by Debora Geary
TJ held up a hand. “Give me a couple of minutes to finish running this model, then I’ll explain. Devin and Jamie are on the way.”
“We’re here.” Devin held Lauren’s hand—and their feet were sandy. Nell blinked. It was 4 a.m.
Jamie landed, still wearing the Spiderman pajamas Aervyn had given him for his birthday. “Lauren. Can you go stay with Nat? I don’t want to leave her alone.”
That Lauren hesitated at all told Nell volumes about what must be in Govin and TJ’s heads. Shit, shit, shit.
Wait. Nell started typing into her phone. “Daniel’s monitoring Realm comm channels. It’s morning in Nova Scotia—I’ll ask him to fetch Moira and Sophie a bit early. They’ll take good care of Nat.”
TJ held up his hand again, and the entire room went silent. When he spun his chair around, his face was as pale as Nell had ever seen it. “We had a tropical-storm depression off the coast of Indonesia go off-model. Ran into a warm-water current, spun up some big waves. Forty-footers. Unfortunately, they’re headed toward a delta—a valley that’s got some of the best fishing in the country. Fifty thousand people living at sea level, mostly in small, rural villages.”
No way to warn them. “How long?”
“Less than an hour.” He pulled up a map on the big screens behind him. “The waves are coming in here. If we’re really lucky, they’ll turn a little and run into these hills, here. The hills can handle forty feet.”
Jamie moved forward. “How much do they need to turn? Can we push them?”
Govin shook his head. “Not from here. Too far, not enough time.” They’d tried last night.
“You might be able to take the edge off the wave speed.” TJ pulled up a model. “This is the best option I can find. It shrinks the kill zone some.”
Nell watched in horror as 17,163 people still lost their lives.
Sierra’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’ve been there.” Moving forward, a walking ghost, she touched an inlet on the screen, right in the middle of the kill zone. “We lived in this village right here for almost a year.” She turned, eyes slightly crazed. “We have to help them.”
Nell’s heart agonized. “We don’t know if we can, sweetheart. It’s halfway around the world.”
Sierra spun to Jamie. “Get us closer. Send us through Realm. If we’re closer, we can fix this.”
Her brother’s eyes were bleak. “There’s no Internet in that area. I already checked.”
“Internet.” TJ whirled back to his computer, a keyboarding maniac. “A satellite signal will pass over that area in about ten minutes.” He looked up. “We could get you there. Tricky timing, but we could do it.”
Devin stepped in front of Sierra. “I’ll go.”
“No.” Nell couldn’t believe she was the only one who had spoken. “We don’t drop people in front of killer waves with no exit route until the next satellite pass. That’s suicide.”
Jamie took her hand. “TJ, can you find us to somewhere close, but with a little elevation?” He squeezed her hand as she gathered breath to protest. “If we take a small group, I can port us closer—and then back to safety.”
He’d port them out and leave thousands of people dying on the beach? Not likely. Nell yanked his face toward hers. “You have a baby coming. You can’t do this. You’ll kill yourself trying to port everyone to safety.”
“I won’t.” Even the possibility left his mind in agony. “I know what I have to live for.”
“If we can’t stop the wave, maybe we can move the people.” Lauren stood staring at the map. “TJ, how wide is the kill zone?”
“Thirty miles, but the worst of it is here at the delta. About four miles. That’s where most of the people live, the ones who will be hit first.”
Lauren’s mind radiated warrior steel. “I can mindproject and reach at least half of those. If they run, some of them will make it to safety.” She looked at Sierra. “I need you to teach me how to say ‘Big wave. Run!’ in Indonesian.”
“I’m coming.” Sierra’s face no longer belonged to a girl. “You might need more words than that. And while you broadcast, I’ll see if I can turn the waves.”
Dev and Govin closed in, one on each side. She would have help. Nell looked on the faces she loved, anguished. Lives were on the line—theirs, and tens of thousands more.
Jamie handed her his phone. “Work with Daniel. Put us down in the middle of the delta. The closer we can get, the more people Lauren can warn.”
Nell squeezed her eyes shut and made the most difficult decision of her life. She handed the phone to TJ. “I’m coming.”
Jamie turned whiter. “You have five kids, sister mine.”
“Exactly.” Someone had to make sure this didn’t turn into a witch suicide mission. She looked at the assembled crew. “We’re coming back. Every last damn one of us.” With everything in her, she willed each one of them to believe it.
~ ~ ~
Devin had never been so terrified in his life. He stood motionless, waiting to beam into the kill zone of a tsunami—with most of the people dearest to him in the world.
Even his risk-loving soul knew this was insane.
And it had been Lauren who had stepped up first.
He’d think later about the fact that she’d nearly made his heart stop.
TJ looked up from his computer. “In five. Four. Three. Two. One. Mark.”
And out they spilled, into the village where Sierra had once lived. It was not a quiet arrival—they’d landed in the middle of a group of chattering women preparing the evening meal. Devin blinked. A lot of interested faces turned their way, but no one had moved, no one had panicked. What the hell?
“They know magic.” Sierra stepped out of the group, bowing deeply to a very old woman. Then a flow of words, musical and foreign, poured out of her mouth.
Devin watched as the old woman’s face shifted from joy, to sorrow, to fear. And then it shifted one more time, and he knew, whoever she was, she had just taken charge.
She turned, spoke six sharp words—and everyone within a hundred feet fled.
Sierra turned, grabbing Lauren’s hand. “This is Oma. She asks that you send her words as far as you can. They will listen to her.”
Devin stood transfixed, as Lauren, California sand still on her feet, held hands with a tiny brown matriarch. And watched in awe as every person he could see grabbed a child or a basket and ran. In less than a minute, the village was empty except for the old woman and three young women who stood by her side.
“They will carry word as they go.” Sierra pointed in the direction of the retreating villagers. “Oma says they will make it to safety—the hills are not far.”
The old woman snapped out two more words, and Sierra blushed. “She says we must also go. They are grateful for the warning.”
They’d been dismissed. Oma turned and walked toward the sea, the three young women following her.
Devin stepped forward, about to protest—and felt water power stirring. And suddenly he understood. “They’re witches. Water witches.”
Sierra nodded. “Here they’re called water dancers. They keep the village safe. Momma brought me to train with them.”
He turned to Jamie. “Take Lauren and port out of here. Govin and Nell too.” He and Sierra could survive the landing of a forty-foot wave—nobody else would.
“Like hell.” Lauren’s look was pure fury.
“You can’t help here!”
“I can hook all your minds together so you can work as a unit.” She calmly walked after the village women. “You’re wasting time.”
He’d kill her later. Devin shoved aside the tangled knot in his gut and reached for power. He felt the incoming clink of Lauren’s mindlink and the gathering power of each of the water witches. The old woman’s power stream already headed out into the ocean, seeking the waves.
Devin tried to overlay TJ’s map on the scene in front of him. The waves are a bit to the left, I think. He hoped like hell that Lauren’s me
ntal links included some kind of translation.
The waves will be to the left, said a voice he didn’t know but instantly recognized. Leaders everywhere spoke with the same authority. But the water we must move will be ahead.
Devin smiled grimly. Done this before, have you?
Since before your mother’s mother was born, young one. You have impressive power in you. It is good. We will need it.
He felt her mind stretching to the origin point for the wave stream. And he felt her fear. Then an incomprehensible stream of words—and three minds split off the connection. The young women turned as one—and ran.
It is time for you to go now too. This is mine to face.
Bloody stubborn witches. Let us help.
He felt her answer before the words came. This one is too big. We cannot turn it.
Then why do you stay?
Her voice was a world of calm, the fear long gone. Because I can slow it down a little. Enough for my people to get to safety. I was born for this. It is my calling as a water dancer. Go. And her mind dropped the link.
Like hell. No witch he knew left old women to die. Even heroic ones.
~ ~ ~
Sierra stared at the tiny woman who had once stood in as her grandmother and felt her heart crack. She threw her power streams at the back of Oma’s head, screaming as they were rebuffed. It was the tradition of water dancers—they all knew one day a wave too big would come and take them away.
Not today. Please God, not today.
Maybe she could stop the wave herself. Desperately, she gathered energy, looking for a place big enough to ground. And then heard Devin’s voice, rock solid, inside her head. You have a team, Sierra. Use us.
A team. A team to use. A team to take care of.
Sierra clung tight to the rock of Devin’s calm and tried to think. Oma was right—water power wasn’t going to stop these waves, even with all three of them working. But Oma had nothing else to use. She did.
Her team. Fire power. Lots and lots of fire power. Rapidly, she mindsketched her idea, praying her team’s edge was big enough. It was a humungous spell.
It’s time. Lauren’s mind voice held insistent command. Now, or get us out.
NOW. Sierra held one end of the spell, Devin the other, funneling superheated water into place—an inch of heat to turn a mountain of water. With what little magic she could spare, she reached out and felt the hurtling power of the wave on final approach.
And then suddenly she was on an island, wave coming in behind her as she played with the baby storm, not seeing. Momma. RUN. MOMMA!
NO! No. That wasn’t real. It wasn’t now. Now was a wave, and a wall, and a team. A team. She wasn’t alone. They needed her now.
She picked up the shredded ends of the spell she’d dropped, holding on with all the power and love she possessed.
And felt the tsunami smash into their trickling string of warmer water. A feather to turn an elephant.
Power exploded through her channels, white-hot lightning. Then nothing.
Nothing.
And then she felt Oma’s hand in hers. “You’ve done it, child. You turned the waters.”
Sierra opened her eyes—and saw the forty-foot swells rushing to land just down the coast. There were hills there—hills to slow down the waves. Please, let the villagers be out of the way. Please.
“We are fishermen.” Oma smiled. “No one is foolish enough to stay when the big waves are coming. Now hold my hand, and let’s swim in this little one together, shall we?”
The waves roaring in on them now were only fifteen feet high.
~ ~ ~
Lauren squeezed her head, reeling from the power vibrations that had kicked from everyone’s channels. Nothing like being mindconnected to a lightning bolt.
But they’d done it. She’d felt the relief hit first the old woman, then Sierra.
Then she opened her eyes—and looked up at a wall of water. Her mind screamed, but all that came out was a squeak.
Devin’s hand slid into hers, firm and cool. “Just a little wave left. Time to go swimming.”
Oh, holy God. She turned to run. “I can’t swim.” And nearly dislocated her arm when he didn’t let her go.
“I can.” His eyes promised everything. “Just hold on.”
She held. She prayed. And she believed.
~ ~ ~
Sierra sat in front of a waterlogged hut, her arm around Oma’s shoulders as they cuddled under a blanket, watching the village children rushing around finding everyone’s belongings. Even small waves could make a pretty big mess if your home was on the front lines.
“You have a big family now, child. I’m glad for you. Your heart is big enough to love many.”
The only time she’d ever had a big family before had been the year she and Momma had lived in the village. “They’ve been really nice to me.”
“They love you. That is far different.”
They’d come with her. On a reckless, harebrained rescue mission. That was beyond love.
Oma’s hand stroked her cheek. “And your mother?”
Tears mixed with the salty ocean water drying on Sierra’s cheeks. She remembered now. “I think she went wave dancing. And she didn’t come back.”
“I’m so sorry, child.” Oma was quiet for a minute. “She never quite understood when to dance.”
Sierra sat up straight. That was as close as she’d ever heard Oma come to criticism. “What do you mean?”
“The water can be fearsome. A joy, a partner, but also a life-taker. It is why the water dancers of the village are always old. We do not ask the mamas to dance.”
“But Momma loved the water dance.” Her throat was letting very little air in.
“Yes. But she also loved you.” Oma’s eyes were dark and sad. “And she danced too often to the edge of life.”
Sierra’s heart ached. “Didn’t we do that today?”
“Yes.” The old woman gazed out over her village. “But today we saved many thousands of lives.” She smiled. “And you weren’t in as much danger as I believed. That nice young man Jamie has powerful magic to be able to move people like that.”
He had ported Nell and Govin out of the way of the fifteen-foot wave, trusting the water witches to swim their way through. Well, the water witches and poor Lauren.
Sierra looked over to where a drenched and giddy, but shell-shocked, Lauren sat cuddled in Devin’s lap. “I need to teach her how to swim.”
Oma smiled. “Bring her for a visit. The young ones will have fun helping her learn, and you and I can chat a little.”
Not every piece of her past had disappeared with Momma. Sierra’s heart squeezed in gratitude.
Chapter 22
Nell sat in a chair watching Aervyn’s birthday party in full swing and marveled yet again at the resiliency of Witch Central. “I can’t believe I was on a beach in Indonesia, covered in seaweed, just a few hours ago.”
Moira chortled. “Naps and cookies fix most witches up pretty quickly.”
Truth. Her cookie stash had been seriously depleted upon their return. She watched her birthday boy chasing one of his sisters around with his new fireman hose and laughed. “I’m pretty sure that hose didn’t come with a real water supply.”
Sophie giggled as Ginia, soaking wet, turned to retaliate. “Well, it has one now.”
The sight of her dripping daughter and laughing son sobered Nell. “Water seems so innocent most of the time.”
Moira clasped her hand. “As does magic.”
Nell squeezed back, glad her fears were understood. “He’s still so little.”
“He has time yet.” Moira paused, watching Aervyn’s giggles. “Time to fully know the joy of his magic before discovering its sadness.”
“She didn’t get that time.” Nell looked over at Sierra, heroine and giddy teenager. “We put her in the path of hell this morning.”
“Based on what I heard, she put herself there.” Sophie’s voice was quiet, but firm. “Yo
u saved twenty thousand people this morning, maybe more. That’s a miracle, Nell.”
It was. But her heart iced over with the knowledge that it probably wouldn’t be the only miracle asked for in her lifetime. Or that of her son.
And then thawed again, knowing how many witches stood between her son and that day. Sierra just added one to their number. “She was amazing. We’ve shaken her hard these last couple of weeks, and she just stood there in the face of a forty-foot catastrophe and figured out how to do the impossible.” It would be a long time before Nell erased the mental picture of the wall of water that had crashed down on the four witches Jamie hadn’t been able to port out of the way in time—and that had been a baby wave compared to what had originally threatened.
“As did every one of you.” Moira’s eyes looked off in the distance. “It is the calling of witches, the weight that comes with the gift of power. We must stand for others—and we must choose wisely when and where to take our stands.” Her words got very quiet. “It’s the second that is the far more difficult lesson to learn.”
Nell breathed deeply. “I think I’m still working on that one.”
Sophie laughed as Devin and Jamie intercepted Aervyn’s fire hose, getting thoroughly wet in the process. “Aren’t we all.” She threw up a shielding spell as water started to spray everywhere.
Nell just shook her head. All the furniture had long since been protected with waterproofing spells. And she had two brothers who were going to be heading up the clean-up crew. After the fun was over, of course. She grinned. “I have a spare hose.”
Moira chortled. “You might want to wait on that a moment, dear.”
Nell turned to see what Moira was looking at—and winced as a hose blast hit Retha Sullivan square between the eyes. Nell watched as the cascade of water poured down her mom’s face—and gave many thanks she wasn’t the one standing with a hose in her hand. Two minutes more, and she might have been.
Retha stood regally still, blinked three times—and then lasered in on the culprit. “Devin Theodore Roosevelt Sullivan. How many times have I told you that innocent bystanders aren’t fair targets in a water fight?”