by Debora Geary
Nat touched her arm gently. “It’s not for me. Try it on, Lauren.”
“Do you believe in this crystal stuff?”
Nat sighed. “I think it’s probably an easier leap for me, yes. I use candles and music and yoga sequences as tools to clear my mind and focus. It’s not a big stretch to imagine that crystals and lotions might be useful tools as well.” She held out the pendant again.
You’d never guess Nat could be so stubborn by looking at her, thought Lauren. Jamie might have a few surprises coming to him, precog or not. She took the pendant and slipped it over her neck.
“Nothing, I don’t feel anything.”
“That’s probably good. Oh, wait a minute.” Nat reached into her pocket, took out an iPod, and touched the screen a couple of times. “How about now?”
“What is that thing? Wait. I can hear your thoughts now, and no, I don’t plan on packing any lighter. Why couldn’t I hear you before? You woke me up, so I didn’t have time to put up any walls.”
Nat gave Lauren the iPod. “It’s Jamie’s gizmo. He programmed it to… well, I don’t understand it all, but it’s a bit like a force field. I had it up around me when I got here so my mind would stay contained. Jamie says you can use it when we fly. That way, nothing should get through to you. He figured the airport would probably make you nuts otherwise, so he was up half the night programming this.”
“Oh, really.” Lauren looked up from the Star Trek gizmo. “And how do you know this?”
Nat shook her head and laughed. “Not how you think. He came over early this morning so I could be his beta tester and see if this device was working.”
Lauren studied the gizmo and fingered the pendant around her neck. These were the tools of a modern witch?
…
Nell: Morning, ladies.
Sophie: Have you heard from Jamie?
Nell: Yes, last night late. We didn’t want to wake you, so I told him I’d chat with you both this morning. He’s bringing Lauren here to California. They should be leaving Chicago shortly.
Moira: Oh, and that’s good news. She’s agreed to some training, then?
Nell: I think he insisted. Moira, he had something he wanted me to ask you about. Lauren went to work yesterday, after they’d drilled brick wall barriers. He said she was solid on those, and he magically reinforced them.
Moira: A sensible approach.
Nell: Apparently she decided they were too much of a block—interfering with her job—so she adjusted them some.
Moira: That’s quite the accomplishment for a witch with so little training.
Nell: Unfortunately, she didn’t go small. He said she kicked a hole in her brick wall while she was with some clients.
Sophie: Uh, oh. Did she overload again? I sent some things to help with that, but they wouldn’t have arrived until today.
Nell: No, and that’s the part that scared Jamie. She was with a couple that are buying a house and having a baby.
Moira: It’s a good reason to buy a house, having a little one on the way.
Nell: This is the part he wanted me to ask you about. Lauren picked up thoughts from the husband and wife, but she also picked up mind impressions from the baby. They just found out about the pregnancy, so this baby is just a little bean. Lauren felt enough that she had trouble pulling out.
Moira: Oh, dear. Nell, that could be very dangerous.
Nell: That was Jamie’s reaction, so I don’t think he gave her a lot of choice about getting on a plane this morning.
Moira: While I’m normally in favor of free choice, I think in this case a wee bit of pressure was warranted. She must be extremely sensitive to connect with a mind that young and undeveloped, especially if she wasn’t making any efforts to do so. Tell Jennie to test her as a channeler as well—if she has any channeling talent, that would have augmented her mind power. Jamie is right to be very concerned. She needs training, and she needs it immediately.
Nell: He’ll be glad to hear that you think that.
Moira: He can be impetuous, our Jamie, but he’s a smart witch. He’s done the right thing.
Sophie: If she’s so sensitive, how will she get to California? She’ll be on a plane with a crowd of other people for several hours. I sent her a lapis pendant, and some emerald and white moonstone, and those will help, but…
Moira: Those are wonderful choices, Sophie. Did you activate the lapis so it can choose her?
Sophie: I did, Aunt Moira. I’m a well-trained witch :-).
Nell: Jamie has something up his sleeve, too. We’ve been working on a handheld version of Enchanter’s Realm, and he tweaked a bit of our code to create some electronic barriers for Lauren.
Sophie: Her own personal force field? That’s so Star Trek.
Nell: That’s what I said. It’s highly experimental. He just set it up last night, but hopefully it will get the job done.
Moira: Witch force fields. I’m not sure I can wrap my brain around that, Nell.
Nell: Well, if it doesn’t work, he’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way and hold her barriers up himself.
Sophie: That sounds exhausting. Can he do that for four or five hours?
Nell: Let’s hope we don’t find out. I’ll take Aervyn to the airport with me to pick up the three of them. He has enough training to help stabilize her barriers if need be, so we have her covered at this end. Aunt Jennie’s down visiting her new grandbabies in San Diego, but she’s coming back tonight.
Sophie: Three?
Nell: Yes, Lucia had triplets. They’re adorable.
Sophie: Congratulations, that’s truly wonderful. But I meant the three you said are flying in—Lauren, Jamie, and who?
Nell: Nat’s coming as well.
Moira: Who would that be, dear?
Nell: Sorry, I forgot you and Sophie left before I cornered Jamie last time. Nat is a good friend of Lauren’s. Apparently she was the star attraction in Jamie’s precog episode.
Sophie: Oooooohhhhhh.
Nell: Exactly. I didn’t manage to pry too many details out of him, but it sounded serious. Future marriage and babies kind of serious.
Sophie: OOOOOOOHHHHH.
Moira: You both know precog isn’t very reliable. It’s very possible this future he saw won’t come to be.
Nell: I know that, Moira, and so does he. What fascinates me is that he isn’t running screaming the other direction. I very much want to meet this Nat.
Sophie: Sounds like you’re about to have that chance. We expect frequent reports.
Moira: Tell Lauren welcome and blessed be.
…
“Aervyn Edric Walker, cut that out!” Nell redirected her son’s spell just before it hit target. Unfortunately, she redirected the hair-raising spell to a large bald man who was evidently wearing a toupee, which promptly rose up three inches off the top of his head.
Nell untangled the power flows—dang, the boy was getting good at impromptu spellcasting—and resettled the man’s toupee. A quick survey reassured her no one else waiting at the airport arrivals gate had hair standing on end. Well, possibly the teenager with pink hair, but that looked intentional.
“Aervyn, I know you’re bored, honey, but you can’t spellcast like that. People aren’t toys. Uncle Jamie’s plane is a little late, but he’ll be here very soon.”
“I could make his plane go faster, Mama.”
Nell fervently hoped that wasn’t true. Power grew the same way kids did, with sudden spurts that could take you by surprise. Judging by Aervyn’s appetite lately, they were in for a growth spurt of some kind. She hoped it was a physical one. Pants were easier to replace than all the things one small boy could break when he suddenly gained new magical talents.
She knelt down and pulled Aervyn close. “Remember, when you do big magics, you have to know what will happen with all the leftover energy. Pushing a plane would be really big magic, so those are the kinds of spells that you need to think through really carefully, with some help.”
“I cou
ld use the wind. I’m getting good at making small windstorms. I could make one that’s just a little bigger than Uncle Jamie’s plane.”
“That would be a pretty bumpy ride for him.”
Aervyn’s face shifted from pouting to thoughtful. “Uncle Jamie would probably like that, but his pretty lady might not. Or the new witch lady. I don’t want to make them sick; they might puke on Uncle Jamie.”
Nell could only be glad that today he thought puking might be a bad thing. The magical ethics of a four-year-old witchling were a work in progress, to say the least. She had crystal-clear memory of the farting spell Nathan had cast on his sisters at about the same age.
Aervyn’s eyes looked hazy for a moment. “He can see the airport now, Mama. The new witch lady is sleeping, but he’s going to wake her up.”
“Does he know you’re in his head, son of mine?”
He must be getting eye-rolling lessons from his sisters. “Yes, Mama. I knocked nicely and he opened a link for me. He says to tell you that his gizmo worked, and Lauren has been fine on the plane. Mama, what’s a gizmo?”
“Uncle Jamie did a little spellcoding on his iPod to create some barriers for Lauren. You remember I told you she’s a mind witch, right? Just like you.”
“Why doesn’t she make her own barriers?”
“She’s a beginner witch, so she’s just learning how to do that. When you’re just starting, it’s hard to do in crowded places like airports and airplanes, so Uncle Jamie is helping her.”
“How can she be a beginner witch? She’s a growed-up person—I saw her.”
“Not everyone knows they’re a witch when they’re born, sweetie. She just found out a few days ago.”
Aervyn’s forehead squished up. “Why didn’t one of the other witches tell her?”
“Maybe she’s never met another witch. Her family is different from ours. She doesn’t know lots of witches.”
“She’s gonna know lots now. Is that why she’s coming to visit? To meet us?” Aervyn started to ask something else, then turned toward the arrival gate. “They’re coming, Mama. Uncle Jamie just has to kiss his pretty lady first.”
Baby brother, if you’re going to let the four-year-old into your head, keep it G-rated. Nell was sorely tempted to ask Aervyn to patch her in to Jamie’s thoughts, but curiosity wasn’t a good enough reason to spy, especially when you were trying to model good witch manners. She’d corner Jamie later. Sometimes sisterly persuasion was more useful than magic.
She saw Jamie’s dark head above a line of passengers flowing through the exit door and grabbed Aervyn’s hand. “Just wait, sweetheart. Let them come to us.”
When they were only a few yards away, Aervyn yanked. “Mama, let go. She needs help.” Nell’s empathic talents were very weak, but even she could feel Lauren’s sharp distress. Judging from the heads suddenly turning their direction, so could half the people in the airport.
Aervyn skidded to a halt in front of Lauren and waved his fingers in the air. Nell knew that meant he was pulling big magic, and quickly; normally he didn’t need any physical cues.
Lauren’s distress vanished, and her entire body relaxed. Jamie shook his hand out—clearly Lauren had held it in a death grip—and gave Aervyn a puzzled look. Then he dove into Lauren’s purse and came out with what Nell assumed was his gizmo.
Jamie shook his head in disgust and led the group over to Nell. “Got any iPod batteries handy? Stupid charge just ran out.” He looked at Lauren. “I’m really sorry—that must have hurt.”
Lauren was holding Aervyn’s hand. “Big time. Thanks for putting some walls back up for me.”
Jamie shook his head. “Wasn’t me. I’m not sure I could have done it with this many people around. Aervyn did it. He’s still holding them up for you, I’m guessing.” He looked at his nephew for confirmation. “Can you hold them until we get home?”
“I can do it, Uncle Jamie. It was like Iceman. I blew a big wall of ice around her head. Good, huh?”
Punk child, Nell thought fondly. Then she remembered Aervyn’s spells often had some gaping logic issues and looked more closely at Lauren. Oops, the poor girl’s teeth were chattering.
“Love, that was a great big spell. I’m thinking that maybe a wall of ice will be pretty cold for Lauren the whole way home, though. Can you change it now, maybe to bricks?” Nell gave Jamie a look. Be ready in case he needs help.
Aervyn bristled. “I don’t need help, Mama.”
Oops, she’d forgotten he was linked with Jamie. She looked at her son. Bricks. Now. Sometimes being the mama was all the reason you needed.
“Bricks are boring.” Aervyn said. He closed his eyes for just a moment, no finger wiggling this time. “There, she won’t be cold now. Sorry, Lauren—I didn’t mean to freeze your brain.”
Lauren beamed at her pint-sized knight. “I like Iceman too. That was a very fancy spell, kiddo. When I grow up, I want to be a witch like you.”
Aervyn giggled. “You already growed up. Do you like the Matchbox cars?”
“Love them. Jamie only taught me how to make boring brick barriers. I think I’m always going to make mine out of Matchbox cars now. The big fire truck in the middle is the best.”
“I have one at home. You can play with it. Let’s go.” Aervyn started to tug on Lauren’s hand. Then he reached out for Nat’s, too.
Nell had completely forgotten about Nat in the coming of Iceman. So this was Jamie’s pretty lady. She was indeed pretty, and clearly captivated by one punk four-year-old witchling.
Aervyn peered up at Nat as they walked. “Can I play with him?”
Nat looked puzzled. “Play with who, sweetie?”
“The little boy who looks like me. When you and Uncle Jamie have a baby, can I play with him? He can share my fire truck, too. Mama says I’m getting pretty good at sharing.”
Nell had never wanted a camera more. Jamie looked like he’d just walked into a wall. Sweet! Aervyn had just exacted revenge for thirty years of little-brother mischief.
Lauren was clearly holding back laughter. One look at Nell’s face and she just doubled over, making odd choking sounds.
Nat never stopped looking at Aervyn. “I don’t know yet if that baby is meant to be. If he is, I would like nothing more than for you to be his friend.”
She took my troublemaker seriously, and she didn’t give him an easy answer. Nell was impressed. The pretty lady had some layers to her. Good. Any candidate member for a family of witches would need them.
Chapter 11
Nell led Aunt Jennie into her brother’s living room. Jamie and Nat sat on the couch, and Aervyn played with Jamie’s old Matchbox cars. They had opted to bring Lauren to Jamie’s house, since he had enough space and a lot fewer witchlings underfoot.
“Lauren’s been sleeping since we got in from the airport,” Nell said.
Jennie nodded and set down her camera bag. “I’m sure being in such a crowd for that long was hard for her.” She turned to Jamie. “Nell filled me in a bit about your Lauren. What can you tell me about her powers?”
Jamie shrugged. “Not sure I have a clear picture, honestly. In the airport today, when my barrier gizmo ran out of batteries, an awful lot of heads turned, so I’d say she can broadcast distress with some pretty serious volume. We haven’t spent much time on sending, though.
“As far as receiving, when I first tested her, it was obvious she’s highly sensitive. She picks up more sensory detail than anyone I’ve ever worked with, including Aervyn. Yesterday she picked up stuff from a barely-conceived fetus. That scared the crap out of me, so I packed her up and brought her here.”
“I’m not a souvenir T-shirt,” Lauren said from the doorway.
“Oh, good—you’re up.” Nell rose from Jamie’s huge and very ugly armchair. “Lauren, this is our Aunt Jennie. She’s a wonderful trainer, and the most powerful mind witch in our family. I want to give you two a chance to talk, so Nat, Jamie, Aervyn—out. Come help me in the kitchen or make yourselves scarce.�
��
I’ve got to learn that trick, thought Lauren as the room cleared in seconds. She looked over at the woman sitting on one end of a couch just as ugly as the armchair. So this was the witch who was supposed to train her. Hopefully she was good, and quick. Needing a four-year-old to ride to your rescue was embarrassing.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Come sit down, Lauren. I’ll tell you about my new grandbabies, because I just can’t help myself, and then you can tell me how you feel about all this.” Jennie gestured to the couch, and then sighed as a cup of tea appeared on the table beside her. “Bless Nell. If you sit down, I imagine a cup will arrive shortly for you, as well.”
Lauren blinked. Welcome to witch central. “You can teleport too?”
“Oh, no—I wish. That would have come in very handy over my lifetime. I’m a photographer, and all that equipment is heavy to lug around. How lovely to wave my magic wand and have it be where I need it.”
Lauren blinked again. “You use a magic wand?”
Jennie laughed and picked up her tea. “Not usually. A few crystals, nothing as fancy as a wand. Mind magics in general aren’t much helped by fancy tools.”
She gestured toward the tea that had appeared next to Lauren. “Teleporting, on the other hand, often benefits from a few bells and whistles. It requires large amounts of external power, and a wand can be useful to concentrate and focus those energies.”
Lauren frowned. It was hard to think straight with a fuzzy head. “Sorry, I just woke up. If you’re not teleporting the tea, how are you getting it here?”
“I imagine Jamie or Aervyn is sending it, since they’re the only two witches in California at the moment who could teleport something as large as a teacup without any preparation. Probably Aervyn—Jamie’s finally growing out of the need to show off for all the pretty girls.”
“A four-year-old is teleporting tea cups? Is that normal? Nell’s house must be nuts.”
Jennie rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. Five kids, two of them witchlings, and one of them the strongest witch in a century or more. Aervyn’s skills aren’t remotely normal. At four, he can do far more than most witches at the peak of their powers.”
