A Hidden Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 2) (26 page)

A small hand slid into his. Aervyn. The black
mood backed off, just a little. “I wrote a spell. Will you come
watch while I set it off? Ginia says I need supervision.”

Since Aervyn hadn’t been able to string together
three lines of functional code so far, Marcus doubted supervision
was required. But for some reason, it wasn’t in him to resist the
tugs of the small boy who looked so much like Evan.

He sat down and glanced briefly at Aervyn’s
code. Well, hallelujah. Five lines of a login spell, with only one
small glitch in line four. The child might actually get into Realm
this time. “Go ahead, set it off.”

Aervyn focused and clicked on his mouse. Then
everything went black.

Marcus felt a strange sucking sensation and a
moment of dizziness. “Who goes there?” said an oddly familiar
voice. He opened his eyes and saw the head guard of his Realm
mountain keep, still wearing his bunny slippers. Those had been
unusually resistant to any and all reversing spells.

“What manner of infiltrator are you?”

Marcus realized he was lying on his back
contemplating bunny-slipper spells while an armed man pointed a
sword at his neck.

What in the heavens was he doing inside Realm?
And evidently not in costume.

The guard suddenly toppled over and curled up,
snoring. “We can do real magic here,” Ginia said, dusting off her
hands. “At least I can. I hit him with a sleep spell. So, how come
we’re in Realm?” She seemed very unconcerned.

“I don’t think we’re the only ones,” Marcus
said. “Aervyn activated a login spell right before I got dumped
here.”

Ginia’s eyes opened wide. “Aervyn got spellcode
to work?”

Marcus frowned. “It appears that way. And I
guess this is what you get when someone with his level of power
manages to pull off five decent lines of code.” Although clearly
that glitch in line four had been rather more serious than he’d
realized.

“So, where is he?” Ginia looked around, a lot
more worry on her face.

Marcus opened his mouth to yell for Aervyn, and
then closed it again, realizing that was a waste of air. If real
magics had come with them, then he and the witchling were both
mindreaders. He cast out with his mind.
Aervyn. Where are
you
?

The reply was strong and happy.
I’m in a
castle with a princess. She’s feeding me bread and honey. Am I
asleep?

Don’t think so, my boy. I think you pulled us
all into the game
.

Wow, are we like superheroes now?
Awesome
!

Hardly awesome, Marcus thought. But the first
step was to gather the troops.
Can you port to where I am? Ask
the princess if you can have the bread to bring
.

Moments later, Aervyn thunked into place beside
him, carrying a good-sized bag with several loaves of bread and a
pot of honey. Clearly the princess was generous.

“Are we gonna rescue the princess?” Aervyn
asked, his mouth still full of bread.

“Ha,” Ginia said. “I’ve met her. She doesn’t
need to be rescued.”

The princess in question was one of Marcus’s
stealth warrior creations. She had strong magic, excellent fighting
skills, and a blessed lack of the almost universal female need to
talk all the time. His perfect woman. If she’d caused Warrior Girl
some consternation, all the better.

Aervyn swallowed the last of his food. “Should
we go help Sophie? She’s fighting pretty good, but there are two
more big guys coming.”

Marcus spun around in disgust. This was why
amateurs shouldn’t be spellcoding. “Which way?”

They all ran down the trail after Aervyn. Sophie
wasn’t far away, but one of the fighters attacking her had laid
down a silencing spell, presumably so no one would come running to
her aid.

Marcus took a fraction of a second to appreciate
Sophie’s extremely impressive kung fu moves, and then borrowed
Ginia’s trick and knocked out all three fighters with a sleep
spell.

Aervyn hopped up and down. “Can I get the last
two? Pretty, pretty please?” Two big warriors crested over the
hill, approaching at a dead run.

Nell was going to have his hide for this. “Just
a sleep spell, youngling.”

Marcus was pretty sure the two warriors would
sleep for a century. Aervyn’s magic was not subtle when he got
excited.

“Thanks,” Sophie said, gasping for breath. “I
was about out of tricks there. What are we doing here?”

“Aervyn ported us in,” Ginia said. “Marcus
didn’t check his code well enough, I guess.”

Aervyn grinned. “I told you I needed
supervising.”

Gah. It really was his fault. That fourth line
of code had definitely looked wonky.

“Are Aunt Moira and Elorie in Realm too?” Ginia
asked.

“Nope,” Aervyn said, shaking his head. Marcus
cast out mentally to double check. Good. Two less people to worry
about.

Sophie grabbed a hunk of Aervyn’s bread. “So,
Super Boy, can you get us out of here?”

Aervyn shook his head. “Nope. But I bet Mama
can. She knows all about reversing spells.”

Sophie looked up at Marcus. “Nell went berry
picking with Aaron, Mike, and the twins. They’re not going to be
back until after lunch.”

It just got worse and worse. “In that case,
let’s go to the castle and see if the princess can scare us up some
more food. We’re going to have a long wait, and I don’t want anyone
getting cranky.”

Ginia giggled and held out a loaf. “Have some
more bread, Gandalf.”

He scowled. No one was taking this seriously.
“We could be stuck here for a long time, little fighter. Have you
thought of that? Aunt Moira and Elorie are hardly going to be
coming to our rescue.” Neither of them could code their way out of
a paper bag.

Sophie grinned along with Ginia. “Oh, I think
you may be underestimating the two of them.”

“Hardly. I’ve been training Elorie myself. She’s
not capable of coding a reversing spell. She’s barely capable of
coding any spell.”

“Sometimes, nephew,” said a strange voice, “you
think too little of others.” He spun around. The voice belonged to
the Xena look-alike he’d heard was training with Ginia.

Ginia ran over and hugged the new arrival. “Aunt
Moira, you’re so smart.”

Aunt Moira
?

“I’m sorry to spill our little secret, my dear,
but it seemed like it might be the best way to get you out quickly.
Marcus is correct—neither Elorie nor I can solve this with coding,
so we’ve another idea.”

Good God. It was Aunt Moira. In the highest
level in Realm, and clearly this wasn’t her first visit.

One of the guards started to stir, and Moira
calmly zapped him with a new sleep spell. “Elorie is going to use
Net power to pull us out, and she needs us to shape some spells for
her. It’s handy that all of your magic seems to be working.”

Marcus was still trying to process Warrior
Girl’s sheer deceit and trickery. Training Aunt Moira as her secret
weapon was daft. Insane. And brilliant.

Sophie tapped him on the shoulder. “Focus. You
can contemplate the likely magnitude of your defeat later.”

Impossible. He wasn’t going down to a
nine-year-old girl and a woman in her seventies. The he realized
Sophie hadn’t been surprised when Xena had shown up. Good God.
Maiden, Mother, and Crone. They were going to take over Realm.

Ginia met his gaze, supreme confidence in her
eyes. Oh, yes. He was going down.

Moira picked Aervyn up and twirled him around,
clearly enjoying the vibrant youth of her Xena avatar. “Perhaps
we’ll just take you home, and leave these three who aren’t paying
attention.”

Aervyn giggled and shook his head. “Nuh, uh. I
like it here. I wanna stay.”

Moira tossed him in the air. “Aaron left Monster
Mac and Cheese for lunch.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll go, but I wanna come back
and play again sometime.”

“Let’s see about getting out first, my dear boy,
and then we’ll see about a return visit.” Moira turned to the
others. “Ginia, Elorie needs for you to form a link between real
and game that she can grab. My sweet boy here needs to ready a
teleporting spell strong enough to carry four people. Sophie and
Marcus, whatever power you can feed to either of them would be
helpful.”

Marcus nodded. It was a surprisingly reasonable
plan. “I think we’re most useful supporting Ginia’s outbound
link.”

Aervyn frowned, counting on his fingers. “Why
only four, Aunt Moira? Am I staying?”

She laughed. “Not today, sweetling. My lovely
young warrior body will stay here. It’s not real, remember. I’m
really sitting in my chair, looking at my computer screen and
wanting to tickle your belly.”

Aervyn covered his belly and giggled. “Okay, but
I’m coming back to play sometime.”

Whatever complaints Marcus had about his
companions, they were all well-trained witches. Within moments,
they had the necessary spells ready to go. Now it was up to Elorie.
She had the raw talent. It was her training and her will that were
sometimes in question, particularly when computers were
involved.

Slowly the spellshape in Ginia’s hand began to
shimmer. Then it gently expanded and settled over all of them like
a dome. He looked up at the glowing light. Aye. The girl had
talent.

Aervyn held steady as his spellshape began to
move next. It wove and darted, linking into the dome of light in
hundreds of places. Marcus shook his head. Elorie was overbuilding
the spell, a common error of inexperienced spellcasters.

Then came the dark, and a deep sucking
sensation. When he opened his eyes, his niece had her nose three
inches from his face, and she didn’t look happy. “Don’t doubt me
again. It weakens the magic.”

Anger flared and died, guilt hard on its heels.
She was absolutely right. “It’s your training I doubted, niece, but
even that was wrong. My apologies. It won’t happen again.”

She looked at him in absolute shock.

“That was awesome cool magic,” Ginia said,
oblivious to the undertones in the room. “Maybe after lunch we
could try it again. Uncle Jamie would be so jazzed if we could zap
everyone into Realm.”

“Let’s have lunch before we contemplate such
things.” Moira touched Marcus’s arm and spoke quietly. “For a man
who never apologizes, that was well done. Take the witchlings
now—I’d like a word with my granddaughter.”

Marcus did as he was told.

~ ~ ~

Moira chuckled as Marcus walked off. She
wondered how long it would take him to realize he was wearing pink
bunny slippers. Ginia’s doings, she imagined.

She turned to her beloved girl. “Ginia’s right,
sweetling. It was wonderful magic. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

Elorie’s expressive face was a tangle of
frustration and hurt. “It doesn’t feel like me, Gran. Every time I
do magic, there are wires and computers everywhere.”

“Aye, child. And you’ve done lovely things with
that magic. My pool is the envy of every witch living, and probably
a few who’ve passed, as well.”

Elorie’s face softened even as tears threatened.
“That’s just it. Making your pool almost felt right. I was part of
a working circle, and we did magic that mattered.”

She paused, taking a couple of jerky breaths.
“But then we had Sean’s circle on the beach, and part of my heart
wished I could go back to being Elorie who plays her flute in the
outer circle. Elorie of no magic.”

Elorie who knew how she belonged. Moira settled
in a chair. This called for careful handling. “I think I was nine
the first time I wanted to give my magic back. My friends were
taking a trip to the beach, and I had to stay home and study witch
history.”

Elorie sighed. “Is that what this is? Just a
witchling tantrum? It feels bigger than that.”

Moira reached for her granddaughter’s hands.
“It’s not always convenient being a witch, my sweet girl. I hope
you will continue to be Elorie the flute player, because you’re
wrong—there is a great deal of magic in that. But you are a witch,
and even when that responsibility lays heavy, it’s not one to be
ignored.”

“I know. You’ve taught me well.”

Such sorrow. Moira’s heart ached. “It appears
that what I haven’t taught you nearly so well is the joy of magic.
It’s such a gift you have. Magic is not always a burden.”

Elorie shook her head. “It’s not that. Weight I
could handle. But why do I have magic that works best in some game?
You heard Ginia. I don’t want to be a shuttle service for witches
who need a ride into their computer.”

Ah. Still seeking her purpose, too. Moira
ignored the petulance and dug for what mattered. “What
do
you want?”

Elorie sniffled. “I want to sit in the garden
with you and help the flowers to bloom.”

Some wishes were more easily granted than
others. Moira picked a flower bud out of the table vase and
prepared a simple blooming spell. She held them both out toward
Elorie.

Her granddaughter touched the flower gently,
smiling as it opened under her fingers.

Moira leaned over and tucked the flower into
Elorie’s hair. “Such magic you have in you, my love. Every witch
must find their own path. If yours doesn’t involve transportation
for Realm players, that is for you to choose.”

She paused, debating whether to go on. “But
think on this, granddaughter. I haven’t been able to toss a
witchling in the air in thirty years. You brought joy to me and
that sweet boy today. It’s not all wires and technology. The hearts
and minds are as real as those on the beach under the
moonlight.”

She touched Elorie’s cheeks. “It’s love that is
at the very core of witch tradition, my darling girl. The rest is
just trappings.”

Elorie tried not to grumble as she settled onto
the inn’s back porch. Witch lessons were putting a serious dent in
her studio time, and her fingers still yearned to create. She
touched the heart hanging around her neck.