A Hidden Witch

A Hidden Witch-by Debora Geary

Chapter 1

It wasn’t the first time in her life Elorie had wished for magic of her own, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

“Sean James O’Reilly, you’ll be walking the plank, matey.” The illusion spell that had just turned her into a pirate came complete with growly voice and glinting teeth, so all she accomplished was sending Sean and his two classmates into hysterics.

She couldn’t really blame him—witch history lessons tended to be a little long-winded. Gran had dealt with plenty of witchling pranks in her years of teaching, but she’d also had enough power to magically counteract the more embarrassing stunts.

Elorie was not so blessed, but there was more than one way to handle a ten-year-old boy. She walked over to the bookshelf in the corner of her living room and pulled out the thickest volume of witch history she could find. The Trials and Tribulations of Edward C. Millgibbons, Hedgewitch, on his Journeys about the Countryside. That seemed like a suitable weapon.

She set the tome down on her coffee table, pulled out a piece of paper, and began to write in large letters. HOMEWORK. Then she looked at the book, looked at Sean, and let loose an evil pirate laugh.

Sean looked at the book in horror. “You can’t give us homework, Aunt Elorie. It’s summer!”

His twin brother, Kevin, looked at the book with interest. That figured. He was probably out of stuff to read again. She’d slip him the book on the sly later, after it had done its job in encouraging Sean to rethink his spell. Elorie put on her best pirate scowl and tapped the paper with her hook. Nice touch, the hook—very realistic. Sean’s spells were improving nicely.

Six-year-old Lizzie was no dummy. “You better turn her back into a regular person, Sean. Momma says girls don’t get mad—we get even.”

Out of the mouths of babes, Elorie thought.

Sean was beginning to look concerned. “There might be a little problem with that.”

Uh, oh.

Kevin shook his head. “You don’t know how to reverse it, do you?” He punched his brother in the shoulder. “Idiot. I’ll go find the spell workbook.”

Lizzie hopped down from the couch. “That will take too long. I’ll go get Granny Moira.” Lizzie was at least one generation and a couple of cousins removed from being Moira’s actual granddaughter, but in the Nova Scotia witching community, those were minor details.

Moira was matriarch and witch historian. And while she had a not-so-secret soft spot for witch pranksters, her tolerance for poor magical judgment was a lot smaller. Sean was right to look concerned.

Elorie went to put a kettle on the stove. Gran would want some tea. She also took a moment to look in the mirror. It wasn’t every day you had a grizzly beard and an eye patch. She grinned at her reflection and headed back to the living room just in time to see Lizzie bound in the door, Gran following more sedately behind her.

Elorie kissed Gran’s cheek. “Thanks for coming.”

Moira giggled like a small girl. “Is that you, Elorie dear? I assume young Sean is responsible. Lizzie said he’s having a wee problem reversing the spell.”

“Aye, matey,” Elorie growled, and then added more quietly, “and sweating about it now.”

“A bit late for that.” Moira headed into the living room.

Sean was sitting on the couch beside Kevin and looking very subdued. “Hi, Gran. I think I need help. I didn’t mean to turn Aunt Elorie into a pirate.”

That earned him dubious stares from everyone in the room. “Well, I didn’t mean for her to get stuck that way. I just wanted to do it for a minute, but I must have goofed somewhere.”

Moira looked at him sternly. “What’s the first rule of magic, Sean O’Reilly?”

“Do no harm.” Sean hung his head and missed the twinkle in Moira’s eyes.

“And what do you think life would be like for Elorie if she were a pirate forever?”

Sean looked forlorn. “Well, it would be hard to make her jewelry with a hook for a hand, and Uncle Aaron might not want to live with a pirate.”

Elorie thought Sean underestimated her husband’s fondness for the absurd. She also hoped Gran was about done torturing the poor boy—the eye patch was getting itchy.

Moira sat down beside Sean. “So, tell me how you set the spell, and we’ll see about how you might undo it.”

“Can’t you just fix it, Granny Moira?” asked Lizzie.

Moira looked very serious. “No, my dear, I can’t. Sean here is quite talented at spellcasting, and I’m not strong enough to reverse his spell.” She laid a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “With power comes responsibility to use your magic wisely and with good judgment.”

Kevin, who had been scribbling furiously in a notebook, looked up. “I think I know what he needs to do.”

Both Moira and Elorie nodded with approval—it was good for witches to develop a strong sense of communal responsibility. Kevin laid his book on the coffee table. He’d drawn some sort of complicated flow chart. Elorie’s eyes crossed just looking at it.

Kevin and Sean started talking and gesturing in some sort of incomprehensible twin-speak. Lizzie sat in Moira’s lap and played with her antique pendant. Finally Sean looked up. “Okay, I think I know what I need to do now, but we’re gonna need a circle.”

Moira rubbed his head. “Indeed. It often takes more power to undo a spell than to cast it in the first place. Best you be remembering that. Shall I be joining your circle, then?”

“Yes, please.” Sean’s face shone with pleasure, and Elorie felt the same in her heart. It was a rare thing for Gran to join a training circle these days. They all tried to pretend she wasn’t getting old.

Their circle assembled with the ease of long practice, and called to the elements. They pushed power to Sean and held it steady for him to start casting the reversing spell. Everyday magic at work.

Elorie watched from outside the circle, feeling the usual small ache of exclusion. The sense of accomplishment was newer. She’d almost entirely taken over Gran’s role coordinating witchling training in their little corner of the world. The next generation was coming along very nicely, and she could be proud of her part in making it happen. It had taken a while to find her purpose and make peace with it, but she’d found her way to belong.

As she watched, Sean’s fingers began to flutter, and she knew his spell reached readiness. A slight shimmer in front of her eyes, and she assumed from Lizzie’s grin that her pirate self had been replaced by plain old Elorie.

The kettle in the kitchen started to whistle. “Sean and Kevin, go make Gran some tea. Lizzie, you can get cookies out of the tin for everyone.”

The witchlings scampered off, and Moira winked at Elorie. “That’s a nice bit of spellcasting by our Sean, and some lovely circle work as well.”

Elorie grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

~ ~ ~

Moira smiled as she walked back into her cottage. Elorie was a wonderful witchling trainer. Others in the community could handle the training of specific magics, but Elorie was the glue that held it all together. It was a true shame her granddaughter had no power—she would have handled it well, with respect and a solid sense of tradition. Too many modern witches forgot their roots.

Aye, and old witches resisted using modern tools as well. Moira laughed gently at herself. She sat down in front of her laptop and made the now-familiar clicks that would take her to Witches’ Chat. Young Sean’s antics had delayed her a few moments, and Nell and Sophie were likely already waiting.

“I seek the ones who share my gifts,

To talk, to learn.

This portal will my power discern,

And let me in, as one of three.

As I will, so mote it be.”

Sophie: Aunt Moira, welcome!

Moira: Hello to you, Sophie, and Nell as well. I’m sorry I’m a wee bit late—we had a spell that needed reversing.

Nell: Uh, oh…

Moira: Just witchling pranks. Young Sean cast a pirate illusion on Elorie. It was quite good, actually—she looked and sounded quite ferocious.

Sophie: He’s got plenty of talent.

Moira: Indeed he does, and we haven’t anyone who can keep pace with him for long. I have an idea to propose to you, Nell.

Nell: I’m all ears.

Moira: How would you feel about bringing some of your young ones on a little trip this summer? I’m thinking we could have a bit of a summer gathering and do some intensive witchling training. Sean could use some lessons from a talented spellcaster—you’d be perfect for that job.

Nell: Sure, give me the troublemakers :-)… Nathan has a pretty busy summer, but I could definitely bring the girls and Aervyn. Let me figure out when we might be able to make the trip.

Moira: That would be lovely. It’s an open invitation—anyone who would like to join you is welcome, including you, Sophie. Elorie’s thinking about starting a website to sell her jewelry; I know she’d love to borrow a bit of your expertise.

Sophie: She’s welcome to create her own site, but I’d be delighted to sell her work on mine. There’s certainly magic in all that sea glass she collects, and it would be a nice expansion of my current wares.

Moira: It would be a joy to see my girls working together again.

Sophie: One step at a time, Aunt Moira.

Moira: Just tucking a little seed into the dirt, my dear. There’s much love between the two of you yet, but I know it’s complicated.

Sophie: Consider it planted.

Nell: Speaking of your site, Sophie, I was thinking of a couple of enhancements to our fetching spell for Witches’ Chat.

Sophie: I thought it was working quite nicely. We’ve had some delightful witches join us in chat lately.

Nell: We have, but they’ve all been actively practicing witches. I was remembering back to when we pulled Lauren in, how she wasn’t aware she had power.

Moira: She’s been a wonderful addition to the witching community.

Nell: Exactly. I was thinking that maybe we want to find more like her.

Sophie: You’re a brave woman. Supposing we wanted to, how would we do that?

Nell: I looked at the power signatures of the witches we’ve been chatting with lately and compared them to Lauren’s early readings. Hers were strong, but much less disciplined.

Sophie: That would make sense—she’d had no training.

Nell: Right, and I think we can use that. I can tweak the spell to seek those with less-disciplined power traces. We’ll either find witches with less training, or those who aren’t aware of their gifts.

Moira: That was a little rocky last time around, Nell. It’s all turned out for the best, but I think we were fortunate Lauren didn’t slam the door in our faces.

Sophie: I agree, but it’s tempting—we know there’s a need for it. We’d definitely want to have someone on tap to go evaluate them, like Jamie did for Lauren. There’s a lot more to helping an untrained witch than simply finding her, and we didn’t have much of a plan last time.

Nell: The girls and I are working on a virtual scan so we could assess someone remotely, but we haven’t finished it yet. And Jamie isn’t free to travel this time—Nat’s been dealing with morning sickness, and I don’t think he’d want to leave her.

Sophie: Someone should have mentioned she was having trouble. I have a couple of crystals that will help, and I’ll blend her some tea.

Nell: That would be great, Sophie. I need to send Ginia out to train with you—we’re really short on healers here, and I’d love to know if she’s got that talent.

Sophie: With her earth power and affinity for plants, it wouldn’t surprise me at all.

Moira: Bring Ginia this summer, Nell. We’ve healers here, especially with Sophie coming to visit as well. If Ginia’s got healing talents, that’s just one more reason to gather in one place for a time.

Nell: A week attempting to laze on the beach sounds good to me. Just let me work out the logistics. In the meantime, should I tweak the fetching spell to find witches who aren’t actively practicing the craft, or leave it alone?

Moira: If we’re having ourselves a training gathering, then it seems like fortuitous timing to find someone who might be untrained.

Sophie: When can you have the spell adjusted, Nell?

Nell: I think the girls have been working on it in secret. There’s an encrypted folder on our network called Codename: Hidden Witch.

Sophie: Ginia’s turned into an awesome spellcoder. She’s kicking all our butts in Realm.

Nell: That’s my girl. I’ll see what they’ve got, but it wouldn’t surprise me if we’re ready to go in time for our regular chat tonight.

Moira: In that case, I’ll have myself a wee bit of dinner and talk to the both of you in a couple of hours.

~ ~ ~

Elorie could feel her hands cramping, and the natural light was getting dim enough that she had to squint to see the delicate silver wires she was twisting together. This particular piece of sea glass was one of her favorites, a brilliant blue that made her think of Venice.

Blues were the rarest of her beach finds and she hoarded them, only dipping into that jar when she wanted to make a particularly special piece. This was a necklace for Gran, and it didn’t come any more special than that. Gran shared her love for the history and resilience the sea glass represented.

Elorie liked to imagine the long life of each treasure she worked on. She held the bit of glass up in the dying light, studying its shape one more time. Perhaps this one had been part of a bottle sitting on the dressing table of a fine lady in Venice, or one crossing the Atlantic on a ship. It might have been tossed overboard, or the ship come to an untimely end. And then the broken pieces of glass had tumbled in the ocean waters, fighting with pebbles and sand to come to rest at last on a lonely Nova Scotia beach, perhaps waiting centuries for her eyes to find it.

Elorie made a mental note to have some friends over for dinner soon. Getting all misty-eyed about her glass was a sure sign she’d been too much of a hermit lately. It was for a good cause; she had a growing pile of gorgeous new work ready for the Art Fair in San Francisco.

It was rare for her to venture beyond the borders of her home province, but under Aaron’s gentle pressure, she’d submitted her designs to the continent’s most prestigious art show and been selected for one of their emerging artist slots. It was a high honor, and quite a bump in her nice, stable life.

Truth be told, it was rather terrifying.

Since the natural light was now entirely gone, she gave up trying to finalize the setting for Gran’s necklace and began to tidy her workspace. She always left one work-in-progress lying on her desk as inspiration for the next day. With a last touch to the jewel-blue glass, cooling now without her fingers to keep it warm, she started the more mundane tasks of organizing her tools and sweeping the floor.

Her laptop pinged with an incoming instant message, Aaron’s solution to having to leave the inn to get her attention. Seemed a little silly when a shout out the back door would work, but evidently she’d ignored one too many of those. Dinner was probably ready. She sat down at the computer to let him know she’d be up to the house shortly.

Nell: The spell is fetching someone now… her name is Elorie.

Sophie: Hello, Elorie, and welcome to Witches’ Chat. We’re delighted to have you join us!

Elorie: What a nice surprise! Hello Nell, Sophie. I’ve heard all about your chat room from Gran. I can’t stay for long—I was just about to let Aaron know I was on my way up for supper.

Moira: Hello, my sweet girl. It’s good to have you here, and a wee bit of a surprise, as well. Nell’s fetching spell must have misfired. We were looking for some new witches for our chat. Perhaps one of the students was on your computer earlier.

Elorie: That wouldn’t be a surprise. Kevin’s fascinated by anything electronic.

Nell: Hang on a minute; I’m looking at the code now. Sorry, Elorie—not sure what went wrong. It’s nice to “see” you again, however.

Sophie: Your show’s coming up soon, isn’t it?

Elorie: It is. I’ll be heading out in less than a week now. Nell, do you still have room for me to stay with you?

Nell: We always have room. If you want a little more quiet, though, Jamie and Nat would be happy to have you. Their house is starting to look pretty lived in, but it could use a guest or two to get rid of the new house smell.

Elorie: Either one is fine, and appreciated.

Nell: So, I hate to ask a dumb question, but the code for the fetching spell is getting a clear power reading on your end, Elorie.

Moira: Well, it can’t be from Elorie. If she were a witch, we’d have detected it long since.

Elorie: Maybe a student, then?

Nell: No, the spell is specific to an individual, not a computer. And it’s an untrained power signature again. Kevin’s had enough training that his would look more like the actively practicing witches we’ve been chatting with lately.

Elorie: I don’t understand what that means.

Nell: It means my code is suggesting you’re an untrained witch, but that doesn’t make any sense.

Sophie: Has anyone run a scan on you lately, Elorie?

Elorie: We both got scanned often enough growing up. You can’t possibly believe I’ve got magic now, Soph.

Sophie: I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I know it was hard for you then, and I’m really sorry we’ve managed to stick our finger in it again somehow.

Elorie: It was a long time ago, and no apologies needed. I’m happy your magic grew, and I stopped crying about the lack of mine a long time ago. And now I really do need to run—there are perogies for dinner, and I’m starving. Good night, all.

Sophie: Ouch.

Moira: Oh, dear.

Nell: I feel like we stepped in something there, and I don’t know the whole story. Anyone care to fill me in?

Moira: Elorie has always longed to be a witch, ever since she was a small girl. She hides it very well now, but I don’t know that she’s ever really grown out of it. I was so certain she would develop power that I wasn’t as careful as I might have been in helping her accept the alternatives.

Sophie: Non-witches are as welcome as any witch, Aunt Moira—you’ve always made sure of that.

Moira: Of course they are, but the magic has always called to her. Normally when a witchling has that kind of attraction to the craft, their powers emerge at some point, but hers never did. And it was doubly hard with her and Sophie being so close. You handle that beautifully with your triplets, Nell—I didn’t handle it nearly so well.

Nell: Not to ignore the history, but maybe she should be tested again. It sounds like she hasn’t been scanned in a while. I swear, my code says she’s a witch. Maybe your instincts weren’t wrong.

Sophie: She’s around practicing witches and active circle work all the time. It’s hard to believe she has stealth witching talents we’ve all failed to notice.

Nell: Yeah, active power streams usually make any nearby untrained talents pretty obvious.

Moira: It shames me somewhat to say it, but she’s been scanned much more recently than she knows. I stopped telling her when I do it, since it saddens her so, but it’s been no more than a few months since I last checked.

Sophie: And we’ve surely saddened her and you again tonight. I’m so sorry, Aunt Moira.

Nell: Crap. I’ll debug my code and try not to screw up again. Sorry—with the girls doing most of the work on this, I’ve obviously missed something. No excuses, but we’ll go through it with a fine-toothed comb tomorrow.

Moira: Not to worry. Aaron will tend to her heart; he’s a very good man.

Elorie closed the door of her studio and leaned against it, sucking in the brisk ocean air. No, dammit. She was not going to let this get to her. Teenagers got to cry about the powers they wanted and didn’t get. Grown women needed to make peace with the life they had.

She had a good one, and right now, it involved a big plate of perogies.