by Debora Geary
“So, what he did for me in the airport, most witch kids wouldn’t be able to do that?”
“Completely shutter a highly-sensitive mind in a crowd? Sweetheart, I might have been able to do it when I was younger, for a minute or two. Jamie is pretty sure he couldn’t have done it at all. We could have dampened the effect for you some, but what Aervyn did—no preparation, no circle backing him up—he’s the only living witch I know who could have shielded you that totally and held it that long.”
“I’m grateful he was there, but that must be a heck of a responsibility for Nell.” And I guess maybe I don’t have to be so embarrassed a child rode to my rescue, thought Lauren as she sipped her tea. Spearmint, she realized with a mental eye roll. Clearly Sophie wasn’t the only witch trying to fix her brain with some tea leaves.
Jennie grinned. “The tea works better than you think it does. And no, child, I’m not in your head. You’re thinking loudly enough any mind witch for a mile could hear you.”
Crap. There were a couple more in the kitchen with Nell. “Exactly how do I stop that?”
Jennie patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it for today. We’ll do some real work tomorrow, and I’ll show you how to gain some control over your volume. For now, Jamie and Aervyn will be blocking your thoughts on their end—it’s basic etiquette for mind sensitives. I’ll be more open to you while we work together, but only then. And trust me, there’s little you could think I haven’t already heard.”
“Can anyone else hear my loud head?”
“No. I’ve tasked Jamie with making sure of that. It’s the least he can do, since he blew open your channels the way he did. Normally you would become more sensitive as you trained, so you gain power as you gain control. Jamie pretty much short-circuited that for you.”
Lauren protested. “He shouldn’t be taking the rap for this. As far as I know, it was just some really unfortunate timing for his precog.”
“No one’s blaming him. But Jamie would be the first to say that even unintended consequences come with responsibility. You’re his, and now you’re mine too, and I’m glad for it.”
Lauren was a little overwhelmed. In the big city of Chicago, you mostly sank or swam on your own. There were a lot of people trying to help her float right now. All this for some stranger they’d found on the Internet.
“It’s freely given, child.” Jennie smiled. “For today, I just want to get to know you a little better. Do you want to tell me how you’re doing with all this first, or do you want to see my grandbabies?”
She’s kind of irresistible. Dynamo grandma and chatty neighbor all rolled up into one. “Show me your grandbabies. You said you’re a photographer—do you have pictures?”
“Indeed I do.” Jennie reached into her camera bag and pulled out a laptop identical to Lauren’s. She clicked a couple of times and handed it over, slideshow playing on the screen.
Make that dynamo grandma and computer whiz. Lauren gazed at the pictures, first in polite interest, then with gooey baby brain. Who could resist triplets? The babies were totally adorable. The pictures were stunning.
Lauren looked up. “You take amazing photographs. Your grandbabies are wonderful, but you have such talent. You must do this professionally.”
Jennie nodded toward a book on the coffee table. “I did. I’m more-or-less retired now. Portraits mostly, although sweet grandbabies weren’t my usual subjects.”
The portrait on the cover of the coffee-table book was unmistakable. Lauren knew it well. She’d seen it headlining an exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago Museum, and it had made her cry. It was about to make her cry again.
The photograph captured a young girl, curled up against a body shrouded and prepared for burial. No one had to tell you the child lay for one last cuddle with her mother.
Lauren looked up, tears in her eyes, and struggled to match artistic genius with the woman sitting across from her. “You’re J.W. Adams? I didn’t know the Art Institute ever showed the work of anyone who was still alive. Your photographs are life altering. Every single one makes you feel.”
Jennie’s face bloomed with delight. “What a beautiful compliment. Thank you. Yes, I’m Jenvieve Whitney Adams, but no one here calls me anything but Jennie.”
“You’re a witch, and yet you’ve dedicated your life to taking these stunning pictures.”
“It’s because I’m a witch that I can take these pictures,” Jennie said. “A good portrait photographer shows the outside of a person; a great one shows the inside. Being a mind witch makes it a little easier to see the inside, to know what the photograph needs to show.”
Lauren struggled with the ethics. “You read their minds before you take a picture?”
Jennie smiled. “It’s not as simple as being in or out of someone’s mind—there are a lot of possibilities in between. If you stay entirely out, you connect with no one. There are some ethical guidelines, but in the end, every mind witch needs to find her own limits, her own balance. I found mine at a place that lets me tell someone’s story the way it needs to be told.”
She paused, and then gestured at the cover of the coffee-table book. Lauren could see the sheen of tears. “The little girl—her name was Minah. She broke my heart. The only way I could find to honor her grief and her love was to take this picture, and to make sure I got it exactly right.”
…
Nell stood at the stove and stirred something that smelled miraculous. Could all of Jamie’s family cook, Nat wondered, or had she just been lucky so far?
“My brother’s a coward,” Nell said, glancing at the table where Nat was sitting. “He knows I want to put you under the microscope, and he abandoned ship.”
Nat laughed. Nell sounded like she was kidding. Mostly. “Maybe I should go play in the sandbox with Aervyn too.”
“It’s a close contest, but I have chocolate, if that sways things in my favor.”
“If it’s dark chocolate, you can quiz me all you want.”
Nell grinned. “Dark chocolate with orange or mint? If you promise to be really cooperative, you can have both.”
“Do you just want to plug into my mind, or play twenty questions?”
Nell snorted. “My mind talents are pathetic. We’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way. So tell me, how does it feel to have some strange witch see flashes of your future together?”
In the Smythe family, thought Nat, it would have taken hours to work around to that question. Ha. More like forever. Her family wouldn’t permit conversation about anything as unsuitable as witches.
She looked at Nell and considered. “How much did Jamie tell you about his precog?”
“Less than I’m hoping you’ll tell me.” Nell stirred a pot one last time and came to sit down at the table. “I’m sorry to be so direct. Well, I’m not really, but once upon a time, before I had five kids, I would have been a little more subtle.”
Nat quirked an eyebrow. “Or a pesky brother who could walk back in any time?”
Nell blushed. “Yeah, that too. So, are you going to spill, or not?”
I like her, Nat decided. Subtle she’s not, but she obviously loves Jamie, and she’s been wonderful with Lauren. Loyalty and generosity were two of her favorite things. Time to make a friend.
“Jamie linked me in so I could see what he saw. I didn’t actually realize it was about the two of us until the end. He’s not actually in the picture, if that makes sense.”
Nell frowned. “You didn’t see him, just you?”
“Right, almost like it was memories seen through his eyes. The first ones were what seemed to be a couple of first dates.” Nat couldn’t resist the temptation to do just a little prying of her own. “Does he like yoga?”
Nell goggled, and then shook with laughter. “Jamie? Yoga? Snowballs in hell will do yoga first.”
Nat grinned. Maybe a witch seeing your future wasn’t all bad. “I teach yoga. I’ll bet you a month’s supply of chocolate that he does sun salutations by Christmas.�
� She hoped the precog visions had been in chronological order.
“Here I thought my brother finally found a smart woman. You’re on.” Nell shook her hand and smirked. Then realization hit. “Wait—he saw this, didn’t he. He does yoga in his future? No wonder he was so shaken up.”
Nat was amused. “I like my chocolate dark, no nuts.”
Jamie and Aervyn walked in the back door, covered in sand.
“Out of my kitchen! Leave the sand outside.” Nell waved them back out.
“It’s actually my kitchen, big sister. I’m fine with a little sand. Real men get dirty.”
Nell didn’t bother to reply. She just gave him a look. Then she winked at Nat, and mouthed “watch”.
Nat watched as Jamie and Aervyn concentrated. She saw the air in front of them slowly begin to move, picking up bits of sand. The air sped up and began to spiral. At a nod from Aervyn, their baby whirlwind picked up and traveled around the two of them, collecting a funnel of sand.
The team magic was impressive, but it was the easy connection between them that held Nat; the kind of bond that spoke of a long history of happy hours together. She saw the look of mischief Jamie shot Aervyn. The sandy whirlwind darted over to Nell, and judging from the resulting giggles, gave her bare toes a good tickle. Then it headed out the door, presumably back to the sandbox.
“All clean, Mama. I’m hungry.”
Nell rubbed Aervyn’s head. “You’re always hungry after magic lessons, punk child. Jamie, can Lauren handle an invasion of the troops? I was going to call home and have Daniel bring everyone over, but I don’t want to overload her.”
“I can help her, Mama, just like I did in the airport.” Aervyn’s eyes danced.
Jamie picked him up. “Thanks for that, kiddo, but not necessary. I have new batteries in the iPod, so she can have her own personal force field back. If it worked in an airport, it can probably handle the Walker clan.”
…
Lauren looked at the crowd around Jamie’s dinner table. She was definitely not in Chicago anymore. Nell’s husband Daniel sat at one end, Jennie at the other. She, Nat, Jamie, and Nell shared the long benches on either side with a flurry of kids. She thought there were only five, but none of them held still for long—and she was pretty sure Aervyn was porting his sisters around. It was hard to tell with identical triplets.
She’d grown up with wonderful parents, but as an only child, Lauren’s first experiences with crowded meal times had come in college. Seven Walkers, Jamie, and Jennie could easily rival any college dining hall for both noise level and food consumption.
“Aunt Jennie, are you gonna teach Lauren how to be a mind witch?” Aervyn spoke with a mouth full of spaghetti. “She needs lots of practice.”
“Aervyn.” Nell glared at her witchling.
Lauren laughed. “He’s right. I can’t keep carrying Jamie’s gizmo around in my pocket forever. Can I, Aervyn?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Sometimes it runs out of batteries, and then you gotta know what to do.”
Aunt Jennie spoke up. “We’ll start our lessons tomorrow morning. Aervyn, it might be good for you to help us. You could use lots of practice too.” She reached over and tickled his ribs. “Mostly on your witch manners.”
“I can deliver him tomorrow afternoon,” Nell said. “He has to go see Dr. Celia in the morning and get his hearing aids refitted. Even his ears are growing fast right now.”
Lauren was shocked; she’d never noticed Aervyn’s hearing aids. As she looked more carefully, they appeared for a moment, and then disappeared again. Nice trick.
He was watching her very closely. Even powerful little witchlings must have some insecurities, she thought. She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Can you teach me how to do that? I want to be six feet tall and have ears like Cat Woman.”
He grinned at her. “You don’t have to do that. Uncle Jamie says you’re already plenty to handle.”
Lauren assumed the kick that hit her shins had been aimed at Aervyn. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. He nodded his head, whispered a few words back, and reached for her hand under the table. She barely had time to register the swoosh of her brain leaking out before Cat Woman was suddenly sitting in Jamie’s seat. The illusion lasted only a few seconds before Aervyn fell off the bench laughing, along with one of his sisters. Most of the rest of the room looked pretty unstable in their seats too.
The only person not overcome with mirth was Jennie. She looked at Lauren with interest, and more than a little surprise.
It suddenly occurred to Lauren that recruiting a four-year-old witch for her practical joke might have violated several rules of family conduct and witching ethics.
“Relax, girl—that was damn funny.” Jennie grinned. “Maybe one day Jamie will learn to keep some of his thoughts a little more tucked away.”
Jamie sputtered in mostly mock protest. “How am I the bad guy?”
Nell laughed. “You got punked by a four-year-old and a witch in diapers. You’re getting old, brother mine.”
Aunt Jennie held up a hand. “Am I the only one who noticed anything except Jamie’s lovely figure during that little display?”
Lauren figured her face held the same puzzled look as everyone else at the table.
Jennie looked at Aervyn. “Sweetie, did you cast an illusion spell on Uncle Jamie by yourself?”
Aervyn was clearly no dummy and promptly indicted his co-conspirator. “Nope. Lauren helped.”
Lauren was still puzzled, but all the other witches in the room seem to have solved some great mystery. “What’d I do?”
“You did Cat Woman. I just pushed it a little.” Great, Aervyn was throwing her under the bus. She kicked him under the table. He just giggled.
Jennie nodded. “I think she’s a channeler.” She turned to Lauren. “Did Jamie explain the different types of magical talent to you?”
“I’m not a trainer in diapers, Aunt Jennie,” said Jamie, rolling his eyes.
She might be a witch in diapers, Lauren thought, but until a few days ago, she’d been pretty good with basic conversational recall. “He did. Five kinds of power, two ways to use it. Channelers and spellcasters, right? What does that have to do with Cat Woman?”
“Good, you pay attention. That will come in handy. Aervyn is a pretty decent spellcaster for a four-year-old. Or rather, a very strong spellcaster still somewhat constrained by four-year-old logic. Spells have complex logic, and you can only cast a spell you can structure correctly.”
Jamie picked up the explanation. “For a spellcaster to work a complex spell, they need a power source. Normally you use elemental powers, or work with a circle. Aervyn is an elemental witch, so I assumed at first he had used those energies to produce Cat Woman.”
“Nope, I used Lauren,” said Aervyn gleefully.
“I don’t get it,” Lauren said. “Jamie, didn’t you say I have no elemental powers?”
“Deader than a doorknob,” Jamie agreed. “However, you have mind powers. Usually those aren’t strong enough to support a spell for long, and they drain the source. If Aervyn had tapped into my mind powers for that spell, I’d be unconscious on the floor.”
Lauren frowned. “I feel fine.”
“I didn’t hurt Lauren!” Aervyn added in protest.
Aunt Jennie squeezed his hand. “No, sweetie, you didn’t. You did exactly what a spellcaster should do. You tapped the nearest source of power you could use without harm. I don’t think you just took, though. Lauren channeled for you, didn’t she?”
Aervyn nodded. “I had to kind of show her brain what to do.”
“Of course you did. She’s never been a channeler before.”
Aunt Jennie looked at Lauren. “We’re not being very clear, are we? Aervyn spellcast the Cat Woman illusion, but you helped a lot more than I think you realize. I was saying before that spellcasters can work with a circle. One person, the channeler, works as the focus for the circle, collecting energy and directing it to the spellcaster. You
pulled power from your own mind and channeled it to Aervyn, and he used it to cast Cat Woman.”
Lauren was getting really tired of scrambled-egg brain. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually slow at understanding things. I didn’t do anything except show Aervyn what Cat Woman looked like in my head.”
Jamie shook his head. “It was very easy for you, and one day you’re going to understand how envious that makes the rest of us. Lauren, what Aunt Jennie is trying to say is that you probably have channeling talent, and you’re going to be a hell of a mind witch. Your talents in that arena might even be in Aervyn’s league.”
That was not exactly comforting, Lauren thought.
Aervyn got the last word. “Nope, she’s gonna be stronger than me. She needs a lot of practice, though.”
Chapter 12
“Cripes, this is frustrating.” Lauren pouted. “I was doing better with setting barriers in Chicago. Why am I having more trouble now?”
Trainee witches are all the same, mused Jennie. Whether four years old or twenty-eight, they all figured it should be easy.
“Normally we’d have taken a day or two off after your traveling. Your brain is tired from the crowds and that Cat Woman stunt you and Aervyn pulled last night.”
Lauren grinned. “Am I in trouble for corrupting a minor?”
“Ha. That one was born looking for partners in crime. He has four older siblings—you can’t do much damage.”
“I never had a little brother; it must be fun.”
“Oh, they can get tiresome at times. I have three, and it’s probably good I couldn’t teleport as a child.” Jennie smiled. “Who knows where they might have ended up. Did you hear the story of when Jamie ported himself and Nell to Chinatown?”
Lauren shook her head.
Better she starts learning about witchling antics now, Jennie thought. With the kind of power this one has, it won’t be surprising at all if her children have magic. A toddler with her channeling abilities could pull off all kinds of mischief.
