A Hidden Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 2) (25 page)

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-spring 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.”

Sean turned white. Clearly that possibility
hadn’t occurred to him.

Moira rolled her eyes. “Marcus, go make me some
tea and stop scaring the children.” She held her arms out to Sean.
“It was wonderful magic, and it will keep giving every time I visit
this pool with my aches and pains and creaky joints. Come, join
me.”

Every witchling in the garden took that as an
invitation, which was probably as she had intended.

Elorie wondered how many witches they could fit
in the pool. She suspected they were about to find out.

With delicate moves and sure fingers, Elorie
finished attaching the clasp to her first creation since she’d
returned from California. Paperwork, magic, and visitors had all
conspired to keep her away from her studio far too long.

Her fingers and her heart had needed to create
again, even if it was 5:30 a.m.

She’d walked past Gran’s new soaking pool on the
way to her studio. With the number of witches waiting a turn last
night, she’d been mildly surprised not to find anyone asleep in the
warm water. The temptation to crawl in again herself had been high,
but her glass had beckoned. The pool would wait; her need to create
wouldn’t.

She’d dipped into her most special jar of
treasures for this one. The violet glass was a color she’d never
seen before or since finding this particular bit of loveliness.
Obviously hand-blown, it had streaks of red and blue running
through the depths of the glass, making it look almost alive, and
somehow, its eons in the ocean hadn’t marred the perfect heart
shape.

She held the small glass heart in her hand and
felt, as she always did, like it beat for her. A flat rim of silver
wrapped around it now, and attached to a chain of delicate handmade
links.

It wasn’t often she claimed a piece of her own
artwork. This one would be hers; it always had been.

She had just done up the clasp when a sound at
the door had her turning around.

“Good morning,” Sophie said, two cups of tea in
her hands. “Is it okay to interrupt? Aaron thought you might be
ready for a little breakfast.”

Elorie looked longingly at her jars of glass.
She wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.

Sophie smiled. “He knows you well. Don’t
worry—if I’m not back up there in a few minutes, Aervyn will port
us some breakfast. If you throw me out, he’ll send down breakfast
for one.”

Elorie’s stomach let out an audible growl. She
laughed and motioned to her other chair. “Apparently, breakfast
sounds good.”

Sophie grinned. “Breakfast will be delivered to
Aunt Moira’s pool.”

Excellent. It looked like she was going to get a
morning soak after all. She picked up her cup of tea and followed
Sophie out of the studio and down the path to Gran’s garden.

Mists were still rising off the pool, and it was
miraculously still unoccupied. Some of their travelers had headed
home, but there were plenty who remained, guests in nearby homes.
Not everyone was a morning witch—she’d have to remember it was a
good time to wander over for a dip.

“Good morning, my lovelies! Come to have a soak
in my pool, have you?” Moira walked out her back door, wearing a
light robe.

She set her cup of tea down on a convenient flat
stone and unbelted her robe. Elorie felt her eyes fall out of her
head. Gran was naked!

Moira laughed. “In deference to the climate
here, I don’t work skyclad like I did as a girl, but trust me, it’s
the very best way to experience a hot spring. Nell’s playing
gatekeeper in the kitchen. We won’t be disturbed.”

Sophie shrugged and peeled off her bikini.
Elorie paused, trying to wrap her mind around the idea that Gran
had ever done magic wearing only moonlight. However, the blissful
sighs of the other two as they settled into the warm waters got her
moving again.

If Gran could skinny dip, she surely could
too.

As she settled into the water, a tray with
fragrant scones and strawberries materialized at the side of the
pool. Bless Aervyn. She could get used to having a teleporting
witchling around.

“Aaron’s such a good man,” Moira said, handing
out scones. “Here, Sophie—you first, dear. As I remember, pregnant
bellies aren’t very patient.”

Sophie blushed. “I had three before I left the
inn. For someone the size of a pinhead, this is one very hungry
baby.”

“There’s more than just the baby to grow. You’ve
been monitoring yourself, I hope?”

Sophie grinned. “Of course. I’m a well-trained
witch.” Then she held out a hand. “Would you like to look?”

Moira smiled in delight and moved to place her
hand on Sophie’s belly. Elorie watched in fascination as a few
moments later, Gran’s other hand touched Sophie’s temples, and then
the back of her neck. She’d seen the same done for a headache or
two, but not for a pregnant woman.

Gran caught the question in Elorie’s eyes and
smiled. “It’s a wee bit of a hangover is all.”

Elorie stared. Sophie wasn’t a big drinker.

Moira laughed. “Not that kind of hangover. A
touch of wine is fine for a babe, but nothing more. This is just
some aftereffects of yesterday’s magic. We all worked very
hard.”

Pride blossomed again as Elorie looked around at
the pool. They had done some very good work.

Moira touched Sophie’s cheek. “All fixed up,
although I think these marvelous waters were taking care of most of
it for you.”

She glided over to Elorie. “Are you feeling any
aftereffects of yesterday, sweetling?”

Elorie shook her head, wanting to dodge a
healing scan. She wasn’t at all sure what Gran might find, and not
quite ready to know the answer. However, she had a question that
had been niggling, and this might be a good time to ask. “Will
magic affect Sophie’s baby at all?”

“Affect? Of course,” Moira said, her eyes
twinkling. “Babies are very elemental creatures, and I think they
feel the power flows more readily than we do. But harm? No. It
would have to harm Sophie first, and she’s well-trained enough to
prevent that in anything other than the worst of
circumstances.”

She touched Elorie’s hand gently, her eyes more
serious now. “A witch with less training would want to be sure her
channels were being cleared regularly. Otherwise, power remnants
could cause a babe some distress.”

Elorie nodded. Messaged received, Gran, loud and
clear.

~ ~ ~

Marcus looked around the parlor of the inn. Such
a motley crew of students. He had insisted on another spellcoding
lesson. His reinforcements in that area were heading back to
California in two days, and he wanted as much of their help as he
could get.

That, and the longer he kept Ginia training, the
less trouble she could heap on him in Realm. It amused him that she
was currently helping to train his secret weapon. It wasn’t an easy
task. Elorie wasn’t a dumb witch, but when it came to spellcoding,
she was a brick-headed one.

“Stop scowling, nephew,” Moira said. “You’ll
scare your students.”

“I wish. Have you gotten that login spell
working yet?”

“Not at all,” she said, shrugging. “It wiggled a
bit, but I’m just too old for this, I think.”

Ginia giggled from the other side of the table.
Marcus shot her a suspicious look, but refrained from a
less-than-ethical mindread. She was up to something, but darned if
he knew what it was.

Moira put down her mouse. “She’s an excellent
trainer, our Ginia. The young ones are coming along very
nicely.”

There was truth to that. Kevin was developing
into a solid coder, and even Lizzie, who had only the small-sparks
kind of Net power, appeared to have some spellcoding talent.

Aunt Moira, however, was a dead loss, and Elorie
was far too resistant to use her magic effectively.

“It’s not what she wanted,” Moira said softly,
following his gaze. “Give her time. Yesterday helped, but she has
some steps to travel yet.”

“She’s wasting a prodigious talent.”

“No, my dear. She’s learning to live with it.
Some of us move to acceptance more slowly than others.”

He glanced at her sharply. Aunt Moira was fond
of making her point in roundabout ways. She had never entirely
approved of his isolated life. “Some things are not meant to be
accepted.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really now. And
would that be a tolerable answer from Elorie?”

That was entirely different. He’d lost a brother
because his magic wasn’t strong enough. Elorie was denying the full
potential of her magic.

He felt the black mood creeping in. It really
was time to leave this place and go home.