A Hidden Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 2) (4 page)

“Jamie and Nat are going to stay here,” Nell
said, “but Lauren would like to come. She’s turning into an able
trainer—with her mindspeaking, she could guide Sean through the
process of hooking into a full circle quite nicely.”

Moira’s heart warmed at the thought of seeing
Lauren again. She’d developed such a fondness for their first
“fetched” witch. And it was good to know they had a spellcaster of
some considerable talent to train, even if the method of discovery
had been a bit unorthodox.

She glanced toward Great Gran’s crystal ball,
sitting in its usual place in the corner of the room. Perhaps if
the darned thing had ever worked, they wouldn’t need all these
new-fangled witch tools. The old ones could be a tad
unreliable.

Ah, well. Witches made do with what they had.
“That’s quite the pot your little scanning spell has stirred up,
Nell. I’ll speak with Elorie about what we’ve discovered—she
coordinates training for the young ones.”

“Do that.” Nell frowned. “And if it turns out
the readings are right, we have a bigger mystery to solve.”

“And what’s that, dear?”

Sophie spoke gently. “The fetching spell said
Elorie has power, Aunt Moira. If this new tool of Nell’s is
accurate, she’ll need to be scanned again.”

Moira shook her head slowly. Her own power had
reached out to Elorie in hope time and time again, but found no
magic. It didn’t seem possible that a wee gadget could see what she
couldn’t. “It will cause her pain, just in the asking.”

“I know,” Sophie said. “So let’s not go there
just yet, and take one step at a time. Test Kevin first—see if he
has mind magic. If he does, then we can think about the next
step.”

“Aye. That much I can do. I’ll contact Marcus
myself.” Moira turned at the sound of running footsteps down her
hallway. “I’ll let you know what we find.”

“Blessed be, Aunt Moira.”

Elorie shook her head at Kevin. “Nope. My
favorite color’s not blue.”

Kevin scowled. “I think your brain looked a
little blue.”

Elorie handed him a bowl of blueberries, still
wet from a quick rinse after picking. “Maybe you’re just hungry.
Why don’t we wait until Uncle Marcus gets here, and then you can
try mindreading with someone who can help you?”

“I read about it all last night, ever since that
computer test said I might have mind powers.”

There was just no keeping secrets from
witchlings. “And how do you know that’s what the computer said?
Weren’t you in the back yard eating cookies?”

Kevin shrugged. “I dunno. I just knew it.” Then
his eyes got big. “Wait,
I just knew it.
Isn’t that a sign
of developing mind powers? Picking up things you’re not supposed to
know? I was just reading about that.”

He scrambled into his backpack for a book, but
Elorie didn’t need a reference guide. Gran had known the results of
the computer scan—and as a non-sensitive, she wouldn’t have the
barriers to keep out an emerging mind witch.

Kevin looked up from the page in his book, one
of Gran’s old, dusty ones. “It’s true, Elorie!” He squinted his
eyes and stared at her. “Think of your favorite color again.”

Elorie focused as hard as she could on red.
Strawberries. Fire engines. Blood. Eww. Back to strawberries.

He stared silently for a moment longer and then
shrugged. “Your brain still looks blue. Huh—I wonder what I’m doing
wrong.”

Probably eating too many blueberries. She closed
the book gently before he could dive back in. “Fortunately for you,
there’s a real mind witch coming over for tea, and you can ask him
all the questions you like.”

Kevin looked crestfallen. “I can’t read the
book?”

“Of course you can. You just can’t read it all
day long. I’ll bet you fell asleep reading under the covers again
last night, too.” She grinned at his look of surprise. It didn’t
take a mindreader to know that, given the dark circles under his
eyes, but she liked to keep her little secrets.

Elorie refilled his glass of milk. “Now
remember, Uncle Marcus is a very skilled witch, but he’s not used
to working with children.”

“You mean he doesn’t like us.”

Close enough, but since he was the strongest
mind witch in their little corner of the world, he was the right
person to test Kevin. He just lacked a fair amount in the bedside
manners department.

“He lives alone, Kev. Some witches like to be
very solitary, and Uncle Marcus is one of them. Sometimes that
makes it hard to know how to be around people. Just use your best
witchling manners, and it will be fine.”

And this visit, she wouldn’t be leaving the
room. The last time Marcus had tested one of her students, he’d
left behind a wake of tears and misery. Powerful witch or not, he
had no right to make small boys cry.

Elorie tried to clear any acrimonious thoughts
out of her head. When the witch in question could mindread, it was
better to be thinking about milk and berries when he arrived.
Judging from the voices outside, that event was imminent. She
patted Kevin’s hand and went to the door to greet her guests.

“Hi, Gran. Hello, Uncle Marcus, and welcome to
my home.”

“Blessed be.” Uncle Marcus scowled and peered
past her into the house. “Where is this student you want me to
test? You can bring him out—I’ve promised Aunt Moira I won’t eat
him for afternoon tea.”

So much for small talk. However, if Gran had
given him a stern talking-to as well, maybe they could get through
this testing without tears.

Elorie remembered how scary Uncle Marcus had
seemed when she was a little girl and he’d threatened to throw her
in his cauldron. Since—unlike most witches she knew—he actually had
a cauldron, she’d kept her distance for a very long time. In
hindsight, that had probably been his intent.

She stepped into the kitchen and gently closed
Kevin’s book again. “Uncle Marcus, this is Kevin. He’s my nephew,
and a big reader, as you can see.” The two had actually met before,
but Uncle Marcus was awful with names and relationships, even
though that was a basic life skill in Nova Scotia.

Marcus sat down at the kitchen table and studied
Kevin. Elorie put out a plate of treats and several cups of tea,
and tried to be invisible. She didn’t want to disrupt the testing,
but she had no intention of leaving the kitchen. Since Gran was
making herself very comfortable with a cup of tea and a cookie, it
looked like Uncle Marcus was just going to have to cope with some
observers.

Kevin tended to the quiet side of things, but he
wasn’t shy. He met Marcus’s gaze for several moments, and then
asked the important question. “So, do I have mind magic?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What is my favorite
color?”

Kevin concentrated.

“No, no, no.” Marcus slammed his hand on the
table. “You’re trying far too hard. You need to relax your mind,
not clench it up like a fist.”

Elorie rescued her fallen spoon. No one was
going to be doing a lot of relaxing if he kept pounding on the
table. Well, except for Gran, who was stirring her tea as if
nothing had happened. The gentle, calming scent of chamomile wafted
over the table. Hmm. Perhaps Gran was doing a little more than just
stirring.

Kevin shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Most people have very messy minds. They leave
their thoughts hanging out where anyone can see them. Your Aunt
Elorie here is worried I’m going to make you cry.”

Kevin looked fascinated. “What else can you
see?”

Marcus sat silent until Moira raised her
eyebrow. Twice. “You’re curious about why her mind looks blue
today. It likely means you have some empathic talent.”

Kevin cocked his head. “Empathic witches see
feelings as colors?”

“Isn’t that what I just said, youngling?”

“So Elorie’s sad, then.”

“Obviously.” Marcus didn’t sound the least bit
perturbed about her emotional state, and Elorie was rather dismayed
her privacy was that easy to invade.

Moira’s spoon clinked in her tea and she spoke
pointedly. “Polite mind witches don’t read the thoughts or feelings
of others without their permission.”

Marcus grunted. “I’ve never been a polite
witch.”

The sound of a giggle shocked everyone. Kevin
seemed mortified to discover it had come from his mouth.

Elorie held her breath as Marcus’s scowl
deepened, but when he spoke, his tone was relatively civil. “With
all these messy minds around, you don’t need to work hard to hear
what people think. You only need to open your mind a little, and
their thoughts will come to you. Unfortunately.”

Elorie started walking through the steps to bake
oatmeal cookies in her mind. Perhaps that would keep her more
embarrassing thoughts quiet.

Kevin considered for a moment. “But your mind
isn’t messy, so how can I hear your favorite color?”

“You’re a thinking witch.” Marcus nodded
grudgingly. “That’s good. You can’t hear my mind unless I want you
to. Right now, I’m sending that thought out toward you. I want to
see if you can open your mind enough to hear it.”

“How do I do that?”

“It will require some actual effort on your
part. Magic is hard work.”

Kevin scowled. “You just told me not to work so
hard. Training’s hard work, too, and I need your help.”

Elorie looked on in shock, wishing she’d ever
shown that kind of guts, and Gran hid a smile behind her cup of
tea.

Marcus nodded shortly and tapped the book on the
table. “Pretend you’re reading, where your brain is focused, but
ready to learn something new.”

Kevin thought for a moment, and then closed his
eyes. Moments later, they popped open. “Orange!”

Elorie tried not to let her disappointment show.
Marcus never wore anything but black. There was no chance his
favorite color was something as bright and cheerful as orange.

“Not bad. Perhaps you’ll make a decent witch one
day.”

Uncle Marcus’s favorite color was
orange
?

Marcus picked up a handful of berries. “Now,
tell me what else you heard.”

Kevin blushed and looked down at the table. “I
didn’t mean to.”

Marcus snorted. “My mind isn’t messy. This is a
test, my young witchling. A decent mind witch should have picked up
more than just a color.”

Straightening his shoulders, Kevin answered.
“You have an itch on the back of your neck. You wish Elorie put
raisins in her cookies.” He paused, and then spoke in a voice full
of soft sorrow. “And you miss your brother.”

Dead silence. Elorie could see Gran’s face pale
as a very dark moment of family history got yanked into the
light.

Marcus’s voice was very husky, and probably not
as gruff as he thought it was. “Aye. I do. And it’s hazelnuts her
cookies need, not raisins. You need to practice.”

Kevin stood up and wrapped his arms around
Marcus’s neck. “You’re not as mean as they said.”

Elorie wondered when she’d landed on the alien
planet where Uncle Marcus tolerated hugs from children. Then his
deep voice spoke inside her head.
I’m not quite as old and
crotchety as you think, my dear. And you keep forgetting the flour
in those mental cookies you’re making.

Marcus touched Kevin’s back awkwardly. “Enough.
Go find someone else to bother.” He looked at Moira as Kevin raced
out the back door. “He’ll need training, and clearly no one else
here is competent enough to handle it. Now, tell me about this new
scan that found his powers.”

Uncle Marcus
was going to help with
training? Elorie looked around for flying pigs.

Moira sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “It’s
something Nell did with her fancy spellcoding. I don’t pretend to
understand it. The children each held my computer mouse, and Nell
got a reading on their powers. Most we already knew, but it
suggested Kevin might have mind talents.”

“It shouldn’t have taken a computer to see
that.”

“And it wouldn’t have, if our best mind witch
wasn’t a hermit.” Oooh, Gran was steamed. “When was the last time
you bothered to come check the young ones for talent?”

Marcus’s face could have been made of stone.
“You know where to reach me, and you know how to do a basic
scan.”

Now it was Elorie’s temper bubbling. “It’s never
any one witch’s job to monitor all the young ones.” She hurled her
next thought—if her mind was as leaky as all that, he should hear
it well enough.
I can’t, and she’s getting old.

She thought he looked a little pained, at least.
“It’s good his talent was found, one way or the other. And now we
need to test Elorie as well, do we not?”

Gran looked horrified. A sick feeling slid into
Elorie’s gut. “What do you mean?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Kevin’s been
mindreading more than you all realize.” He looked at Moira. “What
in tarnation is going on here?”

Gran picked up Elorie’s hands. “I’m sorry,
child. I was trying to keep you from getting hurt, and I’ve truly
messed this up. You know that Nell’s fetching spell pulled you into
Witches’ Chat the other day.”

Elorie nodded. “Sure, but wasn’t there something
wrong with Nell’s code?”

Marcus snorted. “I doubt it. Nell’s a very
talented witch.”

“How would you know?” Elorie’s temper was
spiking again. “You’ve probably only seen her twice in the last
five years.”
And if you were your usual friendly self, she ran
screaming the other way.
She no longer cared if he heard that
or not.

I’m not deaf. And you’re having a temper
tantrum better suited to a witchling.
His face was back to
imitating a statue. “Nell and Jamie do some impressive spellwork
for the witch-only levels of Enchanter’s Realm.”

Elorie had that alien planet feeling again. “You
know about their video game?”

“I’m the third-highest ranked witch in
Realm.”