A Hidden Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 2) (12 page)

She didn’t think of herself as a solitary
creature, but three days in a row of people-packed art show, and
she was ready to drop.

She sighed. And that was what Gran would call
utter hogwash. The Art Fair was an amazing experience, with so many
people loving her handcrafted glass trinkets. As an artist, she was
riding a wave of euphoria. As a witch—well, that was the proverbial
whale on the beach.

Truly, it was hard to think of herself as a
witch just yet. And even harder to think of herself as a witch with
a weird new power, especially when that new power didn’t seem much
good for anything.

Oh, it had been an amazing rush to feel the
whoosh inside her head as she activated her talent purposefully for
the first time. It shamed her a little to admit it, but it had also
been nice to see witches looking at her with magical respect for
once.

But growing up with Gran had instilled strong
values, and the first of those was that witches didn’t
have
magic—witches
did
magic, for the greater good of the
witching community and the planet.

So when the lights had gone on inside her head,
she’d asked the question any witch raised with Gran would ask.
“What can I do with it?”

Aervyn’s answer had left her empty. “I don’t
know, but it’s really pretty!”

If she wanted something pretty, she’d make a
necklace. Power was meant to work, to do, to give. If hers couldn’t
do anything, then she was a fairly useless witch.

Elorie realized she was now marching down the
beach like a two-year-old having a tantrum. She paused, wrapping
her arms around her waist.

She knew what she needed. Home.

She’d caught Aaron on her cell phone as she left
the Art Fair, but she really needed Gran’s wisdom right about now.
Gran had offered via the grapevine to stay up late for a video
chat, but Elorie had reached her limits with computers. She just
wanted to be home.

She realized her eyes were casting around the
beach. Silly girl, looking for sea glass on the wrong side of the
world. She was a fish out of water here. She wasn’t a coder, or a
modern witch. She was Elorie Shaw—artist, organizer, wife.

One more day as Elorie Shaw, art-fair sensation,
and then she would go home.

Moira:
Good morning, Nell.
How is my girl doing?

Nell:
She’s having a
wonderful time at the Art Fair. I’ve been hearing reports from
friends stopping by. It’s sounds like she’s one of the stars of the
show, and she’s already been invited back for next year.

Sophie:
I’m so happy for
her.

Lauren:
It’s no surprise—her
stuff is gorgeous, and I say that as someone who doesn’t usually
get all gooey over jewelry.

Nell:
Ha. She made a pendant
for the baby. Even Jamie got all gooey.

Moira:
She’s got a gift, and
I’m delighted to see her using it so well. And how is it with her
new powers?

Nell:
It’s a bit more rocky
there. She’s had a lot thrown at her all at once.

Lauren:
I so remember how
that feels.

Moira:
I was hoping to video
chat with her, but I think perhaps she’s avoiding me.

Lauren:
More likely she’s
avoiding the computer, Moira. They’re not her favorite objects
right now.

Moira:
Well, I can understand
that—they’re devilish little devices.

Lauren:
They hold the
mysterious thing that has upended her life. It’s a lot to deal with
all at once. She very much wants to see you—that much I couldn’t
avoid picking up from her. Her mental place of safety and security
is rooted at your kitchen table.

Moira:
That seems a lot to be
reading from her mind, my dear.

Lauren:
It’s not intentional.
Her mind is more open than anyone I’ve ever met. I have to
completely barrier to avoid her thoughts, and I can’t do that
during training and monitoring.

Moira:
That’s odd. Marcus
hasn’t said anything, and he’s a solid mind witch. Our witchlings
have picked up some of her stray thoughts, but they lack training
yet.

Lauren:
Now that I think of
it, I don’t remember noticing it when the two of you visited in the
spring, although I had a lot on my mind then.

Sophie:
Perhaps her new
magics are opening her mind channels. Didn’t you say Net power
looked a lot like mind power?

Lauren:
Duh. I bet you’re
right, Sophie. If accessing her power is blowing open her channels
like it did mine…

Moira:
Can you train her in
some barriers?

Lauren:
I’ll give it a try. I
only have one chance tonight; she heads home in the morning.

Moira:
See if you can get her
started. Ten-year-old boys don’t have the best of mental manners.
Are you still planning to come out with Nell and her brood, Lauren?
Perhaps you could help us out with Sean and Kevin. Marcus is not
the most ideal person to be training them—he can be a bit
gruff.

Sophie:
Making witchlings cry
again, is he?

Moira:
Not so far, but it
seems prudent to avoid that if we can.

Lauren:
I’d be happy to, and
I’ll do what I can with Elorie before we send her home.

Nell:
I talked with my
husband last night, Moira. Given where Elorie is at, and that my
two witchlings seem to share her power, we were thinking of coming
sooner rather than later. Can you handle us all in a few days?

Moira:
And won’t that be
delightful? Come anytime, Nell. My home is always open.

Nell:
Sophie, Lauren—can you
manage that?

Lauren:
I remember the days
when my career took priority in my life :-). That should be fine.
Half my clientele these days is witches, so I’ll just hang a
Gone to Witching School
sign on my door.

Moira:
Witches need new
homes, too, my dear. I’m glad they’re keeping you busy.

Lauren:
Busy doesn’t begin to
describe it. I almost believe some of them are moving just to have
an excuse to drop by for a visit. Sophie, can you get away? I was
hoping to see both you and Moira on this trip.

Sophie:
I never need much of
an excuse to come east. I’ll be there.

Nell:
Elorie’s thinking to
avoid all this by heading home, I think. We should let her know
we’ll be following close behind.

Lauren:
What, give a newbie
witch warning and a say in her life? Why on earth would you do
that? :-)

Nell:
We’re not bossy all the
time. Just mostly.

Moira:
I’m sure Elorie will
welcome you with open arms. Her heart is a hospitable one.

Nell:
I’ve already
tentatively booked rooms for most of us at their inn. Aaron said
they had a big party cancel, so assuming I can find flights, we’ll
be there on Wednesday. He says he’s ready to be overrun by
witches.

Sophie:
Yum, Aaron’s
breakfasts are stupendous. Lots of chocolate.

Lauren:
I’m there. My sense
is that Elorie will do better on her home turf, so if we have to
ambush her, this is probably the best way to do it.

Nell:
We’ll bring you over to
the dark side yet, Lauren…

Lauren snorted as she closed her computer. It
truly wasn’t that long ago that she would have protested more
loudly on Elorie’s behalf. However, they could hardly leave her
running around with a leaky brain and totally untrained magic. And
wow, she was starting to sound like Moira.

It was amazing how quickly your perspective
could change. Six months ago, she didn’t think witches existed.

Now she was leaving her real-estate practice
during one of the busiest times of the year to go hang out with a
couple of witches she missed dearly. She’d have fun helping with
the witchling training—but really, she wanted to see Moira’s
comforting face again and giggle with Sophie late into the
night.

She’d turned twenty-eight as downtown Chicago’s
youngest elite realtor. Next week, she’d turn twenty-nine while
teaching magical manners to young mind witches in some tiny village
in the middle of nowhere, Nova Scotia.

She could hardly wait.

~ ~ ~

Ginia grinned at her computer monitor. She had a
fiendish plan for total Realm domination, and she was about to
start training her secret weapon. Gandalf would never know what hit
him.

“So remember, Aunt Moira, it has to be a total
secret.”

Moira chortled from video chat. “I don’t think
anyone’s going to guess it’s me, dear one.”

She hoped not. It had taken some serious
convincing to talk her new trainee into this. She’d had to pull out
that whole “an untrained witch is a dangerous witch” line. Which
had been pretty smart, since Aunt Moira was like its inventor, or
something.

Ginia looked at the other side of her split
screen at the costume she’d rigged for Realm’s newest avatar. She
thought it was highly suitable for Warrior Girl’s sidekick, kind of
a cross between Cat Woman and Princess Leia. “How do you like your
character?”

“She’s lovely, but maybe I need a few more
clothes?”

“Nuh, uh. Clothes get in the way for
fighting.”

Moira looked a little distressed. “Witches try
not to fight, dear.”

Ginia grinned. “If you look like you’ll win a
fight, then you don’t have to fight very often. That’s why my name
is Warrior Girl. No one messes with warriors.”

“Ah. You’re a very sneaky witch, sweet girl. So
what shall my name be?”

“That’s up to you.” Ginia screwed up her face
into an evil menace. “It should be something that sounds powerful
and maybe a little scary.”

Moira giggled and thought for a moment. “Ah, I
have just the thing. How about Hecate?”

That didn’t sound very scary. “Who’s
Hecate?”

“Your witch history is lacking, child. We’ll
have to fix that when you come visit.”

Ginia had no idea how they’d gone from Realm
avatars to witch history, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t a good
direction to keep heading. “We want something really scary, Aunt
Moira. Gandalf isn’t gonna be easy to scare.”

“Ha!” Moira laughed. “Marcus knows who Hecate
is. He’ll be plenty scared, I promise you. She’s the Greek goddess
of magic and witchcraft, and a fierce warrior. She has a great big
dog as her familiar—can you perhaps make me one of those, and some
wee arrows?”

Ginia grinned. Oh, yeah. She most certainly
could. Game on.

“Okay, Aunt Moira. Let’s teach you how to move
your avatar around now.”

~ ~ ~

Elorie looked at Lauren, Ginia, and the big bowl
of soup waiting for her and grinned ruefully. “What is this, ambush
witch lessons?”

She wasn’t all that excited about more of those,
but she’d sold out of jewelry, and she was heading home in the
morning. Nothing could dim her good mood.

Ginia held out a basket of garlic bread. “I made
this from garlic I grew—it’s really good. We’re gonna have a
lesson, but you can eat first.”

Be grateful for small gifts, Elorie thought,
amused. She bit into the garlic bread, and butter oozed over her
tongue. To heck with lessons. The garlic bread rivaled Gran’s.

Lauren grinned and snagged another piece before
handing the basket back to Elorie. “You probably don’t realize it,
but your mind is really open right now. We need to help you barrier
a little, so you can keep your privacy.”

She blinked. They were reading her mind?

Lauren shook her head. “Not most of us, just the
mind witches in the group, and we’re all trying pretty hard to stay
out.”

Her inner thoughts were flapping in the wind?
Cripes. It had been that way with Uncle Marcus, but she’d just
thought he had bad manners. “Have I always been this way?” That
didn’t even bear thinking about.

“I don’t think so. No one remembers this from
the last time you visited. We’re thinking that maybe working with
your magic a little is opening your channels. That happened when
Jamie first started helping me with my mind powers.”

It had happened with some of their Nova Scotia
trainees as well, but it was very different to be the one with the
leaky head. Uncle Marcus had very little patience with
undisciplined minds. Oh, God. And the twins. She looked at Lauren,
trying not to panic. “Please tell me how to fix this.”

Lauren squeezed her hand. “Basic barriers are
pretty easy. In your case, you just need to block outgoing
thoughts, and that’s easier still. Don’t worry. We’re not going to
send you back to the evil Marcus with a naked brain.”

Ginia giggled, and Elorie felt her cheeks fire
up. She focused on her soup, trying to refuel for the work ahead.
She was not leaving this room until she could keep her thoughts to
herself.

An hour later, she was almost ready to rethink
that promise. Lauren was a thorough and patient instructor, but
they were making exactly zero progress. She had a strainer for a
brain, and she couldn’t plug any of the holes. So far, being a
witch sucked.

The three of them leaned back against the couch.
“Take a short break,” Lauren said, “and then we’ll try again.”

Ginia twiddled with an errant curl. “What if
we’re doing this all wrong?”

Elorie couldn’t stop her groan. Good grief, she
was beginning to sound like her students, complaining about a
little hard work.

“What do you mean?” Lauren handed out cookies,
which seemed to be in constant supply at Nell’s house.

“Well, what if Net power is a little like mind
power, but not all the way? It turned on the same, but maybe other
stuff works different.”