A Dangerous Witch (Witch Central Series: Book 3) (18 page)

A careless shrug and a grin.  “Witch Central never runs out of food.”

Two more small explosions happened on different parts of the field.  Purple smoke in one corner, sparkly orange in the other.

Lauren grinned as both her companions headed toward the action, and then looked around.  She had a different job to do today.  Right after she handed her poor, mangled spellshape off to someone with a bucket.

-o0o-

It was like tying shoes—seventeen pairs all at once.  Except this wasn’t kindergarten, and shoelaces didn’t explode.  Maybe she should have stayed on Mia duty—that had been a lot calmer.  It had, however, been cramping her daughter’s style.  Nell reached over and pulled a grounding line off a confused gamer’s spellshape.  “Ground it
after
you have the center loop flowing or you’ll short circuit the spell.”

The teenager frowned.  “Are you sure?  That doesn’t look like the model we saw.”

The bright-eyed girl at his elbow grinned and copied what Nell had done.  “This is probably the woman who made the model, doofus.”

Startled eyes looked up.  “Oh, my God.  You’re Nell Walker.”

In the flesh.  Nell tapped his spellshape.  “Fix your primary loops and then that should work.”  Probably.  Assuming he managed the incantation right.  Judging from the plumes of smoke rising all over the field, that wasn’t a given.  She shook her head.  Three simple words—how could they possibly mess that part up?

Heat flashed near her fingers.  The bright-eyed girl, now holding a neat, compact fireball.

Nell grinned.  Maybe there was hope.  She nodded in approval.  “That was fast.”  And smart—the first non-witches to successfully make a fireball were getting mongo bonus game points.  Size wasn’t everything.

The hapless guy rolled his eyes.  “Great.  Now you’ll rule the world forever.”  He looked at Nell, pride leaking out from behind the teenage-gamer mask.  “She’s
AshesToPhoenix
.  Top player in the regular levels.”

Top player as of three days ago—they’d all watched her carefully plotted, dramatic attack on the volcano dragon’s lair.  Nell raised an eyebrow.  “That was a really impressive storm you built.”  Especially since it had been entirely intended as a distraction from the main event.  Jamie was still working out exactly how she’d made off with the Jewel of Orn.

A diffident shrug from the girl holding the fireball.  And something more.

Nell had been a hot young gamer once.  She kept her voice casual.  “You like to code?”

Sharp interest, still buried behind a face of indifference.  “Yeah.”

Which the teenage boy beside her thought was totally sexy.  Nell hid a grin.  He might be useless as a temporary witch, but he had redeeming qualities.  She focused back on
AshesToPhoenix
.  “You ever thought about working on the game-design side of things?”

Sharp pleasure.  And doubt.  “You hire girls?”

Nell tried not to let the steam blow out her ears.  This was freaking 2014.  “We hire great coders who can think.”  And anyone who could get around six of Jamie’s best warding spells to grab the Jewel of Orn was both of those.

The grin was instant and blazing.  “When can I start?”

“Now.”  Nell laughed as several more explosions erupted.  One deputy, coming right up.  “Go teach some of these people how to ground their fireballs before we all die of smoke inhalation.”

Their newest employee dashed off, errant knight sidekick hot on her heels.

Nell shook her head—and reached out a hand as yet another nearby spell readied to explode.  Two loops and a ground.  There shouldn’t be five hundred ways to screw that up.

She was pretty sure this crew was going to find them all by sundown.

-o0o-

Ah, the pleasures of old age.

Moira wandered the field full of excited faces playing with lines of power.  Glittery flows and lime-green ones, and here and there, ones that had been decked out in flowers or shooting stars or molten steel.

Mia and her sisters would be in their element, exactly as intended.

For the moment, however, it wasn’t the power flows that held Moira’s attention.  It was the eyes of the gamers manipulating them.

For most of the people here on this day, this was the very closest they would ever come to wielding real magic.  And the astonished, delighted awe in their eyes did an old witch’s heart good.  Magic would always have a place in the world as long as those hints of reverence continued to exist.

A teenage boy wearing ear buds and a very realistic suit of armor gave out a cheer as his spell turned into a ball of fire.  “Yeah!”

Moira laughed as a dozen people rushed to his side, hoping to figure out success by osmosis.  And then she smiled, proud, as a little librarian waded into their midst.  Kevin wasn’t one of their stronger fire witches, but he was dedicated, and very patient with beginners. 

Today he had a whole field of them to help.

He smiled her direction. 
There are lots of people helping.

She waited until Kevin gently adjusted a figure-eight loop that looked more like Lizzie’s shoelaces. 
Do you know where Mia is, dear?

His mental snort danced in her head. 
Follow the smoke that glitters.

She didn’t bother to suggest he take a good look at exactly how much of the smoke hanging over the field glittered.  Gamers liked shiny things.  Magpies, all of them.  Moira sent a final fond thought Kevin’s direction.  C
ome play your fiddle for me later.  I’ve a mind to hear some good Irish tunes.

’Kay.
 He was fixing spells two-handed now. 
Cassie taught me a new one.

Cassie was teaching half the village, although few shared Kevin’s talent.  Music bloomed all over Fisher’s Cove these days. 

Moira walked away, gently smoothing bumps in errant spell loops as she went.  Here, the knowledge of seventy years still served, even if she couldn’t so much as sneeze at a spell in real life any more.

Lauren laughed on the communal mindchannel.  Moira took that to mean that Mia was still well supervised and happy and enjoying her party.  An old witch would do what she could to contribute to the festivities.  The Irish had always known how to throw a good party at their biggest fears.

A young woman with riotous hair held out her palms, a crumpled spell sitting forlornly in the middle.  “Any idea what’s wrong with this one?”

The list of things right with it would be far shorter.  But Moira saw something in the eyes and in the trembling hands that made her pause.  More than a hint of reverence lived here.  Gently, she reached out and touched the mangled spell.  “It looks as if you’ve been trying very hard.”

“Yeah.”  A voice bearing both wistfulness and self-deprecation.  “But since I can’t even make mine produce a decent explosion, I assume I’m nowhere close.”

Magic wasn’t always that linear.  Moira smiled into quick hazel eyes.  “Not everyone builds a spell the same way, my dear.  Perhaps you’re meant to do it differently.”

Interest quickened, and curiosity.  “Do I know you?”

Moira wasn’t wearing one of her avatars today.  Just a light summer cloak and her elderly Irish self.  “I’m Moira Doonan.  Very pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Dani.  Pretty good coder, damn good gamer, and apparently, pathetic witch.”

Perhaps not.  An Irish granny’s instincts were humming now.  She held out a gentle hand, palm up, in invitation.  “Might I scan you for power, sweet girl?”

Dani chuckled.  “Isn’t my spell plenty of proof?”

In many witching circles, it would be.  “Humor an old witch.”

A quick tap of code, and Dani’s spellshape roadkill was gone.  “Okay.  What do I need to do?”

Moira answered on pure instinct.  “Close your eyes.  And believe.”

The hazel eyes closed—but not before they flickered with something akin to hope.

Moira touched her palms gently to the gamer’s young, strong ones.  And felt the answer leap into her own channels.  Power lived here.  Lots of it.  Water, surely, and perhaps a little air, if she wasn’t mistaken.  No wonder the girl couldn’t make a fireball—her water power was entirely displeased with such an idea.

She opened her eyes, seeking the nearest mind witch.  And laughed as Jamie popped up at her shoulder.

Lauren’s monitoring. 
Jamie eyed Dani with interest. 
She caught your scan.
 
Found a real one, did you?

A storm witch, I think. 
Moira smiled at him fondly. 
With perhaps the worst grasp of spellshapes I’ve ever seen. 
She reached out and touched Dani’s cheek.  “Magic lives in you, my dear.  This is Jamie.  He’ll be able to teach you.”

Hazel eyes blew wide in astonishment, and then creeping joy.

Huh. 
Jamie’s mind was buzzing with interest now, his hands already building the little trickle that was a water witch’s first spell. 
I’ll see if I can find Sierra.  Or Devin.  Gonna be a fun afternoon.

Moira smiled as Dani’s hands began to move, copying Jamie’s movements.
 

Witch Central had needed this—every happy, hopeful second of it.

-o0o-

Moe swirled, restless.  This place they called Realm was uncomfortable—very clear to the orb’s inner eye, but strangely outside the flows of time.

A world real, and yet not.

The celebration on the field bore some resemblance to festivities of old.  The kind that began with reverence and ended with raucous flirtation with death and new life.  So much of humanity was the result of such impetuousness.

The girl who held the fire of a thousand suns was happy today.  She felt safe in this world of real and unreal as she played with magic covered in the strange shimmer that coated all things in this place called Realm.

The one who listened called it the Internet.

That was a weak word for realities in another plane, a different intersection of time.  Humans meddling.  Creating.  Believing it to be a game.

The rainbow fire the girl created might not be visible in the real world of time and space.  But the knowledge she gained—that would live in her forever.

The forces awaited such learning.

And that made a cranky old orb who had grown far too fond of these particular humans very uneasy.

-o0o-

She should have eaten more waffles.

Lauren stood on a grassy knoll someone had conveniently programmed for her viewing pleasure, watching the milling masses on the field.  She felt like the world’s most disorganized traffic cop as she tracked a tangled mess of mind channels. 

The biggest and most important one kept a sharp eye on Mia and her keepers.  Everyone was having fun today, but they were doing it in shifts.

Right now, that channel was dead quiet other than amused updates, which was exactly what they all wanted.

She sorted through the rest of the mental chatter.  There were a half-dozen witches out on the field doing scans and sending back notifications.  Several emergency crews getting paged at frequent intervals to deal with spell misfires—or some of the more spectacular unplanned successes.  The rising background noise of several hundred excited gamers who were beginning to realize not everything happening on the meadow today was coded.

And enough purple, glittery smoke residue to make the place feel like a Grateful Dead concert.

Working on that.
 Jamie sounded busy—and as high as any of the gamers currently milling on the field. 
One smoke-scrubbing routine, coming up.

Lauren tuned in momentarily to another stream of mind chatter. 
You might want to find Sierra first.  Something about a brewing tornado.

She laughed as he cursed and ported halfway across the field.

And then started using her high hill to find Daniel.  He could handle a smoke-scrubbing routine with one hand.  And maybe she could convince him to use the other one to do something about the waffle shortage.

-o0o-

Four now.  Good grief.  Nell made her way through the crowd, keeping one mental ear tuned to Lauren and Aervyn’s running commentary.  They were monitoring the people out doing power scans—and the people watching Mia.

So far, Mia was the least of their troubles.

Scanners had found four gamers who were just getting the news that their magic existed outside of Realm.  They’d all taken it very well—just a new kind of leveling up.  Earning permanent entry into Realm’s witch-only levels didn’t hurt either.

Which was probably why a hundred more stood in line to be scanned.

It’s to be expected.
 Moira, who had found two of the new recruits, was still walking the field, an old Irish witch doing what she did best.  Welcoming. 
The magic you create here would call to them.

Nell surveyed the crowd, trying to find the three most responsible for today’s cheerful chaos, and rapidly concluded that her eyes weren’t going to get the job done.  She pinged Lauren instead.
Seen Mia lately?

To your left,
came the reply. 
Show-off fire child at a hundred paces.

Uh, oh.  Nell rolled her eyes. 
What’s she up to?

No idea.  Ask a witch who has any idea what sparkles and shiny lines of power do.

Lauren’s dry reply had Nell quickening her feet.  Her sister-in-law had a more than passing familiarity with spellshapes.  If she didn’t know what Mia was up to, somebody wasn’t making simple fireballs anymore.

It’s not just Mia.  Her sisters are helping.  Something about it being worth enough game points to turn all of Realm sparkly forever.

Double uh, oh.

It’s really cool, Mama.
 Aervyn now, sounding impressed. 
Here, I can port you.

Nell felt the swoop, and the still-weird sensation of having her feet land before the rest of her body took shape.  And then forgot all of that as she looked at the glowing, tumbling, very sparkly creation floating a foot above the grass, draped over three girls who looked very proud of themselves.