yeah. The monthly rent nearly made you throw up, but it was the right location.”
“So you drilled into my head. And obviously, you were right.”
Lauren grinned. “I told you so.”
Nat looked at Jamie. “That’s how Lauren got her first job. She impressed the agent when she talked me into this place. In a way, we both got our start here.”
“If it matters,” Jamie said, “then keep it. Open a second location instead of moving.”
Jamie really gets her, thought Lauren. His nonchalant confidence would chase away the self-doubt Nat sometimes still pulled out from under her childhood bed.
“I don’t need to decide right now,” Nat said. “Lauren, can you find a few places near here to check out?”
“Sure thing. I know one that’s vacant. We can probably do that one tomorrow morning, if you want.”
Nat nodded, and reached for Jamie’s hand. “Just tell us where and when.”
It was really serious, if Nat was bringing him shopping for a new studio. She’d been keeping a bit of an eye out for Jamie’s precog house. It sounded like it might be time to start paying closer attention.
She’d do some research later. Right now, they needed food before heading off to amateur witches’ night.
…

It might not be awful. Sure, and snails might taste good if you gave them fancy French names. Jamie had no idea how he was letting Lauren drag him to some coven meeting. She’d obviously caught him at a very weak moment.
He actually didn’t have a lot of experience with covens. One very earnest group had tried to recruit him at university, but in general, covens didn’t do a lot of outreach.
Intellectually, he understood that not every witch had the benefit of growing up in a family where power was more common than freckles. He wasn’t a solitary witch; the teamwork of circles was far too ingrained in him. Teamwork with strangers was a different matter, however.
As they approached the Witchery shop front, he eyed the front window. There were the expected displays of books and crystals and a really crusty old cauldron. He didn’t want to know what nasty science experiments it had brewed. He only knew one witch with a cauldron, and hers was copper-bottomed and kept pristinely clean. Moira would never tolerate a dirty tool.
Lauren snickered beside him and pointed. There was a bubbling red lava-lamp-meets-test-tube thing surrounded by several bottles labeled Love Potion.
He tried to appeal to Lauren’s reason one more time. “We can still walk away.”
She only grinned and tightened her grip on his arm. “It will be fun. Maybe I’ll get me some love potion, too.”
Crap. Why did the girls always fall for that stuff? He pulled on the door and nothing happened. Excellent. Maybe they had the wrong night.
“Are you here for the coven meeting?” The woman who had spoken was about a foot shorter than he was and dressed in a long, blue cloak.
“We are,” Lauren said. “I met a woman yesterday who invited me. I didn’t get her name, but she’s an empath.”
“That would be Liriel. I’m Beth, fire witch and coven leader.” She shrugged a shoulder at Jamie. “Who’s he?”
“A friend of mine.”
“We don’t include non-witches in our rituals. I’m sorry.”
“He’s a witch,” Lauren said.
Beth looked him up and down. “Can you prove that?” she asked. “Normally someone has to vouch for your magic before you can join a meeting. Someone who’s already a member.”
Jamie stomped his cold toes on the ground. Seriously, could no one in this group do a simple power scan? Freaking amateurs. However, he didn’t want to freeze to death. Fire witch, she’d said. He grabbed a quick line of power and produced a small globe in his palm. “Will that do?”
He could feel Beth’s shock. “You can do that without preparation?”
Definitely amateurs. It was a spell any of his fire-talented trainees mastered within a few weeks. “I can. Is it good enough to get us in out of the cold?”
Beth looked confused. “It’s a pretty nice night, but yeah, come on in.”
There were five other people waiting inside, including a woman in black who greeted Lauren. That must be Liriel.
Beth spoke. “Lauren is the empath Liriel told us about. She brought a friend with her. This is Jamie, and he has fire magic. I vouch for him.” That apparently satisfied the group.
Beth quickly introduced the others. As Jamie shook hands, he did a quick scan. If he had to hang out in the same room with amateurs, he at least wanted to know what he was dealing with.
Beth had the strongest elemental powers, fire and a little water. Two others had very minor power, one with water, one with earth. Liriel had only mind magic. The last two had no magic he could detect.
He sent a carefully aimed query at Lauren. Any besides Liriel have mind magic? Lauren shook her head. Terrific. One witch of decent strength but questionable training, three weak witches, and two non-witches. There were so many ways this could end badly.
Beth looked at Jamie. “We were planning to do some circle work tonight. Which elements do you handle? Obviously you do fire, but if there’s a second element you can work with, that would be preferable.”
He deserved a medal of bravery for this. Jamie shrugged. “It looks like you’re missing air, so I can take that. Lauren’s a channeler.”
Five blank faces. Only Beth seemed to at least know what he was talking about. “I’ve heard about some circle work on the coasts that uses a person to channel the circle—is that what you mean?”
Close enough. “Yeah. If you don’t use a channeler, though, maybe put Lauren on monitoring with Liriel.” She should be out of the line of fire there.
Throttle down, girl, he sent to Lauren. You can’t channel if she can’t spellcast. Let’s see what they can do first.
Apparently that jived with Beth’s plans. She led the group into an empty back room, and they formed a circle. Jamie considered pointing out the flaws in their organization, and then just kept his mouth shut.
The woman with water talents stood at the position for earth, along with the man who really did have some earth magic. The two women with no magic stood in the water position.
Jamie did some fast and very quiet spellwork and threw up a trainee circle around the group. With a fire witch in charge of a motley circle, anything could happen.
He watched as the circle ritual began. In Beth’s favor, she wasn’t a frilly witch. They called to the elements and got on with business. When it was time to call air, Jamie grabbed only a tiny tendril. He didn’t want to bruise anyone’s circuits.
To his spellcaster eyes, Beth struggled mightily to weave together errant strings of power. Water came from the woman on the wrong side of the circle, the man with earth magic was too weak to connect to anyone, and the two with no magic caused a large gap in the circle’s currents.
With nothing better to do, he sent a mind link to Lauren so she could see what was happening. I told you so. To her credit, she was appropriately horrified.
For a witch with poor training and a fairly useless circle, Beth did more than he’d expected. She lit two candles and almost got a third.
When she released the circle, the last thing he expected was the group dance of victory. It took a moment to make sense of the clamor, but apparently they’d never managed to light more than one candle before. Two was huge, and Beth was aware she’d almost made that three.
They’re trying, Lauren sent. You could help them.
You owe me, he sent back. Big. She was right, however. He’d grown up with a deep sense of communal responsibility for witches in need of training. “Beth, I think you might find it helpful to make some changes in your circle.”
Beth was still high from her candle-lighting prowess. “What changes?”
“You’ve got some people in the wrong places, and a couple of you don’t have elemental magic.”
And oh, shit, that hadn’t been very tactful. Beth held up a hand to prevent mutiny. “How do you know?”
He hoped Lauren was exuding confidence in his abilities right about now. He could use the help. “I train witches. There’s a basic scan you can do to assess elemental power.”
Jamie started pointing to people. “You have water power, not earth. You’re pushing water energy from the wrong side of the circle, and that’s unbalancing things. You two, I don’t detect any power. That’s causing a gap in the circle’s flow. Beth, you’ve got decent power, but you’re having to work too hard to hold the circle together, and you don’t have much leftover for the spell.”
One of the women he’d just de-witched looked ready to break him. “How dare you walk in to this coven, where I’ve been a member for ten years, and say I’m not a witch?”
Jamie tried again. “All I’m saying is what I detected. If it’s a stronger circle you want, then you have people with real earth, fire, and water magic, and for today at least, me on air. I can walk you through a basic circle-training exercise, if you like. Beth, you’d need to let me take the lead, but I can set up a mind channel so you can see what I’m doing.”
Protest was immediate and loud. Lauren pushed at him, hard. Jamie, you need to show them.
Fine. Jamie swung in a circle, mostly for show, and lit every candle in the room. Awe was immediate, and very quiet.
Finally Beth spoke up. “Show us.” She and the other two moved into the new configuration Jamie had outlined.
More gently now, he walked them through a basic call to the elements and the most simple blending of power. He moved slowly, making each step distinct and clear in his mind for Beth’s benefit.
When he’d gathered as much power as he thought this baby circle could handle, he wove a simple spell, one used to entertain toddlers. Colored bubbles of light danced in the middle of the circle.
This time, when the circle released, no one moved. Jamie broke the silence. “Beth, did you follow all that?”
She nodded very slowly, still mute.
Jamie. Lauren’s mental voice was insistent. We need to go. Read the room.
Jamie did what he was told and mentally scanned the room. He didn’t have a fraction of Lauren’s power, but even he could feel the volatility under the silence.
The three who had been in his circle were caught in the afterglow of power beyond what they’d ever known. The other three were a tangle of awe and resentment. This coven meeting was about to get fairly explosive.
Lauren was right. Beth had work to do as coven leader, and his presence was only going to fuel the fire she was about to have to put out.
He got up to leave and stopped briefly beside Beth, handing her a card. “There are places you can go for training. Email me if you’re interested.”
He followed Lauren out of the building, more shaken than he wanted to admit. More potential than he’d expected, maybe. Just enough to make him really miss working in a competent circle.
There were plenty of witches who lived far away from the major witching centers and did just fine. He could learn to be one of them. He could.