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

by Geary, Debora

  Show-off. Lauren’s mental voice was dry as the Sahara. Somebody ate too many cookies for breakfast.

  The wings died down to a well-mannered stream, and the insane magic flying through Beth’s veins throttled back to something that merely hummed. She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks and wondered how to thank the small boy who had just shown her, for a brief moment, what it was like to sing opera.

  You just did. Lauren’s smile came down the mental channel. He hears you at least as well as I do. You okay—can we keep going?

  “Okay” wasn’t a word she might ever use again. But she was fine.

  She waited for Aervyn to link to Jamie’s air—and then realized it had already happened. Apparently some people were more used to birds of fire.

  The Sullivans are all well used to circle misbehavior.

  Beth was beginning to love Lauren’s sane, funny care for the circle.

  Happy to serve. They’ll call to water now—and then you’ll link with Moira. Take good care of her. She’s the weakest witch in this circle.

  Lilting Irish tones began the call to water, flowing together with those of Lauren’s husband.

  Beth listened, enchanted—she’d never heard water dance before. Back in Chicago, Margaret was a more solemn kind of water witch.

  She sensed Moira’s light flow reaching out for hers. And stretched her own power out carefully, heeding the call to caution. She smiled as the flows snapped competently together—Lauren had no idea what “weak” was.

  Devin reached out to his niece for the final link of the circle and four strong, balanced flows of power united, a glowing river of shimmering light tied to sixteen hands and eight hearts.

  Beth leaned into the power of a full and healthy circle for the first time in her life.

  And exalted.

  This is what she had come for.

  Chapter 16

  Nell watched the shimmering light bathing the circle below her and heaved a sigh of relief.

  It had worked.

  And even if her contribution was limited to tree-limb babysitting, the delighted awe painted all over Beth’s face was a very welcome sight.

  A tiny fraying in the light near Moira caught her attention. Nell reached out with a mopping spell just in time to get sprayed with water by her favorite troublemaker of a brother. She tapped into his head. Punk.

  His response was fast and amused. What, you think I can’t take care of a little water leak?

  Devin had never had a problem with humility. But he’d also made very sure Moira wouldn’t know her magic had wavered.

  Beth was holding nicely—and she’d done very well with Aervyn’s impromptu display of pyrotechnics. Thank goodness. He would have been horrified if it had scared her, but he could only hold his five-year-old self to good manners for so long.

  Kenna wiggled in her lap. Nell grinned. “Hard for a one-year-old, too, isn’t it? They’ll be done soon, sweetheart.”

  The tiny, fiery girl waved her hands insistently—and then power lit up around them like a Christmas tree.

  The unease in Nell’s gut went supernova.

  Nell. Lauren’s mental voice was sharp and insistent.

  Dammit. On it. Adrenaline surging, Nell threw up a barrier around Kenna, and then realized, several seconds too late, what the baby had done.

  The shimmering river of light had been irresistible to the tiny spellcaster. She’d pulled the lines of power up into the tree and was busy shaping them into something intricate, pretty, and completely unrehearsed.

  With eight people attached to her plaything.

  Oh, hell. Nell jumped in to link with one mind at each element. Jamie. Dev. Aervyn. Ginia. Her blood and Kenna’s, and the witches who would need to be on the front lines if this blew. Anyone know what she’s making? Halting a spell in progress was dangerous business—halting an unknown one was insanity.

  It looks a little bit like my magical ball, Mama. Aervyn sounded less than certain. But she’s doing something else, too.

  There’s an awful lot of air power in whatever it is. Jamie mentally squinted. It’s pretty hard to see from down here, though.

  Nell traced the lines of power as fast as she could, trying to reverse engineer her niece’s creation in the making. Whatever it was, she appeared to be making two of them. Sort of. Damn, she was fast.

  And then Kenna scrunched up the loose end of a power flow, cooed happily, and tossed it into the crowd below. Straight at Beth Landler, the most fragile witch in Berkeley.

  Nell hurled a containment spell at the tossed line, intent on grabbing it—and yanked her magic back just in time. She wasn’t part of the circle. Busting in that hard would cause serious backlash.

  It’s okay. Jamie sounded thoroughly impressed. She caught it.

  And she had. Beth held the end of the tossed line of power with both hands, easily the most astonished witch in Berkeley—but a reasonably steady one.

  Then a lot of parts started moving all at once. And Nell’s gut wasn’t the only one churning.

  Kenna was spellcasting for real now. The baby babble was gone, replaced by intense concentration—and Beth was firmly tied into whatever she was doing.

  Crap. Jamie was up in the tree beside them now, staying at a respectful distance from his daughter’s handiwork.

  Any ideas? Nell was still trying to catch up with her niece’s flying fingers.

  We need her out of the tree. She’s warping the circle badly from up here.

  As was Jamie. Which the experienced witches down below were handling fine so far. But if Kenna’s spell exploded… Moving her is dangerous, too. Spellcasters didn’t like to be disturbed—and neither did opinionated babies.

  Port her to Nat’s lap. Lauren’s voice was cool silk. See her, Jamie?

  Nell looked down. Nat was sitting calmly in the center of the circle. How the hell did she get in there? The magic blast crossing the perimeter should have knocked her out cold.

  Aervyn ported her in. Lauren continued to sound like she was reading a grocery list. He’s shunting the magic for her.

  A genius move—and an extremely tricky one. You doing okay there, sweet boy? Nell mindspoke softly, not wanting to shake his concentration.

  Sure, Mama. He sounded entirely cool. And Beth’s doing really, really good.

  That might not last, sent Jamie on a very tight channel. Let’s get Kenna down. I’ll move my girl, you hold her spell steady.

  Nell met his eyes and nodded. One, two, three.

  They landed, Kenna in her mama’s lap, Jamie back in his spot in the circle. And Nell standing on the outside, looking in. Useless.

  You need to help Beth. Lauren’s voice was more insistent now. I’ll hold a mindlink open for you, but she’s in way over her head.

  Gods. She doesn’t exactly want my help.

  Open your eyes, Nell—she’s not weak. She’s holding just fine for Kenna, but she’s never seen magic like this. And you’re the best damn spellcaster we’ve got.

  She was definitely the best one not already in the circle. Nell positioned herself directly behind Beth, chastened and a little frantic.

  Help Beth hold steady. Lauren’s voice had gentled. Nat and I are going to see if we can talk Kenna into putting down her pretty little spell.

  No. Nell had been watching her niece’s hands the whole time. Certainty solidified the ground under her feet. I think it’s too late for that. Spells were a lot harder to undo than they were to finish—and whatever this one was, it was getting close to done. Link me in to Beth.

  Already done. Jamie’s teasing Kenna’s spell a little to buy you some time.

  Nell tiptoed in very gingerly. Beth? Can you hear me? I’d like to help you. I can hear anything you want me to hear—Lauren is helping with that.

  Okay.

  One terse word—but it was the right one. Kenna’s building a spell, and she’s got you holding on to part of it.

  I can see that. What is she building?

  We don’t know. N
ell had some of the pieces teased out—a magic ball, and some extra layers—but that was information a nervy witch didn’t need. And they were out of time. Kenna was only going to be distracted by her daddy for so long. You’re doing really well. We almost have it figured out, and then I’ll step in.

  It’s different than before. Beth’s mind voice had the dimmed quality of someone deep in thought. Kind of inside out.

  You’re really smart, Beth! Aervyn sounded way impressed.

  What? Nell stopped trying to trace the manic figure eights Kenna was shaping and tossed up a pretty fire loop instead. Keep the baby spellcaster distracted.

  Beth’s mind was clearer now. More certain. It’s like she’s weaving a magic ball from the inside out, instead of the outside in.

  Nell stared and tried to invert three dimensions of flow in her mind. With total lack of success. I don’t see it.

  Me neither. Jamie had joined the party—Lauren must be feeling like a mad telephone operator.

  People with Asperger’s are often very good at spatial relations. Beth’s voice was eerily calm. She’s got something else happening that I don’t understand, though. Coming in from the left and splitting twice, and then over to the flow I’m holding.

  The best spellcaster of her generation tried to flip the spell in her head again, and cursed. Geometry from hell.

  Here, Mama. Aervyn pushed her an image. Kind of like this, I think. What’s the branching part?

  That’s not quite right. Beth paused for a moment, something murky coming down her mental channels. I can’t figure out how to push it out—can anyone see the picture in my head?

  The image snapped into crystal focus, no doubt aided by every mind witch in Jamie’s yard.

  Nell could see it now. Every damn inch of the neatly inverted spell, including the figure eight branching through the middle. The one with two perfect layers—and a mangled third.

  A spell Aervyn hadn’t been able to do until his fourth birthday, and Kenna was a hairsbreadth away from pulling it off.

  Unfortunately, in spellcasting, hairsbreadths mattered.

  She’s got a broken layer. And now they had an emergency. Jamie, you shield Nat. Aervyn, sweetie, you and Devin shield everyone else. Her brother would know that as code for keeping her son safe when she broke the circle’s connection. Beth, you need to trust me now. I’m going to step into your connection with Kenna. Can you split it in two so I can take a piece? We need to get that spell repaired before she sets it off.

  I can help. I see where it’s broken.

  That was crazy talk. You can’t shape a simple fire globe.

  You made that perfectly clear. Pure frost crackled down their mind connection. But I can do this. It’s a simple join.

  Fury hit Nell’s airwaves. We don’t have much time. I need you to split that connection. There was no time for newbie-witch heroics. And split or not, she was going in.

  Nell. Her brother’s mind voice was honed steel. She does see it—better than any of us. And it’s dangerous for you to step in. Help her make the join.

  Insanity. She whirled on Jamie, circle-busting spell already forming in her fingers. And ran smack into the wall of his mental conviction.

  I need help. Beth’s mind presence shoved down the middle of the standoff. Kenna—how do I keep her safe?

  For a split second, nobody moved. Not an atom of air, not a molecule of magic.

  And then Jamie exhaled. You listen to Nell. He projected comfort and confidence with every syllable. She’s the best there is.

  Okay. A deep breath, and then Beth’s focus was back on the dancing lines connecting her to the toddler in Nat’s lap. Nell, help me please.

  Nell felt her insides shuddering. She’d talked Aervyn down from magical cliffs all his life. And she was quaking in her boots.

  They’re green flip-flops. You hate boots. Jamie’s voice carried humor—and a good swift kick. Beth, that line of power in your hands? Just start pulling yourself along it. Nice and gently, hand over hand. See where it intersects with the green flow up ahead? Hang a right.

  His message to his sister was much more terse. Are you doing this, or am I?

  Beth was already on the move, her magical shifting careful and precise. Are you sure? Left at the blue sparkly one might be faster.

  No. Nell stepped in. Jamie was a good caster—she was better. Blue is water, and you’re holding fire. Stick to the earth and air flows if you can. You’ll move faster.

  Fire has a temper. Beth almost smiled—and executed a neat right turn at the green. Left and up?

  Kenna’s watching. Lauren’s alert was quiet and unalarmed. She’s stopped working.

  They could all see it. The flows sitting, waiting. Good. Fascinated babies didn’t set off broken spells. Nell traced backward from the missing join. Try down and right at the narrow orange flow ahead.

  Then right at green, right and down twice on yellow, U-turn at purple. Beth was moving faster now, her mind increasingly sure.

  Nell traced. Damn. Correct on all four. Yes. Slow down on the last one—we don’t want Kenna yanking on anything from her end.

  I’ve never seen the lines like this. It’s so big. Awe leaked through Beth’s mental voice.

  There was no time for awe. She’s a powerful little munchkin, but she’s got a whole circle feeding her. They’re feeding you, too. Trust the circle.

  Beth rounded the last turn.

  Nell zoned in on the center of the spell. Time for action. Can you see both ends?

  Yes. Beth was back to her robot voice.

  Okay. You’re going to reach carefully for the one closest to you. Nell gritted her teeth and tried not to doubt. “Reaching” was the only part of this that relied on Beth’s personal magic.

  Won’t that be unbalanced? Beth was still, surveying the flows. I can make a little joining piece, like this.

  Nell gaped at the small, well-behaved linking spell sitting on Beth’s palm. It was a little nontraditional, but it looked plenty effective. Where did you learn that?

  It’s how I join my circle together. We don’t have an air witch. Beth tugged on the spell slightly, and it unrolled flat. I’ve never actually been able to see it before, though. Will it work?

  Shock was rippling through the circle. Nell didn’t have time for that, either. Yeah, I think so. What are the bits on the ends?

  I think of them as magical magnets. Beth sounded apologetic. It’s hard to get my circle connected otherwise—our power is a little uneven. I can maybe take them off.

  Hell, no. They were genius. It’ll work just fine. Slide it in, nice and gentle.

  Nell didn’t send her last words down the mental channel—she just readied her own magic and prayed them. And hang on for the ride.

  -o0o-

  It was like throwing herself into a vortex. Beth clipped in the loose ends of Kenna’s spell and felt a crazy, sucking maw pulling at her.

  Terror clawed at her throat. So much worse than the fetching spell.

  Discipline fought hand-to-hand with the terror. It was a circle. And a tiny girl with fuzzy red hair. She would not panic.

  She. Would. Not.

  With every inch of fortitude and skill she possessed, Beth fought to stay sane.

  And then the sucking stopped and her world was filled with an explosion of joy and light, an infinity of glittery pinpoint twinkles, each singing an impossible note. Every color of the rainbow, dancing in a deep-dark sky to the music of the spheres.

  The universe—in the shape of a butterfly.

  And then it all vanished.

  Spell, lights, magic, everything.

  She didn’t feel her legs crumple or the grass come up to meet her head.

  She only knew that it was over.

  -o0o-

  Witch chaos.

  Lauren pushed through the crowd surrounding Beth. “Don’t touch her.”

  Ginia looked up. “I have to check her channels.”

  It wasn’t her channels that were the proble
m. “It’s her autism we overloaded, not her magic. Back up please, everyone. She needs space.” She’d spent the whole circle listening to the drumbeat of different in Beth’s head. Now it was time to bring her solace.

  Most people took a step or two back. Three very stubborn small faces refused to move. Ginia held out her hands, a healer readying her scan. Aervyn and Shay simply sat down by Beth’s head and dared the world to move them.

  Lauren knew a tough negotiation when she met one. She started with the easiest of the three, gently touching Ginia’s hands. “You can scan her in a minute, okay? I bet Kenna could use her channels cleared, and if you don’t do it, Moira probably will.”

  Ginia nodded and flew off, and Lauren turned to her next rebel. “I need a mind bubble, sweetie. A great big one. Can you go help Uncle Jamie do that? We need Beth’s mind to be nice and quiet for a while.”

  It made her heart ache to watch him square his shoulders under the responsibility. He was still so little.

  But Beth needed some space from magic, and Aervyn’s flows were still zinging. Everyone’s were. Nell. Dev. Get the power in this back yard grounded ASAP, please.

  You’re so sexy when you’re bossy.

  Her husband’s amused reply had Lauren grinning even as she moved to reinforce Beth’s shields. Most of the pieces were in play. She only needed one more person. Nat?

  “Already here,” said a quiet voice, sitting down at Shay’s side.

  Those two were exactly who Beth needed right now. No magic and huge, gentle hearts. Lauren looked up from her patient. “Kenna okay?”

  “Yeah.” Nat looked down, deep empathy in her eyes. “But she’s not, is she?”

  Not yet—but she would be. “She’s strong. I’m just barriering her for a while until things quiet down out here.”

  Shay laid a quiet hand on Beth’s forehead. “She’s really brave. How come nobody understands that?”

  Lauren felt the wincing as nearby mind witches picked up on the thoughts pouring out of a small, blonde lion cub. Shamed by the words of a ten-year-old girl. “They will, sweetheart. She’s just brave in ways that are different from what we’re used to.”