A Reckless Witch

CHAPTER 3



“Morning, everyone.” Sophie landed in the Realm meeting room, a tray of still-warm cinnamon buns in her hands. Judging by the kicks in her belly, even the baby could smell them. “Aaron had extras, or so he said.”

“Ha.” Moira reached out to take the tray. The handoff was a little tippy, but she managed to get it down to the coffee table. “He knows I can’t resist them, and someone must have told him licking my fingers afterward is good therapy.”

Sophie blushed, and Jamie laughed as he grabbed a cinnamon bun. “You’re so busted.”

Moira giggled. “Never try to fool an old healer, my dear.”

It was very satisfying to hear her clear and easy speech. Five months after her stroke, Aunt Moira still had some difficulty with fine-motor skills, but her mind and her speech were almost entirely back to normal. It had taken hundreds of hours of healing—and they’d had to fight off offers of more help.

“I learned everything I know from an old healer.” Sophie patted her belly, letting Seedling know food was on the way. “Including how to manage grumpy patients.”

Moira nodded, a twinkle in her eye. “I had to make sure Lizzie and Ginia got enough practice, didn’t I?”

Ha. The two girls were frighteningly competent healers now.

Nell laughed. “Aervyn had a sore throat last week, and he had no idea what hit him. Ginia had him in bed under a poultice in about ten seconds flat. Nat gives her a little more grief, though.”

Jamie grinned. “Someday people are going to figure out that my nice, sweet wife isn’t a pushover.”

It was Moira who got control of her giggles first. “None of us has ever believed that, my dear boy. Your Natalia is about as easy to push over as a small mountain.” She began the somewhat laborious process of licking cinnamon-y goodness off her fingers. “And we should send you back to her fairly soon—I don’t like a woman left alone this close to her birthing time.”

Sophie nodded. Time to get this meeting underway. “Nell, why don’t you tell us more about Sierra. Is she Amelia’s daughter?”

“She is.” Nell’s voice saddened. “And she’s pretty sure her mother must be dead.”

Sophie heard Moira’s sharp intake of breath, matching the dread in her own heart. “She doesn’t know for sure?”

“No. Amelia left Sierra alone in a hotel room during Mardi Gras and went back out to join the party.” Nell shook her head, eyes fiery. “I don’t understand how a mother could do that. I’m trying not to judge, but Sierra was just twelve.” Her voice cracked. “Can you imagine waking up alone in a strange hotel room and not knowing where your mama was?”

Sophie tried not to shudder as a bolt of fear shot through her. “Amelia never came back?”

Nell shook her head mutely.

“Something must have happened to her, then.” Moira’s voice was soft and sad, but she didn’t seem surprised. “Amelia was rash and took far too many risks, but I can’t believe she’d abandon her own daughter.”

Nell looked surprised. “Did you know her well?”

Moira shrugged. “As a girl, yes. She came to witch school for several summers, along with her older brother. He had a stitch of earth power, but little else. She was a moderately talented weather witch.”

All Sophie could remember was a laughing older girl her first year of witch school.

Sighing, Moira reached for a second cinnamon bun. “As you know, I’m a firm believer in being cautious with magic, and we try to impart that to all our witchlings. We were singularly unsuccessful with Amelia. She did magic on a tightrope, no net in sight.”

Taking unnecessary risks with magic was anathema to most witches. “Was she dangerous?”

“Not intentionally.” Moira’s eyes were sad again. “But accidentally—yes. She was reckless, and she could easily have brought harm to herself or others. We’d hoped that would temper over time. I rarely saw her after her teenage years, but I never got the sense her recklessness had waned.”

Sophie closed her eyes and tried not to judge. It was exceedingly hard, especially if a child had been left orphaned as a result.

“Amelia was a weather witch?” Nell sounded pensive. “Sierra might be as well. Given her desire to live by the ocean, I assume she’s a water witch. She’s definitely got air talents—she duplicated my soundproofing spell with impressive ease.”

Jamie frowned. “Your layering one? That’s pretty tricky spellcasting, sister mine.”

The room was silent as the implications sank in. Sophie winced and shifted as a foot poked up under her ribs. “It sounds like we need to assess her, no? And figure out where her training is at?”

“Aye.” Moira leaned forward, every inch the witch matriarch. “If she’s been taught by Amelia’s hand, we need to know how much power she has, and how much respect for doing magic safely.”

Nell shook her head. “I don’t mean to disagree with you—I think that’s important. I don’t want a dangerous witch on the loose any more than you do. But first we have a lonely teenager who needs a job and a place to go in three days. Let’s get her down here. Then we can worry about any holes in her training.”

Every head in the room was nodding when she finished.

“A job’s not a problem.” Jamie shrugged. “With regular Realm stuff and WitchNet, we’ll find her something to do. If she might be a weather witch, and she’s a decent coder…” he trailed off, clearly thinking the next steps through. “Maybe we should hook her up with Govin. He could use some help on the basic weather-spells library, and that might give us a good sense of her skills without being too intrusive.”

Sophie nodded. Govin was a very smart witch, and one of the nicest guys she knew.

Nell snorted as Jamie looked her way. “What—I suppose you want me to tell him he’s getting a teenage apprentice?”

“You were his college roomie.” Jamie held up half his cinnamon bun. “I offer compensation.”

Nell grabbed the tray, still holding half a dozen of the sticky treats. “It’s him we need to bribe, brother mine. Not me.”

Sophie was feeling a bit like a fifth wheel. “Is there any way we can help?”

Nell started to shake her head, and then stopped. “Yeah, actually. Sierra’s going to need a place to live. She can stay with us for as long as she wants, but I’m guessing she’s going to want her own space. Eighteen and finally free of foster care and her caseworker…”

She needed a nest. Sophie grinned. “Can Lauren find her an apartment? I’ll head up the decorating team.”

“I have three assistants for you.” Nell stood up, getting ready to transport back home. “Keep her warm. Water witches get chilly during our cool nights here.”

“She’ll be needing a nice throw, then.” Moira nodded happily. “Elorie brought me some lovely blue yarn from Halifax last week. I’ll get right to work.”

Sophie tried very hard to keep a straight face as Nell’s wink sailed right over Moira’s head. Knitting was excellent physical therapy, and she’d been trying to get Aunt Moira to pick up her needles for months now. Nell Walker was a very sneaky witch.

~ ~ ~

Devin looked out the car window as they reached Nell’s neighborhood. He always thought of home as wherever his feet were, but there was an easy familiarity to these streets he appreciated. “Still no neighbors freaking out over Aervyn’s magic tricks?”

“Nope.” Nell shrugged. “People really do see what they want to see. Although if he gets this broomstick-flying thing down, we might have to have a little chat about daytime displays of magic.”

He tried to picture his nephew flying down the street on Nell’s kitchen broom and chuckled. “They’d probably just think they were having Harry Potter flashbacks or something.”

“We can always hope. So what held Matt up?”

His overgrown sense of responsibility. “He’s got a couple of teenagers in labor. We weren’t expecting them, and his relief doc doesn’t know a whole lot about delivering babies in the rain forest, so he’ll stay until they’re done and come in with Mom and Dad.”

Nell frowned. “Mom can deliver babies in her sleep.”

“Yup. But Matt was worried she might have to leave soon, if Ginia says Nat’s gonna pop.”

“Trust me, nothing about Natalia Sullivan is going to pop, even when she gives birth.”

Devin shrugged. He liked Nat, but he had no idea how his brother had hooked up with someone so… calm. “They still doing okay?” Marriage was a rocky road for some, and they’d gotten married in kind of a hurry.

“Not everyone is as allergic to marriage as you are.” Nell put a hand on his arm, and her voice lost the teasing tone. “They’re awesome together. Jamie’s really happy, Dev.”

He nodded. “Good to know.” It really was—he wanted only the best for his brother, even if it seriously cut into their cross-country motorcycle trips.

Nell pulled her car up to the curb. “Prepare to be mobbed.”

He grinned. “Prepare to be invaded.”

He almost made it out of the car before three nieces landed in his lap. “Uncle Devin!”

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be in school or something?”

Mia giggled. “It’s Saturday, silly. We’re supposed to be coding, but Uncle Jamie let us escape long enough to drag you down to help.”

He wiggled his fingers. “Master coder, ready for action. Lead on, minions.” Laughing hands tugged him toward the house. Time to shake the rust off his coding skills, preferably before his nieces figured out he was badly out of practice.

Given what he’d seen of Ginia in Realm lately, he was probably in trouble.

Jamie stopped their small herd at the bottom of the basement stairs and gave Devin a quick hug. “Shh, guys. Aervyn and Lauren are working on something a bit tricky, so let’s not disturb their concentration, okay?”

Hey, Devin. Good to see you again. Lauren’s cheery mental voice didn’t sound overly occupied. Aervyn’s doing all the heavy lifting—I’m just holding things steady for him. We’ll be done in a minute.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been Nat’s maid of honor, and Matt had won the coin toss to escort her down the aisle. He’d assumed the slight itch he’d felt all that day had been related to the wedding. As he watched her doing magic with his nephew, it was pretty clear he’d been wrong.

The itch was back. And his brother’s wife’s best friend was way out of bounds for his usual love-’em-and-leave-’em routine.

Jamie punched him in the shoulder. Way out, dude. She’s not your type, anyhow. Boobs are too small, brains are too big.

You might want to save your discussion of my boobs until there are less people listening, sent Lauren dryly. Aervyn’s education on that front could stand to wait a few years.

Jamie winced. Sorry, I forgot I was monitoring the two of you.

Really. Lauren rolled her eyes and Aervyn shook with giggles, but they managed to close off the spell before totally falling apart.

Devin picked up his giggly nephew for a big bear hug. He also kept his eyes way, way off Lauren’s chest. “How’s it going, superboy?”

“I’m good, and I’m learning to fly on a broom.” Aervyn’s hearing aids flashed visible for a moment, a clear sign he was trying to whisper. “And I think Lauren’s boobs are pretty nice.”

Terrific. Now his three nieces joined Lauren in the puddle of laughter on the floor. Jamie sighed. “You’re not helping us out here, cutie. It’s not really nice manners to talk about that kind of stuff.”

Aervyn nodded solemnly. “It’s guy stuff, right? For just inside our heads.”

Devin, well used to being in hot water, caught Nell’s well-aimed pillow just before it pinged Jamie in the head. His sister still had her MVP pitching arm.

She’d stopped partway down the stairs. “Brownies in the kitchen for all people with boobs, and all boys too young to know any better. You big boys are out of luck.”

Aervyn debated which category he wanted to be in for a moment, but the lure of chocolate was strong. Jamie grinned at Devin as they were abandoned for sweeter pastures. “Welcome home.”

Man. In trouble in less than five minutes. It wasn’t a record, but it came pretty close. Devin grinned back. “Port us some of those brownies, and then you can fill me in on babies and Net power and whatever else I’ve missed.”

~ ~ ~

Sierra stared at the box on her bed, heart in her throat. It was about twice as big as a shoebox and wrapped in plain brown paper with Care Package—From Nell written on the top. It had landed on her bed about thirty seconds ago, like it had beamed in from outer space.

And it smelled like heaven.

She grinned and ripped off the paper. Whatever it was, her belly wanted some.

A whole plate of cookies sat right on top. Sierra had three of them down before she realized the box contained plenty of other stuff. Moving more slowly now, she lifted up the plate and contemplated the contents underneath. Four neatly wrapped packages and a big envelope that said Read This First. It was like Christmas.

The packages were seriously tempting, but she took another cookie and opened the envelope. A bus ticket, a hundred dollars, and a letter. She got up and quickly tucked the money in her tampon box, the one totally safe hiding place in her life. Then she opened the letter.

Dear Sierra,

If you’re like my daughters, you’re halfway through the plate of cookies, and you’ve opened the other packages already. No big deal—but it might all make more sense once you read this.

We have a job for you, working for WitchNet. That’s a Realm-related project you probably haven’t heard of yet, but it involves lots of spellcoding and working with other witches. We have a couple ideas of things you can help with, but we can talk about that more when you get here. There’s lots of work to be done, and my brother Jamie will appreciate the help.

My good friend Lauren is a real estate agent (and a witch). She’s found you a nice one-bedroom apartment about four blocks from the beach. You can stay with us until that’s ready for you in a few days. It’s a bit crazy here, but there’s lots of company and lots of food. You don’t need to move to the apartment at all if you don’t want to, but the choice is there if you want it. We thought you might enjoy your own space. Your salary at WitchNet should be enough to pay rent and live comfortably on your own.

There’s a second letter attached with an official job offer. I sent a copy to your caseworker, so hopefully that will take care of the paperwork. Let me know if we need to do anything else to bust you loose—one of the presents in the box will make contacting us easier :-).

You should also have couple of tickets in this envelope—for tomorrow, just like you asked. Take the bus to Eugene and then the train to San Francisco. Someone will pick you up at the train station. If you pack up your things and leave them by the side of your bed tonight, my teleporting witchling will grab those for you so you don’t need to lug them on the train. The money is to keep you fed until you get here.

I hope I haven’t forgotten anything important. We’re really looking forward to your arrival—there are a lot of people waiting to say hello.

See you tomorrow,

Nell

Sierra stared hard at the letter for a final moment, and then danced crazily around the room. Very quietly, so no one came to find out what all the noise was about. She kissed the tickets and tried to figure out where to put them—they were too big for her tampon box. Hmm.

But wait—there were more presents too. She dove for the box on the bed, yanking lime-green paper off the first package. Holy cats. She touched the iPhone with reverence. No freaking way. Foster-parent budgets had never extended to a cell phone, and this was the coolest phone ever.

The next package was a little bigger and contained a small photo album. Sierra opened it, puzzled, and found a picture of three identical girls, with a note written in purple, glittery pen. Dear Sierra—here are pictures of some of the people you’ll meet in Berkeley. You don’t have to remember who we all are, but we just wanted to say hi! Love Mia, Ginia, and Shay. She flipped the pages slowly. More than twenty pictures, and each had a little handwritten note saying hello.

Swallowing a lump, she turned to the last two packages. The first held a pair of beautiful wool gloves, knit in intricate patterns of blue and green. Sierra slipped her fingers into their cozy warmth. She didn’t know why, but they felt like the ocean. She opened the piece of paper sitting under the gloves and squinted, trying to decipher the crooked handwriting. Lovely Sierra—I hear that, like me, you’re a water witch, and I know my hands are always a bit chilled in the winter. I hope these will keep you warm. Much love from Nova Scotia, Moira. It was hard for her to take the gloves off to open the last package. Her hands were always cold.

The last package was small and light and smelled faintly of herbs. When Sierra took the lid off the small box inside, she found an ugly orange plastic frog hanging from a beautiful silver chain. Weird. She looked around for a note that might explain this last gift and found it written on the inside of the wrapping paper. Which was a serious bummer, because she’d pretty much torn the paper to shreds.

Carefully, she pieced the wrapping paper back together. This time, when she read the message, tears fell. Sweet Sierra. One day, when I was about eight and at witchling school for the summer, some of the older kids drove us all into Halifax for ice cream. Your mom was one of them—it was my first year at Aunt Moira’s, and Amelia’s last. I vividly remember the big gumball machine that dispensed treats and small plastic toys for a nickel. Your mom bought one for each of us. This little frog was mine—it’s been sitting in my jewelry box for a long time now. I thought you might like to have it. Love, Sophie.

Sierra’s hands shook as she clasped the little frog tightly. Oh, Momma.