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

by Debora Geary

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.

  Chapter 8

  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.”

  “Okay…” Lauren considered, and then shrugged. “So, what do you think we should try?”

  The gears spinning in Ginia’s head were almost audible. “I think she should try it connected to the computer.”

  Dead silence, as everyone contemplated what was suddenly a blindingly obvious idea. Ginia got up and went to get her laptop and mouse.

  Elorie sighed. She was beginning to intensely dislike computer mice. Taking it in her hand, she braced for more failed efforts. “Now what?”

  Lauren looked shocked, but very pleased. “Your mind just went totally quiet.”

  Ginia grinned. “Awesome!”

  Elorie dropped the mouse in horror. So very far away from awesome. Maybe it was just a fluke.

  Lauren shook her head and spoke gently. “When you’re in contact with Net power, your mind is shielded. As soon as you let go of that mouse, I could hear your thoughts again.”

  Grabbing the mouse, Elorie fought down her panic. “I can’t have one of these with me everywhere I go.”

  “Maybe you can.” Ginia turned to Lauren. “Remember Uncle Jamie’s iPod gizmo? The one that gave you barriers? I bet we could tweak that to work for her. Kind of a Net shield.”

  “That’s brilliant.” Lauren nodded. “Why don’t you run over now and see if you can get him to help you? That’d be the easiest way to send Elorie home with a private head.”

  Ginia flew out of the room.

  “It’s just an iPod you can put in your pocket,” Lauren said, and came to sit by Elorie. “Trust me, I know it feels like betrayal when your own head doesn’t seem to work properly. It will get better.”

  It felt like standing in an ocean-side storm waiting for the next rogue wave to knock you over again. “I’m sorry. I’ve seen enough witches come into their powers—you’d think I’d know better than to believe it was easy.”

  Lauren wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You didn’t exactly get a smooth road, but I think it will be less bumpy once you’re home. Think of Jamie’s gizmo as your shiny red Dorothy shoes—it will let you go home, and that’s all that really matters.”

  Elorie had awful visions of being hooked up to electronics for the rest of her life. So many people would think that was totally awesome. Unfortunately, she just wasn’t one of them.

  She didn’t live entirely in the Dark Ages. Laptops were tools, and she used hers competently. But having one with her always? It was like some new and awful form of witch captivity.

  Elorie Shaw, prisoner. Just lovely.

  ~ ~ ~

  Nell collapsed on the couch and waved a hand in Jamie’s direction. “Can you port me some root beer and a banana, or something? It’s been a long day.”

  Her brother rolled his eyes and complied. The bananas arrived as a clump of six, and the root beer was warm, but she wasn’t going to complain. Some days, being chief organizer and bottle washer at Witch Central was a big job, especially when you were trying to get everything ready for imminent departure.

  Jamie helped himself to one of the spare bananas. “So, when are you leaving again?”

  “Two days. Elorie goes to the airport tomorrow morning, and we leave Wednesday morning.”

  “It’s going to be strange for the girls to be separated.”

  Nell nodded. She’d given that particular issue some serious thought. “I think it will be better for them, though. Ginia’s going to be pretty busy with witchy t
hings in Nova Scotia. I don’t want Mia and Shay to feel left out, and they’re really excited to stay with you and Nat and work on coding the Realm surprise for summer solstice. That was a pretty clever idea, brother mine.”

  Jamie shrugged. “If I handle this right, I’ll do very little work and get all the glory. We should have tried this child-labor thing sooner.”

  Nell threw a mental banana at him. She didn’t have enough energy to throw a real one. “Nat’s really okay with the invasion? I know she’s tired from all the morning sickness right now.”

  “You really think two girls ready to fulfill her every wish are going to be a burden?”

  He had a point. All her triplets thought Auntie Nat should sit with her feet up and eat bonbons until the baby arrived. She had no idea where they’d picked up such a silly idea, but it was cute, and probably not too terrible for Nat.

  “Relax,” Jamie said. “Nathan’s at summer camp, your girls are farmed out into servitude, and we promise to feed Daniel occasionally. You’ll have the two most likely troublemakers with you.”

  Another good point. “Hopefully Moira will spoil them silly, and they won’t have any time to find trouble.”

  He snorted. “Good luck with that. I seem to remember a few witchlings native to that coast who will welcome new blood with open arms.”

  Nell remembered some of the antics of summers past and opened one eye. “Maybe they’ve matured.”

  “Twin ten-year-old boys? Yeah, that’s likely.”

  “I’ll keep them busy. I’m supposed to be teaching them how to spellcode. Marcus refuses to give any more coding lessons after his less-than-enjoyable afternoon with Moira.”

  “Marcus is an old grump. He has a soft spot for Ginia, though.”

  Nell grinned. “That’s because she’s about to wipe the floor with him in Realm. Have you been watching?”

  “Yeah. Those cloaking spells the other day were seriously good. She’s up to something else now, though—she made a new sidekick avatar.”

  That got her attention. “She’s partnered up?” You didn’t let a nine-year-old gamer online without keeping very close tabs on who she was playing with. The witch-only levels of Realm were a pretty small community, but still.