A Hidden Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 2) (35 page)

“I kept thinking last night about how lucky we
were,” Sophie said. “If this had happened just a month ago, when
your magic was still hidden, we wouldn’t have been able to bring
her here, or do half of what we did to heal her. You saved her
life.”

“Getting her here wouldn’t have mattered a bit
without your skills.” Elorie gripped Sophie’s hand. “Gran always
said healing was the most exalted of magics. She’s right.”

Sudden humor hit Sophie’s eyes. “She only said
that to keep us all stirring potions in herbals class.”

Elorie grinned in memory. It felt good to think
of Gran in those moments—strong, and alive, and giving witchlings a
touch of grief for not paying enough attention.

So many had come to Gran’s aid. Her witchlings,
pushing love and life into those precious flowers. The coding
geniuses of Realm. A four-year-old powerhouse and the gentlest of
teleportation spells. Lauren walking around with Great Gran’s
crystal ball and encouraging hearts to believe. So many had given
anything that was needed.

Such love for Gran. Peace settled into Elorie’s
heart, and gratitude that she’d been able to do her small part.

The door of Moira’s temporary residence opened,
and Meliya stuck her head out. “She’s awake.”

~ ~ ~

It was most unpleasant to actually feel your
age. Moira tried to wiggle her fingers and groaned at the
effort.

“Easy, Aunt Moira. We’ll sit you up now.”
Sophie’s voice was soothing, as any healer’s should be. It grated
at Moira’s soul. Good. Grumpy patients made faster recoveries.

Gentle hands propped her up and tucked pillows
behind her back. Moira realized it all seemed very dark. The blurry
moon of the night before swam into her mind. Perhaps whatever had
happened had taken her sight.

Elorie’s soothing voice this time. “Can you open
your eyes, Gran?”

Her eyes were still shut? Well, of all the silly
things. No wonder it was dark.

“I think they’re crusted shut.” A moist cloth
carefully wiped her eyes, along with the slight tingle of a light
healing spell. “There now, give it a try.”

Opening her eyes had never seemed like so much
work. The first sights of light and shadow were still terribly
blurry. Then efficient hands slid a pair of glasses into place. “Do
these help? Meliya bespelled them for you to use while your eyes
heal.”

Moira blinked several times. Oh, yes. Those were
splendid. She could see quite well now. She smiled at her beloved
girls.

Sophie grinned back, the pleasure of a happy
healer in her eyes. Elorie’s smile was a lot more wobbly.

Sophie put a quiet hand on Elorie’s shoulder.
“It’s normal, and quite temporary.” She sat down on the edge of the
bed. “You’ve had a stroke, Aunt Moira. It’s affected the right side
of your body, so your smile is a little crooked yet.”

A stroke. So she had almost died, then.

She tried to call enough power for a healing
trance to see for herself what had happened. Sophie rolled her eyes
and shook her head. “There’s plenty of time for that later. Save
your strength.”

She gently picked up Moira’s hands. “Can you
squeeze my fingers?”

Moira focused on her hands. The left one
squeezed fairly normally for an old woman who had almost died. The
right one moved and shook, but couldn’t grip Sophie’s fingers.

As a healer, she knew it was quite good news
that it had moved at all. As a woman with a hand that didn’t do as
she asked—well, that was a wee bit scary. “I guess I won’t be
walking for a bit, then.”

The raspy voice, she had expected. But even to
her ears, her words had been garbled beyond recognition. Elorie
laid gentle fingers on her lips. “Wait. I have an idea.”

She walked out of Moira’s field of vision.
Sophie leaned in. “You’ll be singing to this babe of mine. Just
give it time.”

Ah, Sophie. A good healer doesn’t make promises
she can’t deliver.

Elorie slid back in the door, Lauren at her
heels. Sophie’s eyes brightened. “You’re a genius, little
sister.”

Moira met Lauren’s eyes.
If my mind’s a
vegetable, don’t you be letting these two know it, now.

Lauren burst into relieved laughter. “You sound
just like your normal self in there. Hang on a moment while I put
mindlinks in place so everyone can hear you.” She glanced at
Sophie. “Will that be okay?”

Sophie nodded, and Moira felt a mindlink click
into place.
Hello, my lovelies. So tell me about this place I’m
in, and how I got here.

Three beaming faces started talking over each
other. It was a delightful clatter. She listened for a while, and
then held up a hand. It wobbled a bit, but did the job.

So let me be sure I have this right. I’ve
been ported into Realm, saved by a team of the witching world’s
best healers, and no one’s brought me tea yet?

Sophie grinned in delight. “There really isn’t
anything at all wrong with your mind, is there? Tea’s on the way,
along with some homemade broth.”

Moira scowled. Ever since she was a little girl,
she’d truly detested broth.

Elorie giggled. “Well, you made the rest of us
drink it often enough.”

That’s because it’s good for you, child.

Elorie patted her hand. “You just remember that
when you have to drink cups and cups of it today.”

Perhaps one of the witchlings could come to
distract her. And maybe she could talk one of them into sneaking
her a wee scone to have with her tea.

Lauren snorted and patted her hand. “Good luck
with that.”

Drat. Having her every thought heard was going
to have some downsides.

Sophie’s eyes twinkled. “That will be good
motivation to practice talking.”

Surely a sick old woman deserves a little
spoiling
?

Lauren grinned and looked at Sophie, who nodded.
“If you’re feeling up to it, there are a whole lot of people who’d
like to lay eyes on a sick old woman.”

And wasn’t that the point of visitors, to
distract the sick from the nasty things healers forced upon
them?

Sophie pushed a button on the wall. “Jamie, can
you take down the walls again? Aunt Moira’s ready to see some
friendly faces.”

Moira gasped as the walls fell and the sky
opened above her head. Perhaps the low-hanging moon hadn’t been a
dream.

Then she saw the faces, and the flowers. Dozens
of people—no, hundreds. So many of those she loved—witch and
non-witch, from the village and from the other side of the world.
With the same message of love in every set of eyes.

And, oh. Every one of them clutched handfuls of
irises and peach blossoms. For health and long life.

Her heart spilled over with the joy of it.

~ ~ ~

Sophie wandered through her herbals room, gently
touching each jar and bundle of hanging herbs. The room smelled
lightly of the lavender she’d harvested and hung at the last full
moon. Aervyn had taxied her home to gather some things she would
need to care for Aunt Moira.

She’d come to collect. She’d also come to say
goodbye.

This house was her haven. While she loved the
bonds of communal magic, in her heart, she was a solitary witch. Or
perhaps, a solitary woman who happened to be a witch. Even as a
small girl, she’d spent many happy hours alone, wandering the
forests or the beach, or sitting quietly in a café watching the
world go by.

This house in Colorado had been her retreat. Her
solace. The place she’d planted herself when it had become clear
Fisher’s Cove couldn’t be her home.

She loved it so much she’d built its double in
Realm. Other players had castles and keeps, or sorcerer’s cottages.
She had an odd little mid-century ranch house with spectacular
gardens. It would still be there to comfort her as she left the
real home of her heart behind.

Gently she closed the door of her herbals room
and left her gathering bag by the door. Her gardens called, one
last time. She touched the dahlias and columbine, inhaled the
lemony scent of sorrel, and laughed quietly at the mint, which had
managed to take over half the garden in her two-day absence.

Hopefully the new owners would like mint
tea.

She let her tears fall. There was no better
place than a garden to soak up sorrows and turn them to good use.
These were not entirely unhappy tears. Change was coming in her
life, and much of it was very good.

A wonderful man awaited her and the child they
had made together. And Aunt Moira was doing amazingly well for
someone who had suffered a catastrophic stroke.

But she would need care. Long-term care from a
trained healer.

There were others who would serve, others who
would help. The witching community always took care of their own,
and Aunt Moira was the most beloved of witches. It wasn’t necessary
for Sophie to go, to uproot and leave her home.

But it was right.

Even as tears fell and she said her goodbyes,
her heart was sure. The next chapter of her life would be written
in Fisher’s Cove.

~ ~ ~

“She wants to go home.” Elorie sat on the arm of
Aaron’s chair, having done one of her best things and convened a
meeting. “Is that possible?”

“I hope so.” Nell grinned. “She’s getting as
grumpy as Aervyn when he’s sick.”

Elorie sighed. That was the reason for the
meeting. “I know. I keep reminding myself that cranky patients get
better more quickly.”

Sophie laughed. “I’m beginning to think she
taught us that all those years to make a good excuse for her bad
behavior now.” She sobered. “We can definitely
get
her
home—she’s well enough to be transported. But she’s going to need a
lot of care once she gets there. Are we ready for that?”

Aaron squeezed Elorie’s waist. “I can make sure
she’s got lots of bland, mushy stuff to eat. No broth.”

Elorie giggled. Gran had practically thrown the
last cup of soup at the poor witch delegated to get her to drink
it. The good news was that she’d thrown it with her right hand. As
a result, Sophie had ordered cups of broth sent in every thirty
minutes. Throwing things was good physical therapy.

Nell shook her head. “You know you’re truly
loved when people are drawing straws for the chance to have you
hurl pottery at them. Aervyn won the last draw, and he’s all
excited to go visit her.”

Mike rubbed his head. “Tell him to duck faster
than I did.”

“Emotional swings will be a part of her recovery
process,” Sophie said. “Her brain is in remarkable shape, but it
still has some serious recovery to do. Expect her to have a little
more of a trigger temper than usual.”

“Now you tell us.” Elorie stood up and
stretched, still kind of creaky from napping in odd places. “On
that happy note, what else will she need?”

Sophie started to tick off on her fingers.
“Someone staying with her round the clock, since she can’t get out
of bed yet. Regular healing to help her nerves and tissues recover,
so she gains back some of her lost abilities. Soaks in that
marvelous pool of hers. A reason to get up in the morning and
function.”

Excellent. Lists she could work with. Elorie
started running through the possibilities. “A reason is easy. She
has a new healer to train. Lizzie’s clearly got at least some
talent in that direction.”

Sophie smiled slowly. “A trainee. That’s
absolutely perfect.”

“She can have two,” Nell said. “We couldn’t
figure it out in time to get healers to Moira without moving her,
but Jamie and Aervyn have worked out how to shuttle someone through
Realm to a different real-world location than where they started.
We can send Ginia to Moira. California’s very short of healers, so
getting her some training would be a wonderful thing.”

“That would be helpful,” Mike said. “She’s
actually got some good skills already, and perhaps Moira would
object less to monitoring from her own students.”

Elorie loved watching a plan come together.
“I’ll stay with her for now, and the witchlings can help during the
day.”

Marcus shook his head. “No. I’ll stay with her.
She’ll need lifting and carrying, and you shouldn’t be doing that
in your condition. I’ll move my things to her guest bedroom.”

Dead silence greeted his pronouncement.
Uncle
Marcus
was going to move in with Gran?

He looked around. “What? You think I can’t take
care of one cranky old witch?”

Nell snickered. “Well, you’ve had plenty of
experience with the cranky part.”

“I know how to throw the cup back at her,”
Marcus said dryly.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sophie said. She
winked at Elorie. “It will give Aunt Moira lots of incentive to get
better quickly.”

It would surely do that. Uncle Marcus as nurse.
Egads.

Elorie tried to remember the rest of Sophie’s
list and get her meeting back on track. “What about healing? We’ve
got several healers in Nova Scotia, but Gran was the only one in
our village. I can set up a rotation for people to come stay at the
inn for a while.”

“We can bring healers from farther away, too,”
Jamie said. “With the newly tweaked shuttle spell, Aervyn and I can
taxi anyone in through Realm.”

That would be amazingly handy, but it seemed
like a big load for a small boy. “Isn’t he tired from all the
people he moved around yesterday?”

Nell shook her head. “Nope. We fed him cookies.
He’ll be fine.”

Mike took Sophie’s hand. “Help will be welcome,
but Sophie and I can handle a lot of the healing.”

Elorie shook her head. They were newlyweds, and
just starting a new life together. Gran would have been the first
to object to intruding on that very special time.

Sophie held up a hand to stall her protests. “Is
that small cottage to the left of Aunt Moira’s still for sale?”

Elorie frowned. “You mean that awful shack?
Sophie, nobody could live there.” It had been for sale for ten
years.