Wayward Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 2)

by Melinda Kucsera

  Nimby laughed. “No, I don’t think you are either. I think you, my dear, are a weaver, like your great-great grandfather, Nexis. He was a powerful craftsman, and a fair leader. He wove protections for our pixie fleet in the First Fierie War.”

  Ariana felt a confusing mixture of pride and sadness. “I have a great-great grandfather and you know more about him, his power, my mother and her power and my life than I do.”

  Nimby pushed her tea towards her. “Drink up. I will tell you a story to pass the time. We will not be entering the waters of Endowa, yet. There, I must help Seaira navigate.”

  Ariana sipped her tea. The flavor burst in her mouth like a spring morning: fields of sweet flowers unnamed in the human world vied for attention. They tasted of sweets her tongue had never savored, but knew, all the same. Tears fell from her ice-blue eyes.

  “Home,” she whispered, though she couldn’t say how she knew.

  Nimby’s smile was wide and his eyes sparkled. “Yes, Princess, that brew comes from the fields of organa flowers, just outside of your family’s palace. Are you ready for my story or, should I say, your story?”

  Ariana wiped the tears from her cheek, patted Wot’s little head and nodded. “I’m ready.”

  Ariana faces her most harrowing adventure yet, when she enters the home she has never known in the middle of a strained peace between the Pixie and Fierie kingdoms.. She must not only decide whether or not to stay and claim her place in the pixie kingdom, but also what side she is on. Join Ariana in the third installment in her chronicles featured in Forgotten Magic.

  About the Author

  Washington state author H. M. Jones is an N.I.E.A finalist and B.R.A.G medallion honoree for her debut novel, Monochrome. She writes poetry, new adult, young adult, fantasy, sci-fi, and speculative fiction. In her spare time, she loves to cosplay with her two favorite geeklets, sing to her chickens, and dance haphazardly around the house while talking to characters she hasn’t written yet. Her dog worries for her.

  For more information about the author, please visit: www.hmjones.net. Don’t forget to 1-click the sequel anthology, Forgotten Magic, for more!

  Weather Witch Worries

  A. R. Johnston

  The coven of elders are coming for the new weather witch and they have their own nefarious ideas for her. Sky may be the new weather witch, a reluctant one but what is yet to be determined is if she and Braxton can bring new promise to the age of witches. Can they learn to use this wayward magic?

  AR Johnston

  Fear of execution has Sky more worried about learning control and staying under the radar than making birthday plans with her best friend. Otherwise, the coven might execute her before she even has a chance to learn her potential, which seems to be great. But someone wants her power, wants the balance Braxton has given her, and she has no idea who it is.

  Nefarious plans are brewing and Sky won't have the time to worry about which direction the wind is blowing before time brings a new storm. Will she be able to weather it, or will it tear her apart?

  Prologue

  “Les jeux des enfants ne sont pas des jeux.”

  (The games of children are not games)

  Montaigne

  The Divine has chosen a new weather witch. It has given her a balance for power in the world.

  Sky Stratan is a reluctant recipient of the weather witch powers but manages to find the one man who calms the growing storm within her.

  Braxton Conrad, a powerful witch in his own right, has the power to nullify or dampen the powers of others. He is completely taken by Sky when he meets her, falling fast and deeper than ever. The bonus for both of them is that his powers can help calm Sky’s or enhance them. Something they will have to learn to control.

  Can he help keep her safe in the coming weeks? The coven elders have heard there is a new weather witch and they want her for their own nefarious purposes.

  This is where this part of the story begins …

  Chapter One

  “You’re learning better discipline, curbing the magic to your will.” My father sounded surprised and pleased at the same time.

  Glancing out the window at the old Victorian house we lived in, I smiled. My parents had found a specific area for me to practice in, so I had been learning exactly what my powers could do. It was the carriage house behind the property. At least if I lost control and destroyed this place, we’d still have a home to live in.

  I reached up to clutch the necklace I had on, a lovely wire-wrapped piece consisting of several gemstones known for their calming properties. Celestite was said to blast away chaotic thoughts and was connected to the top three chakras to help with the highest serenity. Black tourmaline was a stone often overlooked, but it was known to ground a person and protect them from others’ negative emotions. And blue lace agate looked like it came from the sea and brought with it an instant sense of calm. The combination made this an enchanted piece of jewelry, the same one my great aunt had used when she was first training to become a weather witch. It was designed to dull my powers, to help teach control.

  Especially when I was sleeping, it protected me. Having a nightmare as a weather witch was not a good thing. I could accidentally bring on world destruction in my sleep. It was not the only thing I used to help control my new developing magic, either. There were many other pieces of jewelry, even some crystals. Because it had become clear almost from the start that my powers as a weather witch made me one of the most powerful, one piece of jewelry just wouldn’t do.

  “She is. It is amazing to watch,” Braxton said from the far corner of the room, his voice filled with pride.

  I glanced over to see him smiling at me from his perch on the settee. My heart skipped a beat and my cheeks heated. Braxton and I had met a little over two weeks ago, but I felt so much more for him in that short time than I had for Nick in all the years we had been together. With that thought, a zing of anxiety pinged through my chest. Maybe we were moving a little too fast.

  Was this the right thing?

  I had no idea if he was right for me, but when he was around peace and tranquility washed over me. Yes, I was terrified of what might happen, sure. Part of me thought maybe I was just using him to steer clear of the coven’s radar, and another part thought maybe my feelings had escalated because I was so angry with Nick. I needed to make sure I wanted to be with him for me, though. I wanted to be with him because I enjoyed his company, not just because of my growing powers. A rush of frustration washed over me. None of these thoughts were good ones to be having, and thinking of Nick made my palms sweat, my breathing come faster, and seething bitterness creep inside me.

  Things in the room shook, my father’s face filling with apprehension. His concerned frown marred his face, making me sad because I’d put it there. My heart ached.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I told him, the broken plea for forgiveness coming straight from my soul. My chin trembled and tears blurred my vision, threatening to fall.

  His head tilting slightly to the side, the look in his eyes was one of pity, comfort, and love all at the same time. He stepped closer, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek. “Oh, sweetie. There is nothing to be sorry about. I know you’ll get this. You’re a Stratan and you know no other way.” His voice was soft and soothing. I loved listening to my father speak. “Now, stop the rain sweetie. We’re on the coast and don’t need any more water rising. Plus, Braxton here is the only one who knows how to surf.”

  My eyes widened as I sputtered a laugh. Braxton chuckled from the corner. My father’s bright green eyes danced with mischief and I could only grin, my amusement stopping the rain. I stepped closer to my father and hugged him close.

  “I won’t let anything happen to my little girl,” he whispered in my ear. He ran his hand over my hair in a comforting gesture.

  I sighed, my eyes closing at the sense of security he instilled in me.

  “That’s my girl,” Braxton breathed from behind me.

  I grinned, turn
ing my head to see him wink at me. My father’s eyebrows rose at that. He even looked a little embarrassed. He let me go, coughing as his eyes fell on the floor.

  “I’ll just be back at the house helping your mother with supper,” he said, his gaze darting everywhere but on us before he nodded and made his way out of the room.

  Braxton chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me from behind and pulled me against him, both of us watching the retreating figure of my father.

  “Did I just embarrass your father?” he asked, bending close enough to perch his chin on my shoulder and pepper my neck with kisses.

  I sighed in contentment, wrapping my hands tight around his and leaning back into his embrace.

  “I think so.” I giggled, tilting my head to the side to look at him.

  “Then I’m glad he didn’t see me do this.” His voice deepened as he spun me in his arms.

  I grinned at the amused look in his eyes as I reached up to push the hair off his forehead. The mischief and merriment that had been there before turned to heat as he tilted his head and he took my lips in a sizzling kiss that stole my breath away.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I sighed blissfully. When the kiss ended, we both struggled to breathe, our foreheads falling together. With a grin, Braxton kissed the tip of my nose.

  “He is right. Your control is amazing based on the small amount of time you’ve had to learn.”

  Running a hand up and down my arm, I tilted my head up just a little bit. “I do believe I have you to thank for a lot of this newfound control.” I smirked at him.

  He chuckled. "And I am happy to have obliged, my fair lady.”

  I grinned. “You say the most outrageous things.”

  His smile was infectious as he nodded. “I do. To guarantee that I see that beautiful smile of yours.” He kissed me lightly again.

  “Mmm. How did I get so lucky to find you?” I murmured across his lips.

  “You walked onto my beach, that’s how.”

  “You two are so disgustingly cute,” Bess’s voice rang out.

  Both of us turned to look at her beaming brightly.

  “What? It’s true.” She shrugged nonchalantly at us, then winked.

  Once again, I was laughing and so was Braxton. We reluctantly let go of each other. I walked over to Bess to hug her this time.

  Bess was my best friend since forever and a day. This girl knew what was going on with my life. Bess refused to stay away, often coming over to check on me. She loved that I was coming into a new power set and thought it was exciting. I adored her for it because she wasn’t afraid of me. I sent a silent thank you to the Great Divine over that one because I’m not sure that I could have gone through all of this without her.

  “Baxter let you out of his sight?” I queried, quirking an eyebrow at her in amusement.

  “As if.” I heard his voice before he walked into the room.

  Baxter and Braxton exchanged greetings as Bess and I chuckled.

  “How goes it?” Baxter asked, looking right at me.

  I shrugged, looking to Braxton before answering.

  “As good as can be, I guess.”

  “Well, we’re here to discuss birthday plans!” Bess gushed, grabbing Baxter’s hand and squeezing it tight. Baxter rolled his eyes and she swatted his arm.

  My eighteenth birthday was in just a few days. It was a big day, the day a witch of age got written into the great book of the covens and recognized as a full-fledged witch.

  The thought of this happening made me shiver. Braxton saw the involuntary movement and he moved closer, wrapping an arm around me from behind. He brought his lips to my ear.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded. His calm wrapped around me again, and I was so grateful because the thought of the coven finding out that I was a weather witch made me shiver.

  It was as if he knew what I was thinking when he said, “The book knowing what kind of witch you are making you nervous?”

  “Well, damn. Some friend I am for not thinking of that.” Bess sounded distressed. “And here I am trying to make a huge deal out of your birthday by planning this party and you’re full of worry about it all.”

  Baxter grabbed her hand and tried to make light of it all. “But that’s nothing! It’s a drop of blood and the book does all the rest for you.” He frowned, shrugging it all off.

  If Bess’s eyes could have gotten any wider, they would have looked like saucers. After that, it was as if she figure it all out, slapping Baxter’s arm as he flinched in surprise.

  “What? What did I do?” he asked, his voice high-pitched and loud.

  “Insensitive jerk. The blood in the book tells everyone in the coven what kind of witch she is,” Bess said, her words coming slow like she was trying to explain it to a simpleton. She walked over to me and squeezed my arm.

  Baxter got it after that. “And with that comes the possibility of the coven deciding to take you away …” His words faded in a hushed tone. “Oh, Sky. I’m sorry.”

  Tears filled my eyes. Must not cry, must not cry.

  I turned around in Braxton’s embrace, burying my face into his chest.

  “I’ll keep you safe. Go ahead and cry.” He kissed the top of my head. Serenity washed over me and I cried because I was terrified of what the coven elders might do.

  Chapter Two

  Brantlee Stratan

  The meeting of the coven elders was in progress, and I sat there listening to everyone even though my attention is elsewhere thinking of the ever-growing powers that my daughter now has. I admit that I’m nervous about what the coven might do when they finally realized there is a new weather witch within their midst and that I have been withholding the information. Perhaps I could have asked to step down from the council, even if I am one of the most powerful members on it. Many were nervous, wary of me and of my wife.

  I did not want to see my daughter taken away from me or her mother. Sky is going to be eighteen in just a few days and about to leave her blood mark within the great coven book of witches. There could be no more hiding this secret then. The great book was a gift from the great divine. The magic inside it came in spades, and it always knew, always placed and recorded witches.

  Every time a witch was born, an open entry appeared in the book. It was not until the week before the witches’ birthdays that their names appeared. But the telling magic of the book was when the witches’ single drop of blood hit the book. Then it would shimmer and tell the world what kind of witch the person was.

  I shifted in my seat in a nervous gesture thinking about what they would do to Sky when the book showed the world that she was a weather witch. Though I have to admit, my daughter was showing much more control than I ever thought possible for a newly minted weather witch. Any weather witch the world had seen before in the past had been taught by an early age. Not only that, but most weather witches were not as strong or as rare as Sky was with it being attached so strongly to emotion.

  “Now I would like to bring up the rumors that there is a possibility of a new weather witch,” a deep, rich voice spoke, breaking me from my reverie.

  My head snapping up in attention, my gaze locked on Vincent Cromwell, who happened to be a long-time friend. The Cromwells and the Stratans had always been tight-knit friends and even more so when our children had been dating. Unfortunately, when Nick cheated on Sky, their relationship became strained. Jordan came by the house from time to time, which was good, but sadly things were still awkward.

  “Weather witch?” Whispers flowed around the room.

  “There have been no young children showing signs of this ability,” a female voice scoffed.

  “Rumor is that this is not a child at all.” Vincent sounded slightly smug as he looked down his nose at me, then settled back into his chair with careful ease. “Isn’t that right, Brantlee?”

  In that moment I wanted to punch Vincent in the nose. I took a calming breath even though my hands were clenched in fists underneath the table we
were all sitting at. Being on the coven council meant learning to school one’s expression so none of the others saw what was really going through one’s mind. Though I could feel my heart racing, my expression remained placid. I angled my head to study Vincent, meeting the man's gaze straight on. Vincent swallowed hard, breaking the stare-down first.

  I refuse to have this social-climbing twat get to me. He’s always wished for more power than he has. Outing my daughter to the coven will not win him any points. It will just prove to others that he is willing to rat out anyone, like in the witch trials. Being in Massachusetts and so close to Salem, he may want to rethink what he’s doing.

  “The great book of the coven will be the one to confirm such a thing,” I said, my tone tranquil even though I felt anything but. Never letting my gaze waver from Vincent’s, letting the other man know that I knew exactly what he was up to.

  I did not dare to look in the direction of Bishop Conrad, Braxton’s father. We had been watching our children grow very close the last few weeks. Where before we had not interacted much, we now had no choice. Both sets of parents knew there was a lot going on between our children and it could mean so much to the witch world at large.

  I did notice from the corner of my eye that Bishop was giving Vincent the evil eye. I was pretty sure that Bishop wanted to throttle Vincent as much as I did. It gave me a slight thrill of pleasure, so much so that I had to suppress the smirk that threatened to shine from on my face. Somehow, I managed to give a subtle nod to the man. Bishop had no qualms about openly showing support, which he made clear when he gave me a decisive wink and a nod back. Both of us would do anything to protect our young.