by Debora Geary
Mike offered his arm for her to lean on, and she wasn’t too proud to take it. The walk to the beach seemed a little longer these days.
When they reached the sand, she kicked off her shoes. It was a glorious night to be barefoot in the moonlight. This close, she felt Mike call earth power. “I found the perfect spot this morning,” he said. “I left a marker so I could find it again.”
Seven-and-a-half decades of life hadn’t dimmed her curiosity any. What was the dear boy up to?
They walked a little way down the beach, just past the traditional place for full circles. Mike stopped and grinned. “This is it.”
He squatted down in front of Aervyn. “Remember, this is top secret.”
Aervyn nodded solemnly. “Just until tomorrow, right? I can do it.”
Ginia grinned. “If he can’t, I think I’ve figured out Mama’s silencing spell.”
Aervyn looked affronted. Moira nodded in approval as Mike intervened before his troops turned on each other. He would make a very good father.
Mike looked at Elorie first. “I asked you to come as an artist, as a witch who can blend spells, and as Sophie’s oldest friend.”
Then he turned to Moira. She looked in his eyes and saw love shining there. “I asked you to come as the keeper of traditions and the grandmother of Sophie’s heart.” Moira could feel her eyes misting over. She began to understand what they were about, standing here under the moon.
Aervyn grabbed Mike’s hand. “Why are Ginia and I here?”
Mike grinned. “Because I need your firepower, superdude. We’re going to make Sophie an engagement ring.”
Aervyn frowned. “A what?”
Ginia elbowed him. “It’s a ring you give somebody when you’re gonna get married.”
“Oh.” Aervyn looked at Mike. “Is that because of the baby? Uncle Jamie and Nat got married right after their baby showed up in Nat’s belly.”
Mike laughed. “That’s a good reason, but the best reason is because I love her.”
Aervyn nodded. “Okay. Does that mean you’re going to kiss her, too? Kissing’s gross.”
Elorie giggled and leaned over to Moira. “I think he’s been hanging out with Sean and Kevin a little too much.”
Moira smiled. She’d seen a lifetime of ten-year-old boys turn into young men mooning over the very girls they’d scorned for years.
Mike called his troops back to attention. “There’s a lot of earth magic needed to make a diamond, and that’s what the three of us will do,” he said, motioning to the two children. “Can you feel the big chunk of carbon down below us?”
Aervyn scrunched up his eyes for a moment. “Yup, but that’s awfully big for a ring, and it’s kinda ugly.”
“That’s cuz it’s not a diamond yet, silly.” Ginia looked at Mike. “We’re gonna squish it, right?”
Mike nodded. “Aervyn, can you see the picture in my mind? We’re going to squish that big rock down to this really tiny shape, and then it will get all sparkly and pretty.”
Moira hadn’t known such magic was possible. Aervyn closed his eyes for another moment, and then nodded. Clearly he didn’t have any doubts.
Mike looked next to her granddaughter. “Elorie, I’m hoping you can visualize a setting for the diamond.” He held out a thin band of gold. “This was my grandmother’s ring. We’ll give you the power you need, but if you can shape it into something pretty, I’d really appreciate it. I’m no artist.”
Elorie’s eyes shone, ready to make a gift for the sister of her heart.
Ah, the boy was well rooted in tradition. Such a wonderful partner he would make her darling Sophie. Perhaps she was simply here to stand in witness.
Mike reached for her hand. “And if you would, I’d like for you to bless the ring.”
That she could do, and with a heart abounding in pleasure. “I can do that when you’re done, my dear. I’ve the blessing spell of my grandmother in my heart—I think that one will do nicely.”
“I was hoping…” Mike paused as emotion swept his face. “I was hoping you could cast a blessing as we build the ring. Elorie could meld it right into the diamond and the gold.”
Moira’s heart wobbled as she realized what he wanted. The oldest of traditions, and the oldest of blessings, united by the newest of magics.
She readied an old Irish blessing spell, and then pulled down a bit of moonlight. It would make Sophie’s diamond shine just a little brighter.
Chapter 19
Marcus could feel giggles tickling his mind channels. They were rather at odds with the dark and stormy book he was reading, so he sent a quick probe out to see who the happy troublemakers were.
It surprised him to discover Aervyn. Four-year-olds got involved in all manner of silly things, but this one usually had rock-solid mental barriers. He must be highly preoccupied to let stray giggles escape.
Curious, Marcus reached out a little further and discovered why Aervyn’s mind was leaky. The little scoundrel was eavesdropping. Nell, Sophie, and Elorie were having iced tea in the garden, and the two youngest witchlings were spying on them.
All things were fair when a witchling wasn’t minding his mind-witch manners. Picking the easier of his two targets, he linked quietly with Lizzie’s mind and listened to their conversation.
“See,” Aervyn said, in a whisper that sounded very loud to Marcus’s enhanced channels, “they’re the same. And Mama doesn’t have one, cuz she says I’m all the trouble she needs.”
“Not exactly the same.” Lizzie was a highly precise witchling, a trait Marcus normally appreciated—when he knew what she was talking about. “Sophie’s is bigger.”
Marcus looked at the three women, trying to puzzle out the mystery. What did Sophie and Elorie have that Nell didn’t? The only answer he could come up with was bikinis, and he was pretty sure swimwear fashion wasn’t the cause of idle witchling conversation.
“Can you look again?” Lizzie said. “I want to see if the other one has a penis, too.”
Aervyn’s giggles should have been heard in the next county. “That’s not a penis, silly. It’s a tail. Mama says babies have tails when they’re really little.”
Babies? Marcus scowled, book forgotten. What on earth were they doing? Halfway out of his chair to nab the troublemakers, the mindlink he shared with Lizzie blazed, and Aervyn’s incoming link clicked into place.
Hey, Uncle Marcus, said Aervyn, clearly unconcerned to find him lurking in Lizzie’s head. Do you wanna see the babies too?
What babies? There were plenty of babies to be found in Fisher’s Cove, but none of them appeared to be hanging out with the trio of women in question.
A very clear picture came down the mindlink. That’s Sophie’s baby, Aervyn sent. Elorie’s babies are newer, so they still look kinda strange.
Marcus gawked at the small, alien creature on his mental screen. That was a baby? It looked a lot more like the shrimp he occasionally pulled in off his boat. Are they supposed to look like that?
More mental giggles from Aervyn as Marcus belatedly realized that was an eternally stupid question to be asking a four-year-old.
With small drips of sanity leaking back into his brain, he also realized Aervyn was doing something most trained healers would walk over hot coals to be able to do. And as far as he knew, healing wasn’t on the boy’s very long list of talents. How are you doing that?
Mind magic, Aervyn said. Lauren can do it too, once the babies get a little bigger. She can see Nat’s baby now. Can you see them?
Marcus didn’t bother to try. He knew when he was hopelessly outclassed. Not at all, my boy. I wait until they show up on the outside to take a look. That might not be entirely true, but he surely wasn’t going to peer into a pregnant woman to find out. He began walking toward the flowerbed that hid the two schemers. Time for them to stop invading everyone’s privacy as well.
Aervyn grinned as he arrived. “Let’s go tell Elorie about her babies. They’re kinda ugly, but don’t tell her that.
Mama says that makes girls cry, so I gotta use good manners and skip that part.”
Marcus was pretty certain that eliminated any comparisons to shrimp as well. He sighed. “Let’s go fetch Aaron first, shall we? I imagine he’ll want to know too.”
~ ~ ~
Elorie grinned at Sophie. “You think Gran’s ever going to put her knitting needles down?”
“Are you kidding?” Sophie leaned over for another treat. “With three babies on the way, she’s threatening to teach Lizzie how to knit too. Here, have a brownie. Chocolate’s good for babies.”
Elorie quirked an eyebrow. “Is that the healer witch talking, or the pregnant mama?”
“Does it matter?” Nell sat down beside Sophie, grabbing a brownie on the way. “Although I swear I craved chocolate more when I was pregnant with the girls than with my boys. Boys just don’t have the chocolate gene.”
Elorie giggled and pointed at Aervyn, currently running around the inn’s back yard with a face smeared in chocolate. She wasn’t convinced.
Nell laughed. “So it’s not a perfect theory.”
Mike walked out into the yard and snagged Aervyn, deftly avoiding the chocolate smears. “I need your help, kiddo. Can you be a witch megaphone?”
“Sure. What’s that?”
“I need you to call everyone back now. It’s time for presents, and some people went down to the beach and into the village. Can you mindspeak a call that far?”
PRESENTS! COME BACK FAST!
Elorie clapped her hands to the side of her head as Aervyn’s very loud mental call rang out. Well, that ought to bring every able-bodied person in a hundred miles.
Mike, standing at ground zero, pretended to fall over dead on the ground, grabbing Aervyn on his way down. The tickles would have been funnier if Aervyn wasn’t still mind connected with everyone. As a lot of people around Elorie discovered, covering your ears just wasn’t that helpful when someone was mind giggling at top volume.
Aervyn! Lauren’s mind voice was a lot quieter, but very insistent. You’re hurting our heads, Super Boy.
The giggles shut off abruptly, followed by a much more quietly broadcast apology. Sorry. I think I got a little excited. I’m a’posed to be working on that. But you should all come, because there’s some really cool presents. Not for me, cuz it’s not my birthday. But there’s chocolate cake, even if it’s not your birthday.
Moira beckoned Aervyn. “You did a lovely job, sweet boy. Come sit by me. I’ll share my chocolate cake with you. Ginia, love, would you run inside and get my bag?”
Elorie looked around. Witches had literally come out of the woodwork. There were almost a hundred people finding places to sit on the porch, the steps, or a spare patch of grass.
A hundred faces she knew and loved. She touched a hand to her belly. These were the people who would know her children and love them well. In Nova Scotia, villages still raised children—and in the witching community, they always had.
Aaron’s hand reached down to cover hers. “Getting used to the idea yet?”
Elorie reached up for a kiss. Used to it? She was already figuring out how to squeeze two bassinets in her studio. Not that sleeping babies in Fisher’s Cove ever seemed to make it to a bassinet. There were lots of arms willing to rock a baby, and they’d have to get past Gran to do it.
Ginia was back with Moira’s bag, and a hush settled on the waiting crowd. Gran’s presents were legendary. She pulled out two boxes, handing the larger one to Lauren, and the other to Elorie.
You first, Lauren sent.
Elorie shook her head. She knew what Lauren’s box contained, and how very special a moment this was for Gran. You first, my new sister.
Lauren slipped the lid off her box and looked at the contents in mystified silence. Then she looked up at Moira, confusion all over her face. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Aye, lass. It’s my great-grandmother’s crystal ball. She sent it with me to travel across the sea. It’s waited more than a century for new hands, but it began to glow when you arrived. It’s meant to be yours now.”
Lauren stared at the box in her lap like it contained eye of newt or something. “Sophie got here at the same time I did. Maybe it’s really for her.” She looked at Moira in consternation. “I’m so sorry—that came out wrong. It’s one of your family treasures. It should stay in your family.”
Marcus snorted. “Do they teach you new witches nothing?”
“Hush, nephew. What she doesn’t yet know is our lacking, not hers.” Moira leaned forward and took Lauren’s hand. “In every way that matters, child, you are family. I would be delighted for you to have one of my treasures, and this one chose you.”
Elorie watched love and utter discomfort tangle on Lauren’s face. “But don’t crystal balls show the future? That’s not one of my talents.”
“It’s a tool, my dear. Nothing more. It will only speak to a witch of uncommon empathy and good judgment.” Moira raised an eyebrow at Marcus. “None before you have passed that test.”
Aervyn grabbed Lauren’s arm. “Take it out and ask it a question. That’s how it works. Don’t worry. It’s only a little hocus-pocus.”
Lauren’s face turned crimson as laughter swept through her audience. “I guess I figured crystal balls were a myth, just like cauldrons and pointy hats.”
Fortunately she didn’t look up and see all the glances exchanged at her comment. Elorie could count at least a dozen faces in attendance who’d polished Gran’s cauldron as a result of some misdeed or another.
Lauren reached gingerly into the box and lifted out the clear glass ball. And then nearly dropped it as it started to glow.
Moira beamed with pleasure. “For a century now, it’s been waiting for the right hands. Great Gran said it was a beautiful thing to see lit, and indeed it is.”
Lauren looked completely gobsmacked. Nell snickered and leaned toward Sophie. “Modern witch, meet really old-fashioned magic.”
As she watched the crystal ball with wonder and a smidgeon of jealousy, Elorie tried to put herself in Lauren’s shoes. Oh, to hold such a piece of history in her hands and see it light up. “Is she really so uncomfortable with the old ways?”
Sophie smiled. “I suspect she feels like a very traditional witch I know, the first time she got handed an iPhone.”
It took Elorie a moment to make the connection. “Did I really look as terrified as she does?”
“Oh, yeah.” Nell nodded. “Like someone had handed you a small bomb.”
Elorie tucked that little revelation away to think about later.
Aervyn was doing his bouncing thing again. “Ask it a question, Lauren!”
Lauren looked at Moira. “What do I ask?”
“That’s why the crystal ball chooses those with empathy and good judgment, my dear. You have the wisdom to know the right questions to ask.”
Lauren closed her eyes for a moment, and then stared at the ball very seriously. Dozens of eyes watched intently, but nothing happened. Elorie heard several sighs of disappointment, but Gran just watched with a gentle smile.
Then Lauren’s eyes filled with tears, and she spoke very softly to Moira. Moments later, she closed her eyes, and Elorie felt the nudge of mind connection.
Tears ran unheeded as they all shared what Lauren had seen in the crystal ball. Gran, sitting in her garden rocker, with a babe in her arms and two more asleep in the basket at her feet.
Elorie felt the lifting of a weight she hadn’t known she carried. Gran will rock our babies. Bless you, Lauren.
Sophie let out a trembling breath. “I guess we’re coming to visit next year.”
Lauren gently laid the crystal ball back in the box. This time she touched it with reverence.
Then she grinned at Elorie. “Your turn.”
Elorie looked down at the small box in her hands.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the lid. The birthing stone. Oh, Gran. Clutching the stone, she crossed to Gran’s waiting arms and buried her he
ad in the shoulder that had always brought comfort.
“It’s your turn now, sweetling. May it help your little ones into the world as it has generations of babes since time unremembered.”
Elorie gripped the moonstone tightly. “Sophie will need it first.”
Gran stroked her head. “I don’t think so, child. Twins come a little earlier than most.”
Two babies. Jeebers. As reality suddenly hit, Elorie melted to the porch floor. How on earth was she going to manage that?
She watched in a daze as more gifts were handed out. Lauren delighted in the earrings Ginia had worked on for several painstaking hours. Gran giggled over the bright pink shirt that said “World’s Best Grandma.” And everyone sang along when Aervyn bespelled the flowers into a round of Happy Birthday.
Then Ginia handed Elorie another small box. From the sudden quiet attention around her, this one was important.
Elorie wasn’t sure her emotions could take any more. Gran patted her hand. “Go ahead, dearest girl. This is the best gift of all.”
One more time, she opened a box. And frowned. It was her new heart pendant. That’s what had been niggling at her all day—the missing weight of it. She touched a hand to her neck, and Aervyn giggled. “I ported it this morning. Mama says it’s okay to be a witchling thief if there’s a really good reason.”
Elorie began to understand why someone might look suspiciously at the contents of a box. “And what else did you do to it, sweet boy?”
“Wasn’t just me.” Aervyn had somehow found another brownie. “Lotsa people helped. We needed almost a whole circle. Shrinking stuff is hard.”
The heart looked the same size as the last time she’d seen it. She looked around in confusion. All her witchlings looked very proud. Something was definitely up.
Ginia stood up. “Let me put it on for you.”
Elorie held up her hair as Ginia attached the clasp, and then stepped back, eyes bright. “Now turn on Net power.”
Elorie reached into her pocket for her iPhone, and discovered it was missing as well. Aervyn giggled again. Add “pickpocket” to his list of magical skills.