by Debora Geary
With our magic, four times three,
As we will, so mote it be.”
As she finished, she let go the hold on her Net power and pushed. This would take everything she had.
No longer was she sitting in the eye of the hurricane. She was the hurricane. Power blew around the circle, through her and Kevin in the center, and into the gigantic spellshape that connected them all.
Fourteen witches held steady and created a gift from their hearts.
The spell dimmed, and Elorie felt herself swaying. Uncle Marcus’s gruff voice came in her ear. “Next time, save enough to keep you standing.” She might have been irritated if his hands, holding her steady, hadn’t been so very gentle. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at Aervyn. Had they done it?
His eyes closed for a moment, mindspeaking with Lauren, who was at the site where their spell should have formed. When he levitated in glee, it was all Elorie needed to know.
Thirteen witches looked entirely delighted. Moira was utterly mystified. “Whatever did you do, my sweet girl?”
Elorie laughed. “It’s a surprise, Gran. The best surprise ever. But we can’t tell you until tonight.”
Chapter 16
“Well,” Nell said, “this qualifies as my oddest hot-tub experience.”
Sophie handed down sandwiches and lemonade into the empty, rock-lined pit. “You just need to have a little imagination.”
Nell grinned. “It’d have to be pretty active to turn you into a steamy guy.” She nudged Elorie. “You’re going to be sneaking over here at night with Aaron.”
“So he tells me. I hope Gran will enjoy it.” Elorie frowned, looking around. “Do you think it’s going to work? I don’t want to put too much pressure on Sean.”
It was Sean’s job, in the last circle of the day, to turn the empty basin into a beautiful, magically hot-springs-fed natural pool.
Nell laughed. “Relax, girl. You did most of the heavy lifting with your circle earlier this afternoon.”
Sophie nodded in agreement. “Totally. Gran and Lizzie are up taking a nap together, Aervyn passed out on the back porch, and Ginia’s snoring in the hammock.”
Nell patted the rock beside her. “My fire punk did nice work melting these rocks together, but it’s the earth trio who did the really heavy lifting. Why aren’t you sleeping too, Soph?”
Sophie leaned back, appreciating the sun-warmed smoothness, and grinned. “Apparently, pulling a nice layer of rocks to the surface of the earth is an aphrodisiac for some.” And how. They’d burned off plenty of energy, and then Mike had gone out for a run with his leftovers.
“Dang,” Nell said. “Next time I wanna be in the earth trio.”
Elorie giggled. “Then you’d better bring Daniel with you.”
Sophie quirked an eyebrow, glad to see Elorie in a nice, uncomplicated moment of happiness. “How about you, spellmistress? I bet Aaron’s a pretty happy guy right about now, too.”
“He was, until he discovered several witches trying to cook potions in his kitchen. Now I think he’s busy making ‘Keep Out’ signs and trying to convince the twins to cast hexes for him.”
Sophie wondered lazily whether she might talk Aaron into giving Mike some cooking lessons. For some reason, all her potions on the stove tended to make him a little nervous. Silly witch. She almost never got them mixed up.
Nell looked over at Elorie. “Yup. She’s a goner.”
Sophie blinked. “Who—me?” When they both grinned, she laughed ruefully. “Well, yeah. But I was mostly thinking about potions, actually.”
“Yeah, right.” Nell snorted. “However, speaking of potions, how’s it going with that girl of mine?”
“She’s got the patience and precision. Yesterday, we mixed up a nice batch of belly butter for her to take back to Nat. We embedded a calming spell to help the baby sleep.”
“Awesome. Nat will appreciate it as those baby arms and legs get longer and start keeping her awake at night.”
Sophie held back a yawn. Maybe she really did need a nap. “Aervyn’s sure there’s still just one in there?”
Elorie almost dropped her lemonade. “Aervyn can see babies?”
Nell nodded. “Yup. He saw Nat’s little bean just a few days after conception. It’s an awkward talent, though. He popped the news to a total stranger in the grocery store last month.”
Sophie watched Elorie try to get her expressive face under control, and she knew. She leaned over and gently touched her friend’s hand, hoping to offer without intruding. “So can healers, with a scan. And we have a bit more discretion than most four-year-olds.”
Elorie gulped and nodded. “Not yet. But soon, I hope. And please don’t tell Gran. She’s already knit way too many baby blankets.”
Sophie grinned and reached for one last sandwich. She could keep a secret.
She realized Nell was watching her with a suddenly calculating look. “That’s an impressive snack you just ate, even for a witch. When’s the last time you scanned yourself?”
Sophie stopped with the sandwich halfway to her mouth. “That’s impossible.”
Nell laughed. “Not. Trust me—I know how babies are made.”
Through her brain freeze, Sophie realized one thing for sure. She had to know. Oh, God. Reaching for power, she ran the basic self-scan that was every healer’s first lesson.
And she found life.
A tiny little presence nestled deep in safety. Carefully she checked blood flow and oxygen supply, tissue health and hormone levels, and the healthy division of cells. Then the healer paused, and the brand new mama marveled. There was a baby in her belly.
When she opened her eyes, their empty hot tub was rimmed in daffodils. Nell and Elorie each plucked one, long the witch community’s welcome for new life.
Elorie grinned and spoke through tears. “I know where you can get a large supply of hand-knit baby blankets.”
Nell beamed and hugged Sophie tight, and then handed her a daffodil. “Go tell Mike before Aervyn finds out and spills the beans.”
~ ~ ~
Demon wings and bat dung, would the girl never stop messing with him? Marcus glared at his laptop screen and the top-secret location of his Realm high-mountain keep. Since all his guards were currently sporting pink chest plates and fluffy bunny slippers, it obviously was top secret no longer.
Were three circles in one day not enough to keep Warrior Girl busy? He’d just seen her giggling together with Aunt Moira in the garden, not a care in the world. Probably discussing love potions or something.
He needed a break. When this day was over, he was heading back to his nice, quiet home. Not quite a mountain keep, but it was private, and an excellent place for a solitary witch.
Elorie strolled into the parlor. Perfect—just who he needed. “That was nice work earlier this afternoon. I trust you’ve had time to rest and recuperate. I’ll be heading home tomorrow, so let’s see if we can get a little more spellcoding through that thick head of yours.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Such a lovely invitation.”
Anyone who expected him to dither around with being polite was going to die waiting. He was a witch, not a social butterfly. “Just sit down, girl. We have bunny slippers to deal with.”
“We have what?”
“The evil Warrior Girl and her minions have attacked my keep, and cleaning up her mess is a challenge appropriate to your spellcoding skills.” He hoped. Warrior Girl’s spells tended to be fairly devious.
Elorie sat down, lips twitching as she caught sight of his screen. “Sounds like serious business.”
They both looked up in astonishment at a loud thud. Mike stood rubbing his forehead, having clearly just walked into a wall.
Marcus only knew of three things that could make a grown man forget where the walls were, and of those, he only considered alcohol a reasonable excuse. “The door’s a foot to your left.”
As Mike turned to face them, it was clear he wasn’t drunk. Splendid. That meant the m
an was either bespelled or stupid in love. Marcus reached out with a quick mental probe and sighed. Witchling pranks could be reversed. That kind of love-struck tended to be terminal.
One more decent man lost.
Elorie elbowed him and spoke under her breath. “You can’t possibly be that big a curmudgeon.”
Marcus grunted and stretched a hand out toward Mike. “Congratulations, son, and good luck. You’ll need it.”
Mike grinned, the dopey look of a man who’d lost his way. “I’m having a baby. Well, Sophie’s having a baby. We’re having a baby.”
Any man who repeated himself three times was already underwater.
As Elorie jumped up to hug the father-to-be, Marcus tried to hold on to his sense of superiority and ignore the slide of fear in his heart. Most witchlings lived long, happy lives. Almost all of them.
This was the problem with coming out of his cave. Too darn many things tugging at his heartstrings.
~ ~ ~
Elorie held tight to Aaron’s hand as they hurried down to the beach. An accidental after-dinner nap had the two of them running very late for Sean’s full circle.
She couldn’t believe they’d actually made it to the evening without Gran discovering the sizable hole in her back yard. It would be a masterpiece of beauty and warmth when Sean was done, but right now, it was a frightful disturbance in the well-tended order of Gran’s garden.
She’d never seen several dozen witches keep a secret for ten minutes, never mind an entire afternoon. Somehow, Gran managed to bring out the best in people, even when she wasn’t trying.
Kicking off their shoes in the sand, they ran over to where everyone had gathered, inner and outer circles already formed. Moira looked up and smiled. “And that’s all of us. You look well rested, my dear. Let the circle begin.”
Elorie dropped into place in the outer circle next to Lauren and picked up her flute. Breathing deeply, she began to play the slow melody to the moon that had begun every evening circle she could remember. Haunting and sweet, the notes rose over all who gathered.
Other instruments in the outer circle added harmony and quiet echo, an offering of peace and love, and an invitation to belong—to the magic and to each other. Memory poured in, of the first full circle when the flute had been hers to play. Hesitant child’s fingers moving carefully through the notes Gran had taught, and then pausing in wonder as those notes were picked up and magnified.
Witch or not, this had always been her place.
As she finished, Lauren reached for her hand. That was the purest kind of magic. You weave hearts together as beautifully as you weave spells.
Elorie looked on the moon and the beach, the familiar faces. She loved being a very small part of this great whole.
And now her students would take their places, too.
Her trainer’s heart beat proudly—they looked so competent. Kevin and Sean, channeler and caster, ready in the center. Lizzie on point for water trio, with Gran standing just behind her. That one made Elorie’s heart lurch a little, but then she saw the pride on Gran’s face. Some changes were happy ones.
Lizzie stepped forward, holding a bowl of water, and Elorie gulped back the lump in her throat. Gran beamed as Lizzie lifted the bowl moonward and began the call to water in her young, clear voice.
“We of the West call on Water,
Of life-giving stream and cleansing rain.
We of the West call on Water,
The ocean’s reach and drops under our feet.
We of the West call on Water,
With voices three.
As we will, so mote it be.”
Many murmured the familiar words along with her, and Elorie felt the breeze of gathering power. She also saw Gran’s eyes open wide.
Lauren laughed quietly beside her. She’s got some serious power, that little one. Here, Aervyn has me linked in. I’ll share so you can see.
Elorie felt Lauren’s link, and then she could see the flowing spiral of water power for herself. Unlike previous mindlinks, she could also still see with her eyes. No, wait—with Aervyn’s eyes.
Yup, Lauren sent. He’s a tricky little witch. You’re seeing what he sees, magic and non-magic.
Elorie watched in fascination as the other elements were called, adding sparking fire, swirling air, and solid earth flows to her field of vision. Then Kevin, steady and sure, began to gather the power. After experiencing the hurricane for herself, she could only applaud his quiet self-confidence.
When he had the energy streams neatly collected, he threw a huge power line toward his brother.
Elorie sensed Lauren’s surprise as it was neatly caught. I guess they’ve done that before. He was a lot more careful with Mike this morning.
Everything seemed ready, and Elorie wondered at the pause. Then she heard Kevin’s calm mental voice. More.
Water’s power stream suddenly quadrupled in size. Then she felt Aervyn’s glee, and the walloping dose of power he let fly toward Kevin. Mother of God!
Breathe. Lauren squeezed her hand. Your twins are handling it just beautifully. Can you sense Kevin’s mind?
She couldn’t sense anything but seething power. And then—the quietest of undertones, the flute in the marching band—she could hear it. The focused joy of an artist at work.
With a fierce competence that astonished her, he grabbed everything Lizzie and Aervyn had thrown at him and piped it to his twin.
Then they all steadied and waited for Sean to do his work.
Now familiar with spellshapes, Elorie had even more reason to be impressed as she watched Sean cast his spell. Working primarily with water and fire, he wove together a beautiful form of dancing light. Then, quickly flicking his fingers, he layered earth and air over top of the main shape. Tonight, it was those elements adding containment and safety.
As the spell readied, every witch present held their breath. The point of release was the most difficult for a spellcaster, and Sean had never handled a shadow of this much power before. Elorie had one last desperate surge of regret for asking this much of him.
Then power flared, and the entire circle glowed in the impossible light of magic unleashed.
As she watched with pride running over, Sean waited for the light to dim, neatly tied off the loose ends of power, and checked in with each member of his circle. Only then did he burst into an impromptu tap-dance.
Elorie laughed. Only a bunch of underage witches would have the energy to dance around like that after a full circle.
She made her way over to Moira. “How are you feeling? It’s been a long time since you’ve done three circles in one day.” And one was often enough to leave Gran exhausted, although no one was willing to admit it.
Moira snorted. “I’m not dead yet, child. It was the easiest day of magic in a long time, with Lizzie carrying most of the weight in my trio. I must say, though—this is the second circle of the day where I’ve no earthly idea what we did. Surely it’s time to let the cat out of the bag now?”
Elorie grinned. This was going to be the best gift ever—and it was finally time for the giving. She pulled out a chair and motioned Gran to sit. “The rest are going to meet up by the surprise, and then Aervyn will give you a little ride.”
A very eager crowd flowed up the hill toward Moira’s yard. Elorie was pretty sure Aervyn provided an assist to several of their more elderly members. He was a more than a little excited. Then he popped back down, stood in front of Moira, and reached for her hands.
“Are you going to teleport me, sweetling?”
He nodded. “Uh, huh. But I’ll be really careful about the flowers, just like Elorie said. She said we better not mess with any more of them, or you’ll be really mad.”
Gran’s face was absolutely priceless. “You messed with my flowers?” That was all Elorie got to see as Aervyn, realizing he’d almost let the secret loose, ported the three of them into Moira’s yard.
It was a picture-perfect landing, right next to the beautiful hot-spr
ing pool that now graced her garden.
No one breathed. They had indeed messed with Gran’s flowers, and Elorie dearly hoped it hadn’t been a mistake.
Ever so slowly, Moira stood, her face absolutely unreadable. Then she removed her cloak and shoes and stepped into the pool, still wearing her summer dress. She spun around slowly in the center, and then sank in up to her chin.
Her face spoke her utter joy.
Elorie, for the first time, knew the true power of magic freely given, and her soul sang with it.
Sean bounced to the side of the pool. “Do you like it, Gran?”
Moira looked to Elorie a long moment, eyes full of astonished love. “How did you know?”
Elorie shrugged, suddenly very uncomfortable with fifty sets of eyes on her. “I remembered the stories.” Gran had always been full of stories of her childhood Irish home and the wonderful, magical spring tucked into the green hills.
“Such a gift, child. Such a gift.” Moira touched the waters reverently. “Magic lives in these waters, and oh, so much love.” She looked at the faces gathered around. “Thank you. To each and every one of you, thank you.”
Then she turned back to Sean. “Sweet boy, this is the very best bit of magic I’ve ever seen. A spellcaster’s first spell is one that will always be remembered, and that you chose to make this gift for me—well, I feel like just about the most loved Gran ever.”
Sean looked down sheepishly. “It was Elorie’s idea, not mine. But I thought it was a really good one…”
Moira reached for his hand. “The idea matters, but so does the doing. You did magnificent magic tonight, and you should be very proud.”
“We only did half,” Sean said, more than willing to share the credit. “Elorie’s circle pulled the rocks out of the earth and melted them together. They even made seats out of the rock and stuff so you’ll be really comfortable, and fixed the flowers so you wouldn’t get too mad. My circle just added the water. I guess Elorie did most of the hard stuff.” He stumbled to a halt.
Marcus stepped to his side. “Not at all, my boy. Her spell required sheer power. Yours was about elegance. Imagine if you’d added a little too much heat and boiled Aunt Moira like a frog.”