by Debora Geary
When Sean held the mouse, Nell looked very surprised. “Sean, honey, are you a spellcaster?”
Sean brushed cookie crumbs off his face. “Gran says so, but I’ve only worked with small circles so far.”
Moira hadn’t lived this long without knowing some things weren’t meant for small ears. She picked up the plate of cookies. “Why don’t you three take the cookies into the garden and pick some nice, fresh flowers to brighten my table.”
When their voices grew faint, she turned back to Nell. “What are you seeing in our Sean?”
Nell frowned. “I can’t be sure of this part of the code—we haven’t done enough testing. But Sean has a big spike in the unknown powers category, which could be healing, casting, or something more rare.”
“I don’t think he’s a healer,” Sophie said. “I spent some time with Sean last summer, and he didn’t show any evidence of healing talent.”
Moira nodded. “I agree, and we’ve seen no signs of astral travel or precognition. He does very well with complex spells for a boy of ten, so we assume he’ll be a solid spellcaster.”
“His spike is almost as big as Jamie’s,” said Nell.
Oh, my, Moira thought. Jamie was a talented spellcaster at the peak of his powers. “That’s a little more than we thought we were dealing with. We haven’t a full circle’s worth of witches on hand at the moment, but the next time we do, perhaps we’ll test him in a bigger circle.”
“Maybe when we all come for witchling training this summer,” Sophie said. “With me and Nell, you’ll have enough, I think.”
“Jamie and Nat are going to stay here,” Nell said, “but Lauren would like to come. She’s turning into an able trainer—with her mindspeaking, she could guide Sean through the process of hooking into a full circle quite nicely.”
Moira’s heart warmed at the thought of seeing Lauren again. She’d developed such a fondness for their first “fetched” witch. And it was good to know they had a spellcaster of some considerable talent to train, even if the method of discovery had been a bit unorthodox.
She glanced toward Great Gran’s crystal ball, sitting in its usual place in the corner of the room. Perhaps if the darned thing had ever worked, they wouldn’t need all these new-fangled witch tools. The old ones could be a tad unreliable.
Ah, well. Witches made do with what they had. “That’s quite the pot your little scanning spell has stirred up, Nell. I’ll speak with Elorie about what we’ve discovered—she coordinates training for the young ones.”
“Do that.” Nell frowned. “And if it turns out the readings are right, we have a bigger mystery to solve.”
“And what’s that, dear?”
Sophie spoke gently. “The fetching spell said Elorie has power, Aunt Moira. If this new tool of Nell’s is accurate, she’ll need to be scanned again.”
Moira shook her head slowly. Her own power had reached out to Elorie in hope time and time again, but found no magic. It didn’t seem possible that a wee gadget could see what she couldn’t. “It will cause her pain, just in the asking.”
“I know,” Sophie said. “So let’s not go there just yet, and take one step at a time. Test Kevin first—see if he has mind magic. If he does, then we can think about the next step.”
“Aye. That much I can do. I’ll contact Marcus myself.” Moira turned at the sound of running footsteps down her hallway. “I’ll let you know what we find.”
“Blessed be, Aunt Moira.”
Chapter 3
Elorie shook her head at Kevin. “Nope. My favorite color’s not blue.”
Kevin scowled. “I think your brain looked a little blue.”
Elorie handed him a bowl of blueberries, still wet from a quick rinse after picking. “Maybe you’re just hungry. Why don’t we wait until Uncle Marcus gets here, and then you can try mindreading with someone who can help you?”
“I read about it all last night, ever since that computer test said I might have mind powers.”
There was just no keeping secrets from witchlings. “And how do you know that’s what the computer said? Weren’t you in the back yard eating cookies?”
Kevin shrugged. “I dunno. I just knew it.” Then his eyes got big. “Wait, I just knew it. Isn’t that a sign of developing mind powers? Picking up things you’re not supposed to know? I was just reading about that.”
He scrambled into his backpack for a book, but Elorie didn’t need a reference guide. Gran had known the results of the computer scan—and as a non-sensitive, she wouldn’t have the barriers to keep out an emerging mind witch.
Kevin looked up from the page in his book, one of Gran’s old, dusty ones. “It’s true, Elorie!” He squinted his eyes and stared at her. “Think of your favorite color again.”
Elorie focused as hard as she could on red. Strawberries. Fire engines. Blood. Eww. Back to strawberries.
He stared silently for a moment longer and then shrugged. “Your brain still looks blue. Huh—I wonder what I’m doing wrong.”
Probably eating too many blueberries. She closed the book gently before he could dive back in. “Fortunately for you, there’s a real mind witch coming over for tea, and you can ask him all the questions you like.”
Kevin looked crestfallen. “I can’t read the book?”
“Of course you can. You just can’t read it all day long. I’ll bet you fell asleep reading under the covers again last night, too.” She grinned at his look of surprise. It didn’t take a mindreader to know that, given the dark circles under his eyes, but she liked to keep her little secrets.
Elorie refilled his glass of milk. “Now remember, Uncle Marcus is a very skilled witch, but he’s not used to working with children.”
“You mean he doesn’t like us.”
Close enough, but since he was the strongest mind witch in their little corner of the world, he was the right person to test Kevin. He just lacked a fair amount in the bedside manners department.
“He lives alone, Kev. Some witches like to be very solitary, and Uncle Marcus is one of them. Sometimes that makes it hard to know how to be around people. Just use your best witchling manners, and it will be fine.”
And this visit, she wouldn’t be leaving the room. The last time Marcus had tested one of her students, he’d left behind a wake of tears and misery. Powerful witch or not, he had no right to make small boys cry.
Elorie tried to clear any acrimonious thoughts out of her head. When the witch in question could mindread, it was better to be thinking about milk and berries when he arrived. Judging from the voices outside, that event was imminent. She patted Kevin’s hand and went to the door to greet her guests.
“Hi, Gran. Hello, Uncle Marcus, and welcome to my home.”
“Blessed be.” Uncle Marcus scowled and peered past her into the house. “Where is this student you want me to test? You can bring him out—I’ve promised Aunt Moira I won’t eat him for afternoon tea.”
So much for small talk. However, if Gran had given him a stern talking-to as well, maybe they could get through this testing without tears.
Elorie remembered how scary Uncle Marcus had seemed when she was a little girl and he’d threatened to throw her in his cauldron. Since—unlike most witches she knew—he actually had a cauldron, she’d kept her distance for a very long time. In hindsight, that had probably been his intent.
She stepped into the kitchen and gently closed Kevin’s book again. “Uncle Marcus, this is Kevin. He’s my nephew, and a big reader, as you can see.” The two had actually met before, but Uncle Marcus was awful with names and relationships, even though that was a basic life skill in Nova Scotia.
Marcus sat down at the kitchen table and studied Kevin. Elorie put out a plate of treats and several cups of tea, and tried to be invisible. She didn’t want to disrupt the testing, but she had no intention of leaving the kitchen. Since Gran was making herself very comfortable with a cup of tea and a cookie, it looked like Uncle Marcus was just going to have to cope with some observers.
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Kevin tended to the quiet side of things, but he wasn’t shy. He met Marcus’s gaze for several moments, and then asked the important question. “So, do I have mind magic?”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What is my favorite color?”
Kevin concentrated.
“No, no, no.” Marcus slammed his hand on the table. “You’re trying far too hard. You need to relax your mind, not clench it up like a fist.”
Elorie rescued her fallen spoon. No one was going to be doing a lot of relaxing if he kept pounding on the table. Well, except for Gran, who was stirring her tea as if nothing had happened. The gentle, calming scent of chamomile wafted over the table. Hmm. Perhaps Gran was doing a little more than just stirring.
Kevin shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Most people have very messy minds. They leave their thoughts hanging out where anyone can see them. Your Aunt Elorie here is worried I’m going to make you cry.”
Kevin looked fascinated. “What else can you see?”
Marcus sat silent until Moira raised her eyebrow. Twice. “You’re curious about why her mind looks blue today. It likely means you have some empathic talent.”
Kevin cocked his head. “Empathic witches see feelings as colors?”
“Isn’t that what I just said, youngling?”
“So Elorie’s sad, then.”
“Obviously.” Marcus didn’t sound the least bit perturbed about her emotional state, and Elorie was rather dismayed her privacy was that easy to invade.
Moira’s spoon clinked in her tea and she spoke pointedly. “Polite mind witches don’t read the thoughts or feelings of others without their permission.”
Marcus grunted. “I’ve never been a polite witch.”
The sound of a giggle shocked everyone. Kevin seemed mortified to discover it had come from his mouth.
Elorie held her breath as Marcus’s scowl deepened, but when he spoke, his tone was relatively civil. “With all these messy minds around, you don’t need to work hard to hear what people think. You only need to open your mind a little, and their thoughts will come to you. Unfortunately.”
Elorie started walking through the steps to bake oatmeal cookies in her mind. Perhaps that would keep her more embarrassing thoughts quiet.
Kevin considered for a moment. “But your mind isn’t messy, so how can I hear your favorite color?”
“You’re a thinking witch.” Marcus nodded grudgingly. “That’s good. You can’t hear my mind unless I want you to. Right now, I’m sending that thought out toward you. I want to see if you can open your mind enough to hear it.”
“How do I do that?”
“It will require some actual effort on your part. Magic is hard work.”
Kevin scowled. “You just told me not to work so hard. Training’s hard work, too, and I need your help.”
Elorie looked on in shock, wishing she’d ever shown that kind of guts, and Gran hid a smile behind her cup of tea.
Marcus nodded shortly and tapped the book on the table. “Pretend you’re reading, where your brain is focused, but ready to learn something new.”
Kevin thought for a moment, and then closed his eyes. Moments later, they popped open. “Orange!”
Elorie tried not to let her disappointment show. Marcus never wore anything but black. There was no chance his favorite color was something as bright and cheerful as orange.
“Not bad. Perhaps you’ll make a decent witch one day.”
Uncle Marcus’s favorite color was orange?
Marcus picked up a handful of berries. “Now, tell me what else you heard.”
Kevin blushed and looked down at the table. “I didn’t mean to.”
Marcus snorted. “My mind isn’t messy. This is a test, my young witchling. A decent mind witch should have picked up more than just a color.”
Straightening his shoulders, Kevin answered. “You have an itch on the back of your neck. You wish Elorie put raisins in her cookies.” He paused, and then spoke in a voice full of soft sorrow. “And you miss your brother.”
Dead silence. Elorie could see Gran’s face pale as a very dark moment of family history got yanked into the light.
Marcus’s voice was very husky, and probably not as gruff as he thought it was. “Aye. I do. And it’s hazelnuts her cookies need, not raisins. You need to practice.”
Kevin stood up and wrapped his arms around Marcus’s neck. “You’re not as mean as they said.”
Elorie wondered when she’d landed on the alien planet where Uncle Marcus tolerated hugs from children. Then his deep voice spoke inside her head. I’m not quite as old and crotchety as you think, my dear. And you keep forgetting the flour in those mental cookies you’re making.
Marcus touched Kevin’s back awkwardly. “Enough. Go find someone else to bother.” He looked at Moira as Kevin raced out the back door. “He’ll need training, and clearly no one else here is competent enough to handle it. Now, tell me about this new scan that found his powers.”
Uncle Marcus was going to help with training? Elorie looked around for flying pigs.
Moira sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “It’s something Nell did with her fancy spellcoding. I don’t pretend to understand it. The children each held my computer mouse, and Nell got a reading on their powers. Most we already knew, but it suggested Kevin might have mind talents.”
“It shouldn’t have taken a computer to see that.”
“And it wouldn’t have, if our best mind witch wasn’t a hermit.” Oooh, Gran was steamed. “When was the last time you bothered to come check the young ones for talent?”
Marcus’s face could have been made of stone. “You know where to reach me, and you know how to do a basic scan.”
Now it was Elorie’s temper bubbling. “It’s never any one witch’s job to monitor all the young ones.” She hurled her next thought—if her mind was as leaky as all that, he should hear it well enough. I can’t, and she’s getting old.
She thought he looked a little pained, at least. “It’s good his talent was found, one way or the other. And now we need to test Elorie as well, do we not?”
Gran looked horrified. A sick feeling slid into Elorie’s gut. “What do you mean?”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Kevin’s been mindreading more than you all realize.” He looked at Moira. “What in tarnation is going on here?”
Gran picked up Elorie’s hands. “I’m sorry, child. I was trying to keep you from getting hurt, and I’ve truly messed this up. You know that Nell’s fetching spell pulled you into Witches’ Chat the other day.”
Elorie nodded. “Sure, but wasn’t there something wrong with Nell’s code?”
Marcus snorted. “I doubt it. Nell’s a very talented witch.”
“How would you know?” Elorie’s temper was spiking again. “You’ve probably only seen her twice in the last five years.” And if you were your usual friendly self, she ran screaming the other way. She no longer cared if he heard that or not.
I’m not deaf. And you’re having a temper tantrum better suited to a witchling. His face was back to imitating a statue. “Nell and Jamie do some impressive spellwork for the witch-only levels of Enchanter’s Realm.”
Elorie had that alien planet feeling again. “You know about their video game?”
“I’m the third-highest ranked witch in Realm.”
Uncle Marcus played video games? He was good at video games?
“Yes, quite good, in fact.” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “But let’s get back to what Nell’s little scan said about you, shall we?”
Gran’s voice was gentle. “What you picked up from Kevin’s mind isn’t entirely accurate. We haven’t scanned Elorie, but Nell would like to. She and her girls built the scan to give better readings than the fetching spell.”
Moira looked down for a moment, and then met Elorie’s eyes. “You don’t know this, my beloved girl, but I scan you myself quite regularly. I’ve always hoped you would come into the powers to match your witc
h’s heart.”
Elorie reached out to ease the sadness and guilt. “I know that—it always makes your eyes sad when you test me.” She took a deep breath, trying to ease the turbulence in her stomach. “I’m not a witch. I don’t know what’s wrong with Nell’s spells, but I can’t believe they could see something you can’t.”
“I’m not as sure of that anymore, child. I missed Kevin’s mind powers. Perhaps I missed something in you as well.”
The slick in Elorie’s gut was almost overwhelming. “What are you saying?”
Gran took her hands. “Let Nell test you, sweet girl.”
Elorie would have raged at anyone else who asked. As it was, she struggled to contain the anguished fury of the thirteen-year-old girl who had begged and pleaded with the universe for a shred of power and been denied.
Marcus reached for a cookie. “Alternatively, I’d be happy to do the honors.”
Over her dead body. She wasn’t a child anymore. If she had to be tested, she could at least choose how. Trying to tamp down her roiling emotions, she looked straight at Gran. “Arrange the test. And when I fail, I want this to be the last. No more scans, and no more sad eyes. I am what I am, and it needs to be enough.”
~ ~ ~
Nell slid her chair over to let Ginia fit in beside her. “Remember, kiddo—this is probably going to be hard for Elorie.”
“Because Aunt Moira doesn’t think she’s a witch?”
Murky waters. “Well, none of us really knows the answer to that question right now. We have two ways of knowing that are giving us different answers, and that’s a bit tricky.”
“Our code’s right, Mama.”
The trouble was, Nell agreed with her middle triplet. “One step at a time. Let’s see what the scan says, and then we’ll have more data to work from. Go ahead and spell us into video chat.”
Nell had commandeered Jamie and spent all day working with the three girls, refining and testing the scanning code. In addition to mind and elemental powers, it now took a reading on healing and spellcasting talents. They could distinguish between active, trained power and untrained potential, and even get a decent estimate of magical strength.