A Different Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 5) (21 page)

“We hope you like it.”  Aervyn patted Beth’s hand gently.  “It’s kind of hard to try to be like everyone else all the time.  It’s okay to just be you sometimes.”  He squiggled in closer, hands touching his ears.  “Sometimes I turn my hearing aids off and I just sit and let the world be really, really quiet.”

Nell gaped.  She didn’t know that.  And her son had just shown his hearing aids to someone one step removed from a stranger.

He looked her way, eyebrows squished together. 
She’s not a stranger, Mama.  She’s like me—she’s different.

Beth put her hands over her own ears.  “I do it like this.  I imagine my world is all quiet.”  Her smile held yearning.  “I wish it really could be sometimes.”

“You could do it.”  Aervyn grinned and swallowed a huge mouthful of cookie.  “There’s a pretty easy spell if you wanna try it.  Just some tangly air and stuff.”  He popped up a spellshape on his hand.  “See, just like this.”

Three Sullivans leaned forward on an intercept course—and then sat back again, pushed away by something new in Beth’s mind.

Trust.

“Where do I start?”  Beth’s breath still hitched, but her eyes were intent on the glistening spellshape.

“Where do you wanna start?”  Aervyn snagged another bite of his cookie, unconcerned by either his sudden trainer status or his student’s rocky footing.

“At the beginning,” said Beth fervently.

“Okay.”  Aervyn pulled up dancing lines of power.  “You have ears that want quiet, so let them decide.  Which one of these wants to go first?”

Nell held her breath as Beth stared at the shimmering flows of light.  Watched as her son patiently changed their order, moving one over the next in some poetic Victorian dance.

And then Beth reached out, fingers sure.  “This one.”

It didn’t matter.  The spell could have started with any one of the lines dancing in Aervyn’s hands.

It matters to her, Mama.
  Almost-six-year-old wisdom spoke in Nell’s head. 
She likes stuff to have a beginning.

But spells don’t have a beginning, sweetie.
 Nell fought down the still-churning frustration. 
Witches have to be flexible.

Uh, huh.
 Aervyn reached over and nudged one of Beth’s spell lines—it was wobbling a bit. 
But maybe she can be the flexible one tomorrow.  Today, it can be our job.

Nell sat back, his innocent words hitting her hard. 
When did you get so smart?

Yesterday.
 Her son grinned and ported cookie crumbles to his mouth—his hands were busy helping Beth shape her spell. 
Auntie Nat says we hafta get smarter fast or Kenna’s gonna rule the universe.

Just what they needed.  A magical diva in diapers.

Auntie Nat also says that sometimes witches aren’t very good at understanding when someone doesn’t want to be just like us, so we need to try really hard. 
Aervyn eyed Beth’s cookie with suspicion. 
I sure hope I don’t have to eat that, though.

Nell sighed.  There were a whole bunch of lessons that had come out the door with that cookie.  Nat Sullivan knew how to deliver a message.

It was beyond time a certain stubborn fire witch listened. 

Aervyn moved his hands carefully away from his student’s spell.  Held his breath along with the rest of them as it shimmered in a shaky, but stable, spellshape.

And was the only one of them not entirely confused when she let it collapse.

Nell stared at Beth.  The shape had been stable enough to activate.  “Why didn’t you trigger the spell?” 

“I need to practice first.”  Beth’s voice was coated in wobbly joy.  “But I know how to make it now.”

What kind of witch didn’t want to do the actual magic part?

Her pint-sized teacher grinned happily.  “One day, it will be a really good spell.”

Beth’s smile was nearly as big as his.  “I’ll practice hard.”

He cuddled into her chest.  “I know.”

His hearing aids were showing.  Nell felt something inside her heart melt.  Her son, one of the most loved people in Witch Central, had just declared himself tribe leader of the different witches. 

Aided and abetted by Auntie Nat.

Pride nearly took her breath away. 

And she knew what had to come next—no matter how confused she still might be about their Chicago witch.  She glanced at both her brothers, making sure she spoke for all three of them.  Jamie and Dev just rolled their eyes in unison.

Yeah.  Not much danger from a witch who was afraid to let a spell loose. 

“You two work well together.”  Nell smiled at Beth and her pint-sized sidekick.  “That will be useful in the circle tomorrow.” 

Her son slipped his hand into Beth’s.  Tribe leader, indeed.

Chapter 15

Jamie looked up as his wife walked in from the back yard, radiant from her morning yoga workout and the dewdrops on her toes.  “You’re up early.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek.  “I wanted to get my yoga done before the girls show up.”

In Witch Central, that could mean a whole lot of different people.  “Which particular ones are invading today?”

She laughed, picking up the mug of tea he had waiting for her on the counter.  “The first wave is the triplets, I think.  Something Shay picked up from Lauren about Beth liking Christmas lights.”

Uh, oh.  “Let me guess—they’ve requisitioned your supply.”  Nat had enough lights to blanket half of southern California.

“Uhhmmm.”  She sipped her tea, eyes bright with simple morning happiness.  “They want to make her feel really comfortable for her first circle.”

And they had a monster affection for anything that glittered, twinkled, or shone.  “Shay, huh?” 

Nat only smiled.

Jamie could feel the pride layered underneath.  His wife loved each of their nieces wholeheartedly, but she had a special affinity for Shay’s quiet, thoughtful spirit.  He tugged her closer for a hug.  “The two of you are a lot of the reason Beth is still here, I think.”

“Kenna, too.”

And Aervyn.  And possibly Lizard.  “Okay, you and all the inhabitants of Witch Central under five feet tall.”

Her laugh lit dark corners in the kitchen.  “That’s awesome company to be in.”  She glanced over at the Christmas light storage boxes in the corner.  “You want half a bagel?  The girls are going to be here soon.”

He looked at the boxes.  And remembered a lumpy green cookie.  And read the face of the woman he loved beyond measure—and was finally beginning to understand.

This was important to his nieces.  It was even more important to his wife.  And she had talents that went well beyond making the back yard into an overload of twinkle.  “Why don’t you play your flute?”

It delighted him when her cheeks flushed pink.

He waited.  Just asking was enough of a dare.

“Okay.”  She sighed, a little sound that melted half his brain.  “I’ll do it, but it’s on your head if people are covering their ears.”

She was a far better flute player than she believed, but he knew it didn’t matter.  Playing let her be a real, tangible part of the circle—and for this witch, it was suddenly very obvious that Nat would suffer through far more than the occasional wrong note.

He wondered how he’d missed the formation of Beth’s army.

-o0o-

Nell walked into Jamie’s back yard, amused by her girls.  She grinned at Mia, who looked up first.  “What are you three up to?”

“We’re decorating.  Lauren gave us a hint.”

Tiny white lights shimmered in the grass, a magical fairy-lit morning.  Judging from the strands currently adorning Shay’s shoulders, they were heading up the oak tree next.  “What did you do, rob the Christmas tree in the town square?”

“Mama!”  Three voices protested in unison.

Ginia had the best glare.  “We would never do something like that unless it was a total emergency.  We borrowed Nat’s lights.”

The woman in question walked out the back door.  “Hey, Nell.  Have any snickerdoodles?”  She held up a plate.  “Apparently, this is our full supply.”

So she’d been told.  Accompanied by brotherly sulks and a grocery bag full of flour and butter.  “Yup—there are several dozen cooling on my counter.”

Small blonde heads grinned up at their beloved aunt. 

Nell shook her head.  Apparently a grand, cosmic plan was unfolding according to specifications.  “Anything else I can do to help?”

“Want Kenna duty during the circle?”  Nat looked hopeful.  “We tried to send her over to Caro’s house, but I swear, she can smell magic on its way.”

“More likely she smelled the snickerdoodles.”  Nell chuckled—her niece was a cookie fiend.  “I’ll be happy to keep track of her.  Are you playing your flute?”

“Trying.”  Nat didn’t share the general consensus that her baby flute-playing skills were more than adequate.

For a circle thrown together in less than twenty-four hours, this was going to be a fairly jazzy one.  “I hope Beth appreciates all the ambience.”  She had visions of one terrified fire witch running for the hills with streamers of Christmas lights trailing behind.

And three very disappointed girls.

“She’s braver than you think,” said Nat quietly.

Crap.  Nell sighed, well aware she deserved the gentle look in the mirror.  “I don’t shift gears very fast.  She didn’t love all my children at first sight, and apparently that’s still making me grumpy.”  Which was plain dumb, since the love affair was now well underway.

For today, she planned to ignore any other causes of unease stirring in her belly.

The empathy in Nat’s eyes was absolute.  “Fortunately, she adores Kenna, or you’d have had grumpy company.” 

Someday, Nell wanted to grow up to be her sister-in-law.  Wise, righteous, and kind, all at the same time.

Nat turned her head, listening to some invisible bat signal.  “Beth’s been spotted down the street.”

That suggested shenanigans.  “Is my son hovering in trees again?”

“I think so—the girls were trying to keep him busy.  It’s possible they used the same ruse to get my husband out of their hair.”

Well, Jamie kind of qualified as adult supervision.

The activity in the back yard morphed, decorating committee swiftly shifting into circle mode.  Ginia, huffing a little, moved past them carrying one of Jamie and Nat’s kitchen chairs and set it down inside the magical perimeter.  Nell raised an eyebrow at her sister-in-law—only one witch in the vicinity qualified for a comfy seat.  “Moira’s doing the circle?”  That hadn’t been the plan at 7 a.m.

“She volunteered.”

Nat didn’t have to say anything more—Irish volunteers weren’t the kind who took no for an answer.  “Who else is on water?”  They’d opted for two witches at each element.  More stable than one, but no need for trio linking.

“Devin.  He volunteered about two seconds after Moira did.”

Nell relaxed—that part
was
in the plan, and Dev had enough water power to carry the entire load ten times over.  He was also as protective of their elderly matriarch as any witch alive.

Shay dashed by and tossed a string of lights their way.  “Mama, can you put those up in the tree?  Please?  Make them pretty!”

She looked down at the lights, bemused.  It was a strange sensation to be on the receiving end of all the odd jobs that surrounded a circle.  Witches in the circle were usually busy with magical preparations, but apparently the same didn’t apply to those on mopping duty.

“Welcome to temporary status among those of us who aren’t the strongest witches in the land.”  Nat’s eyes twinkled.  “Want help with the lights?”

“No.”  Nell waved her off, chuckling.  One of the strongest witches in the land could manage to get the lights up in the tree all by herself.  “You’re probably needed on the welcoming committee.”  Put the friendliest faces up front—slightly grumpy witches were better off hanging out in the background.  Nell tossed another layer onto the global soundproofing spell as she climbed the tree.  The last thing they needed this morning were curious neighbors peeking over the fence.

She was still in the tree, trying to channel her daughters’ artful talents, when Beth came into view on the front sidewalk surrounded by a procession of attendants, small children, and at least two of the neighborhood cats.

Nell didn’t bother trying to get a mental read herself—she just pinged Lauren. 
How’s she doing?

Fine
, came the steady reply. 
And she’ll probably stay that way so long as you don’t fall out of the tree.

Haven’t done that since I was seven.  And that time was Jamie’s fault.
  Or maybe Devin—it was hard to keep her brothers’ nefarious escapades straight. 
Where’s that kiddo of mine?

Beaming in for a landing.  I think he aimed for the kitchen.

Doing his best impression of a cookie thief, most likely.  Nell started to climb out of the tree, and then thought the better of it.  She would have a good view of the power flows from way up here.  An excellent vantage point in case something went wrong, and Kenna loved hanging out in her big oak tree.