A Reckless Witch

CHAPTER 4



Govin looked at the contents of the grocery bag he’d just unpacked. Potato salad, TJ’s favorite beer, two jars of Jamie’s world-famous spaghetti sauce, and three different kinds of cookies. Ooooh, boy.

He looked at Nell. “Awfully big bribe—what do you want?”

She grinned. “I come bearing an offer of help and assistance.”

“Sure you do,” he said dryly, taking a cookie. If TJ caught sight of them, they’d be gone before dinner. “Do you need me to give Aervyn weather lessons again?” Their last lesson had gone fine—until Aervyn had made a pet thunderstorm that followed him everywhere for a couple of weeks. Nell had not been impressed, and Govin hadn’t been able to reverse the spell. He could come close to matching superboy’s talents with fire, but his water and air talents were puny by comparison.

Nell rolled her eyes. “Not just yet, thanks. My house has finally dried out, and I think I’d like to keep it that way for a while.”

He waited patiently. Mothers of five couldn’t beat around the bush forever—they had too much to do.

“We’ve fetched a new witch. We’d like to assign her to work with you on the weather-spells library for WitchNet.”

“That sounds like you’d be doing me a favor.” He eyed the cookies. “What’s the catch?”

She sighed. “She’s eighteen and just coming out of foster care. Her name is Sierra. We don’t know much about her, but she’s Amelia Brighton’s daughter. And we suspect she’s a weather witch like her mama.”

That name sounded very familiar. Govin cast back in time, trying to make the connection. “The weather witch who ran off in the eighties? Claimed magic needed to be free? Disappeared a few years ago?”

Nell nodded. “Yeah. And according to Moira, the one who didn’t use enough safeguards in her spells and took lots of unnecessary risks.”

Govin winced. Those were scary qualities in a weather witch. “Was she any good?”

“Moira says she wasn’t strong enough to influence anything beyond very local weather patterns, so perhaps they didn’t work hard enough to convince her of the folly of her ways.”

He snorted. “Anyone who hangs out with Moira for a summer and still practices magic recklessly is irredeemable.” He had enormous respect and love for the woman who had been the driving force behind several generations of very well-trained witches. “We don’t know what happened to Amelia?”

“We didn’t even know she had a daughter.” Nell’s eyes were fierce, a mama bear on the prowl. “Putting aside for a moment how mad that makes me, she also likely taught her daughter magic.”

Now they were getting to the reason for the cookies. “And?”

She shrugged. “No one’s evaluated her yet, but her air talents are strong, and she insists on living near the ocean.”

Which practically guaranteed she worked with water, as well. And air plus water talents was the classic recipe for a weather witch. Govin spun around a jar of spaghetti sauce and thought for a minute. “So you want to assign me an intern for basic weather-spell work. An intern who’s motherless, powerful, and possibly dangerous.”

“Yup.” Nell didn’t say anything else, just held his gaze quietly. “You’re the best one to evaluate her, Govin. And if she has the power we suspect, the best one to help keep her and the rest of us safe.”

She’d once called him a weenie, cautious witch. Today that was apparently a good quality. “Can she spellcode?”

“Six years ago, when she was twelve, she reached the third witch-only level in Realm.” His old college roommate’s eyes held hints of pleading now.

He had no idea why—he’d have done it just because she asked, and they both knew it. “Well, that’s something. Another spellcoder would be handy. When does she start?”

Nell handed him a cookie. “She comes in on the train tomorrow. Why don’t you and TJ come over for dinner, and we’ll introduce you.”

Anyone who volunteered to feed TJ was a true friend. “We’ll be there.”

~ ~ ~

Devin shook his head. “Nell’s going to kill you, bro.”

Jamie grinned, watching the flight test in progress down the valley at Ocean’s Reach. “Nope. She gave us her blessing before we left. Aervyn’s been putting way too many holes in her walls with the end of his broomstick. At least out here, there’s not so much to run into.”

“Except for a big-ass rock.”

His brother winced. “He’s pretty good at porting out of the way. And hopefully the bike helmet will keep his head from getting too dented.”

It had taken a fair amount of discussion and an illusion spell to convince their nephew that real witches needed to wear bike helmets when they rode broomsticks. The pointy-hat illusion hadn’t survived high-speed flying, but Aervyn didn’t seem to care anymore.

He was too busy.

Hey, dude—slow down a little, okay? Jamie’s mental voice sounded a bit worried. It’s just like a bike—you have to be able to stop, too.

Aervyn turned and headed straight for them, cape flying. I can stop. Watch!

It was a serious act of uncle courage for Devin to hold still while a broomstick flew at his head at forty miles an hour. And basic survival instinct to get out of the way when his nephew’s brakes lacked a little in the way of precision.

“Oops, sorry.” Aervyn giggled and held his broom out. “You want to try, Uncle Devin?”

Oh, man, did he ever. However, he lacked the right kinds of power. Aervyn was basically flying by slingshotting himself against a complicated mix of air updrafts and gravity pulls. “I don’t think water magic’s much good for flying, superdude.”

That caused a moment of silence, and then the offer of the broom again. “I can fly you, I think. Just don’t lean over too far—that makes it kinda tippy.”

Who could refuse an offer like that? Devin swung his leg over the broom. “Start low and slow, okay?” There was adventurous, and then there was suicidal.

The next few minutes considerably lifted his respect for both big-ass rocks and Aervyn’s magical talent. He leaned over the broom as it winged across the valley toward the ocean, wind whipping his hair and power streams calling to his magic. This was living—small-boy dreams wrapped up in big-boy speed.

He pulled up on the front of the broom. This thing had to be able to do a loop-de-loop. It started out well—and then he felt the broom break.

When shit happened and you only had one kind of magic, you used it. Hard. Even if it was totally sucky for the job at hand. Devin grabbed powerful lines of water magic from deep in the ocean and pulled. The mighty energies of the ocean pulled back, arrowing him the hundred feet forward he needed to hurtle over the edge of the cliff.

He curled into a ball, readying for a hard water landing—and felt his butt thunk onto hard rock instead.

Jamie rubbed his nephew’s head and snickered. “Nice catch, kiddo. I say you should have let him land in the ocean first, though.”

“That would’ve been kind of cold.” Aervyn looked sadly at the two pieces of broom in his hand. “We better get Mama a new one, I think.”

Devin felt about two inches tall. Nothing like breaking a kid’s favorite new toy to make you feel like the world’s lousiest uncle. He pondered for a minute. Water power sucked for fixing things, but there had to be a way…

He took the two pieces of broom and twisted them together until he found a tight fit. “Hey, hot stuff—I have a picture in my head of how to fix this. Can you take a look?”

Aervyn nodded, and Devin felt the incoming click of mindlink. Two clicks—obviously his brother was looking too. Their matching grins suggested the idea was a decent one. Which was good, since Devin had none of the magic required to actually get the job done. The two of them should be able to do it, though.

You’ve been gone too long, Jamie sent. He’ll get it done all on his own.

That rocked Devin. He knew his nephew was very talented—they all did. But this kind of cellular weaving was a spell that would normally require a full circle.

Watch and learn.

Devin bootstrapped onto Jamie’s mind connection—a trick they’d figured out as small boys—and watched his nephew build a spell. In ten seconds, he was impressed. In thirty, he felt something akin to awe. Aervyn wove delicate streams of earth power into a very tight funnel, and then stretched down into the earth and tapped a small aluminum deposit.

When he tied off the spell and opened his eyes, the broom was sheathed in a very thin, very strong layer of metal. Devin had seen the metal strands lace right into the wood of the broom. It would handle loop-de-loops—and probably a flight to the moon, too. It was now one very over-engineered broom.

Aervyn stroked the shiny metal and grinned. “Thanks, Uncle Devin. That was the awesomest idea. Wanna try flying again?”

Yeesh. Break the kid’s broom and he still wanted to give you the next turn. “You go first, superboy. And watch out for the air currents near the water. I probably stirred them up a little trying to avoid my crash landing.”

A huge grin, and then one silver broom was off in flight, with one very loud and happy witchling holding on for dear life.

Jamie shook his head. “I don’t think he even needs the broom.”

“He’s got some incredible control. Real finesse, and not just on the flying. You’ve done an amazing job of training him.”

“When you’ve got that kind of power, control matters.”

Devin nodded, suddenly aware of exactly how much responsibility lay on his brother’s shoulders. “So does finding some freedom.”

Jamie grinned and ducked as Aervyn streaked by. “Yup. And the best things give him both.”

Devin laughed and clapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “You’ve got to give it a try when he gets back. It’s way better than a motorbike.”

“That’s heresy, dude.” Jamie’s eyes looked a little wistful as he watched Aervyn shoot back up the valley, cape streaming. “I think I’d better stay off the broom. Karma says I’d crack my head open, Nat would go into labor, and Mom would show up just in time to kill me.”

There was more than one responsibility lying on his brother’s shoulders. “More turns for me, then.”

Jamie punched his arm. “Next time, I’m letting him drop you in the ocean.”

~ ~ ~

Nell looked around their Realm hangout and grinned at Moira. “I feel really old.”

Moira grinned back. “It is feeling rather fertile in here, isn’t it?”

She looked over at the couches where Elorie, Sophie, and Nat sat with their feet up. Ginia was running through the basic prenatal checkup for each of them, her hands currently resting gently on Sophie’s belly. Her girl was growing up. “Ginia’s so excited to be part of the healer team for Nat’s birth.”

“She’s got a very steady mind for such a young witch. It won’t be too long before she could handle a birth on her own, if need arose.”

Nell was very grateful that would probably never be necessary. “With our new ability to shuttle healers through Realm, our witchlings won’t have to grow up quite so fast.” Healing talent came with heavy responsibilities, not all of them pleasant.

Moira reached for her hand. “She has so many people who love her. Whatever comes her way, you’ve rooted her well. She has a deep and generous heart, and a lovely sense of competence.”

“I know.” Nell smiled. “But it never hurts to hear it again.”

“You have wonderful instincts with your little ones.” Moira glanced at the couch again. “And Nat watches you carefully. I believe she knows what’s coming, at least as well as any non-witch can.”

“She’s not exactly getting an easy first baby.”

Moira chuckled. “A fire witchling who’s clearly coming into her power early? No, she certainly isn’t. But she also has many people who love her, and she knows how to nurture her own roots as well as anyone I know.”

“It’s changing Jamie.” And it was an odd experience, watching your baby brother take those steps.

“As it should. But he’s a man who knows exactly who he is. I don’t expect it will change him all that much.”

Nell grinned, oddly comforted. “He’s out giving broom-flying lessons to Aervyn.”

Lauren laughed behind them, having just beamed in. “I think it’s the other way around—Aervyn’s schooling Jamie and Devin. And if Aervyn’s mind-glee is any indication, they’re having a very good time.”

Nell raised an eyebrow. “You can hear them all the way from Ocean’s Reach?” She was a little envious.

Lauren pulled over a chair and shrugged. “Evidently so. The more circle work we do together, the further away I can hear him, at least when he’s got his barriers down. I think he’s been flying Devin around.”

Oy. “Only an idiot gets on a broom magically driven by a four-year-old.”

Moira giggled. “Devin’s always had the soul of an adventurer, dear.”

That was one way to put it. “You weren’t his big sister.”

“Don’t you worry.” Moira patted her hand. “One day soon, he’ll find himself a nice girl and settle down.”

Porky pink pigs would fly first. Nell wiggled an eyebrow at Lauren. “You interested? He’s tall, dark, handsome, and rich.”

Damn. Was Lauren actually blushing?

Moira’s eyes sparkled. “You’d make beautiful babies together.”

Lauren’s laughter bounced off the walls of Realm. “I think there are enough babies in the works at the moment, don’t you?”

Something odd tripped in Nell, just for a moment. Whatever it was got interrupted by Ginia’s call. “Mama, I think Auntie Nat’s baby is playing with fire again—can you come check?”

That was interesting—the baby had been very quiet lately, and her daughter didn’t have fire talent. “How can you tell?”

Ginia shook her head. “I don’t know, exactly. It just feels like something is shifting, kind of.”

That got everyone’s attention. Sophie moved over to sit beside Nat as well, laying her hands gently beside Ginia’s. A moment later, she looked up, frowning. “I can feel it too, but I don’t know what it is.” She looked at their apprentice healer with respect. “It’s really subtle—I’m impressed your scan is picking that up.”

Nell and Moira both moved in. Nat looked up at Lauren and grinned. “You might as well come too. My belly has plenty of real estate these days.” It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to position five set of hands on one baby, but they managed.

Nell shook her head first. “I don’t feel anything.” She laughed as the belly under her hands rippled. “Well, besides the kicks. Whatever it is, she’s not playing with elemental magics.”

Moira tilted her head. “I don’t feel it either, but my healing scans aren’t nearly as strong as Sophie’s.” She patted Ginia’s hand. “Or yours either, apparently. You do me very proud, sweet girl.”

The glow on her daughter’s face made Nell’s heart tilt a little.

Lauren’s breath of awe shifted all their attention. “She’s mindreading. I can hear your feelings echoed in her mind.” She frowned. “I’ve never noticed that before. And her head hurts, a lot.”

“Emergence headache.” Sophie leaned forward again, eyes intent. “That’s what you were feeling, Ginia. Help me clear her channels.”

Nell took her hands off Nat’s belly. Time to let the trained healers fix things. She spoke very quietly to Lauren. “The baby’s got mind powers?” Even Aervyn hadn’t come into mind magics that young.

“I think so.” Lauren nodded slowly. “And she’s picking up a lot. Too much, I think—my head would hurt if I was taking in so many other thoughts and feelings. Nat’s mind is most prominent, and that’s really soothing for her, but…”

Moira nodded. “You’ll need to teach her to barrier, then.”

Lauren frowned. “Nat?”

“No, sweetheart. Our newest little mind witch.”

“I’m supposed to give magic lessons to an unborn baby?”

Nell tried to stifle her giggles—Lauren looked totally gobsmacked. “Ask Jamie for ideas. He worked with Aervyn on some basic control over his elemental powers before he was born.” Not that it had worked all that well…

“We should have her channels cleared now.” Sophie looked up at Nat. “Ginia will be able to take care of that for you moving forward, and Jamie could probably do it in an emergency. It would be good to do at least once a day, at least until she’s born.” She grinned. “Or until Lauren teaches her how to barrier.”

Nat laughed and looked at her best friend. “I guess you’re starting your aunt duties early.”

Lauren still looked dazed. Nell snickered and leaned over toward Moira. “I guess that means we know at least one member of the birthing circle, then.”

Moira nodded sagely. “It’s a wise choice.” She patted Lauren’s hand. “You’ll do very well, my dear.”

Now Lauren looked utterly panicked. “Me? That’s insane. I’ve never had a baby. I’ve never even seen a baby born.”

Nat took her hand, highly amused. “Breathe deeply. I hear it’s supposed to help.”

~ ~ ~

It was always the same dream. Sierra yanked on power lines, fought the thick-as-water air that slowed her down. Faster. Her heart slammed in terror and the exertion of trying to move faster than the wind.

Fear. Awful, tearing fear. She wouldn’t get there in time. Hurtling over the ocean, skimming the swells, every cell in her body straining to reach the small rock in the middle of the water.

The tiny magical rock island where her mother stood, arms in the air, reveling in the storm building over her head. Playing with the lines of water and air, dancing in the heart of power unleashed.

And blind to the killing wave barreling in behind her.

Sierra raced the wave. She pleaded and begged and offered the wave her life in trade.

And she lost. She always lost.

Oh, Momma. I’m so sorry.