by Debora Geary
Sophie grinned. “She’s made everyone who built an outhouse in Realm regret that decision.”
Ah, yes—the Great Poop Caper. “The poor girl probably has no idea how long that particular bit of mischief will be remembered.” Witches had long memories, especially for particularly funny pranks.
Jamie snorted. “Since people are still talking about stunts Devin, Matt, and I pulled when we were three, she’s probably labeled for life.”
They had been rather memorable young boys. She leaned over and patted Jamie’s hand. “It’s the one where you turned yourselves into ballerinas that will always be my favorite.”
Jamie groaned and looked at Govin for moral support. “See what I mean?”
Moira chuckled. In seven decades, she’d seen plenty of rambunctious witchlings turn into responsible citizens. Sierra followed in a proud tradition. “It seems to me that with all our girl has been through in her young life, a little bit of play is a good thing.”
Nell looked thoughtful. “I agree with you—but I think part of our problem is that she thinks of all magic as playing.”
“Funnels aren’t just toys.” Govin leaned forward, very earnest. “With the kind of power she has, she needs to take her magic a lot more seriously. I’m not saying fun is out of the question, but the kind of play she does right now could easily cause catastrophic weather effects. With her power, she needs to be extra careful—and she doesn’t even begin to understand why.”
Moira watched as a blanket of seriousness settled over the room. And she knew what her role was on this day. Weather modeling was far beyond her—but a witch in need of training, she knew how to handle. “We need a plan, then.”
Govin nodded, clearly relieved. “She needs training in using magic safely. That Realm stunt was funny, but only because it was in cyberspace.”
“Training, yes.” Moira shared his urgency on that, but it wasn’t all that mattered. “But we must also take care of the witch, and not just her magic. Sierra’s a young girl. She’s not a rogue witch—she’s one who doesn’t know any better.” She held up her hand as Govin started to speak. “It won’t be rules and magical protocols that keep Sierra’s magic in check. It will be love and commitment. She’s one of us now, and we need to help her feel it.”
She smiled at Nell. “Our Aervyn controls his magic because we ask him to. Sierra doesn’t have many reasons to trust us yet. We need to give her some.”
“On that already.” Nell looked very pleased with herself. “I’ve got my girls ready to help her pick paint colors for her new apartment. We can decorate in a day or two. Normally I wouldn’t suggest a gender split, but she needs sisters and aunts right now—she’s really missing Amelia.”
“Of course she is.” Moira nodded sagely. “And there’s no shame in women’s work done for the right reasons.” She smiled at Jamie. “Which leaves men and small boys as her training team.”
He rolled his eyes. “I can paint.”
Nell grinned. “Pretty sure it’s going to be girly.”
Jamie held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll help train.” He looked at Govin. “Aervyn will be useful too, I think—she likes him. I’m going to suggest Devin as well, at least for as long as he’s here.”
Govin frowned. “He’s not exactly a role model for magical caution.”
Jamie shrugged “No, he’s not—but I think he’s the one most likely to understand Sierra.”
Silence hung for a moment. Moira waited patiently and trusted Govin’s analytical mind to follow the data.
“You’re saying I’m the wrong mentor.” He sighed. “You’re probably right. What I see as reckless, Devin will see in an entirely different light.”
“Aye.” Moira leaned forward, proud of her boys. “Which is why you are a good pair to work with her.” Magic was always about a complicated balance of personality and power. Govin would speak to Sierra’s magic, Devin to her heart. And whatever Nell might think, the girl needed honorary big brothers and uncles, too.
Nell grinned. “Can I sell tickets? Those are going to be some rather interesting training sessions.”
That they were.
~ ~ ~
Nell set down a second helping of waffles covered in a mountain of bananas and whipped cream. She figured eighteen-year-old girls weren’t all that different from their younger counterparts. “Here you go. After three hours of cleaning poop yesterday, you’ve earned it.”
Sierra grinned. “It would have taken a lot longer without all those people showing up to help.” She licked a bit of stray whipped cream off her finger and spoke more quietly. “That was really nice of them.”
“Ha. They all wanted to see the biggest mess ever created in Realm. You two made yourselves famous.” And it would probably take three days for Aervyn to stop giggling. Poop pranks were particularly funny if you were male and four.
“Purple dye is kind of hard to spell out of stuff.” Sierra winced. “And I didn’t mean for the tornadoes to get so big. In real life, I can adjust the power as they form, but with a pre-made spell, I couldn’t do that.”
Which was one of the things Nell wanted to talk about. “Yeah, one of the things we’re learning about putting together spells for the WitchNet library is that you have to build in a bigger margin of error. The witches who pull the spells out often don’t have the necessary magic to adjust them either.”
“I wonder… maybe you could build a control mechanism into the spell.” Sierra downed her milk in three gulps. “Kind of a step-switch, where you could step the funnel speed up or down a few notches. Give voice command to whoever activated the spell.”
That was freaking brilliant—and not at all what Nell had expected. It was a decidedly non-reckless idea. “That’s a great thought to explore with Govin. I don’t think we’re likely to be putting too many funnel spells into the library, though. We don’t really want a non-weather witch with that kind of power in her hands.”
“Even just to play? I could make a really baby funnel for kids to ride on.”
Nell sighed. It was like dealing with Aervyn in his more exuberant moods. “How much damage could a baby funnel do if someone activated it in their living room, or near a toolbox full of nails?”
It was obvious neither of those possibilities had ever occurred to Sierra. “I’m so dumb—I never thought of that.”
“Hey.” Nell reached out, her mama instincts wanting to comfort. “We’re all new to this idea of making spells for other people to use. Like you saw in Realm, it can be a lot of fun, but it can also have some unplanned consequences. We want you to work with Govin to help make weather spells that are really helpful, but also as safe as possible.”
Sierra looked down at her hands. “I’m not sure Govin likes me much.”
Nell debated for a moment, then chose the hard road. “He’s spent his entire life trying to keep people safe from some of the planet’s harsher weather patterns. He sees your talent as a risk.”
She reached out for Sierra’s hand as the girl’s face fell. “You need to show him that you can be a help, and that you can work safely.”
Sierra twiddled with a cookie. “How do I do that?”
“Tell him about your spell-control-mechanisms idea.” No way Govin could resist that one. She hoped.
“I want to help.” Sierra blushed. “But maybe funnel riding wasn’t such a good idea on my first day.”
Nell disagreed—she’d have paid big money to see Govin whirling around upside-down. “I think you can learn from each other. Govin needs to remember to relax and play a little, and you’re good at that.”
“Okay.” Sierra’s solemn nod reminded her very much of her youngest son. Very willing—and still not really understanding.
Ah, well. If three hours of cleaning up poop hadn’t made an impression, a few words over cookies weren’t going to alter lives either. It was a beginning, at least. Hopefully the other item on Nell’s agenda would be easier.
She grabbed her bag off the counte
r. “Got some stuff for you.” Opening an envelope, she started pulling items out. “A debit card, attached to the bank account where your paychecks will be automatically deposited. We advanced you a month’s salary, so you should have plenty in there to take care of whatever you need. A transit pass—standard employee benefit.” At least it was as of today.
Nell dug into the envelope one last time. “Keys and a map to your new apartment. It’s about six blocks from here and a short walk from the water, so Lauren hopes you like it. You can start fixing it up next Saturday. We figured you’d want a few days to paint and things before you moved in.”
Sierra nodded dumbly, looking delighted—and hopelessly lost.
Nell had some ideas about that. Right on cue, three curly heads invaded the kitchen. “And this is your painting crew. All you need to do is pick a color.” She leaned over and whispered. “Don’t let them talk you into pink.”
“Mama!” three voices protested in unison. Ginia grinned. “Sierra can pick whatever color she wants. So long as it’s not boring.” She upended an entire backpack of paint chips on the table. “We hope you like one of these. We picked all our favorites.”
“I’ve never picked my own paint.” Sierra’s sniffly giggles arrowed right into Nell’s heart.
Mia sat down, reaching for a couple of paint chips. “Here’s two I like. Bikini Pink and Pearly Purple.”
Nell hid her amusement as fierce debate broke out. She had twenty bucks riding on Bikini Pink in the betting pool.
~ ~ ~
Lauren looked over at Sierra, breathing in the salt-misted morning air as they walked down the beach. She could feel the girl’s mind streaming relaxed gratitude as they walked. It was the same way Nat’s mind felt after yoga.
Nat smiled and copied Sierra’s breathing. “It smells good. I always wonder where the air’s come from, and where it will head to next.”
Sierra stopped and looked out at the water, tilting her head. “It’s blowing from the northwest, so…” She grinned. “I think it’s only the whales that have seen this air since it left Siberia.”
Lauren laughed and pulled down on the edges of her hat. “Well, that would explain the temperature.”
“Want me to warm it up a little?” Sierra wiggled her fingers. “It’s warmer right above this fog, so it wouldn’t take much. Just a little fire magic.”
Nat shook her head. “No, thanks. My belly bean here is finally sleeping, and fire magic wakes her up.” She grinned. “Lauren’s from Chicago—she can take it.”
Lauren was feeling like she had weak California blood now, but she was hardly going to insist on waking up the baby. She reached into her pocket to double-check that her phone was on. Good realtors knew emergencies happened when you weren’t prepared. If Nat went into labor on the beach, she wanted a teleporting witch available, stat.
Sierra was staring at Nat’s belly, fascinated. “How does it feel?”
Nat walked a little closer to the waves, daring the water to grab her toes. “Lately, like I’m really a bowling ball with toothpicks for my arms and legs.”
Sierra giggled. “Momma used to tell me she was seriously happy the whales came to swim with her when she was really pregnant, because they made her feel sort of graceful again.”
Lauren looked out at the ocean and tried to imagine a morning dip. Brr. “Did she do that often? Go swimming in the ocean?”
“Sure.” Sierra nodded absently, looking out toward the horizon. “We went out all the time. I haven’t gone out here yet, but when I swam in Oregon I had to be careful—it scared people if they saw me out there.”
She went swimming in the Pacific Ocean by herself? Lauren exchanged glances with Nat. No way that sounded like a good idea, but you didn’t just tell an eighteen-year-old what not to do.
Nat touched Sierra’s hand. “Maybe we can find somebody here who would like to swim with you.”
The girl shrugged, unconcerned. “It’s no big deal. I just swim far enough out so people can’t see me, and it’s fine.” She frowned. “It’s going to be harder here, though. More people on the beaches. In Oregon, the coast is pretty quiet in the winter.”
Lauren shook her head, sure her ears hadn’t heard that right. “You go swimming in the winter?”
“Uh, huh.” Sierra was still staring out at the horizon. “I use fire magic to stay warm.”
This was rapidly exceeding Lauren’s areas of expertise as a fairly new witch. Maybe ocean swims in the middle of winter were normal for someone with water talents. She’d freak out quietly for now.
Sierra started bouncing on her toes. “They’re coming. The dolphins—do you see them?”
Nat laughed as a graceful arc broke the horizon. “Did you call them?”
“Nuh, uh.” Sierra shook her head. “You did. They love babies who are just about to be born.”
Lauren grinned, hearing the teasing edge to Sierra’s mental voice. She made a face at her best friend. “Maybe it’s just because you look like a beach ball.”
She danced a few steps backward as Nat threatened to dump cold water down the back of her jacket. It was probably an idle threat. For now.
~ ~ ~
Govin tapped his keyboard aimlessly and sighed. He was getting nowhere on the new WitchNet weather spell organizing. Partly because the spells were a total hodge-podge, and partly because his brain was still out at Ocean’s Reach.
Sierra was an amazing witch—and she scared him silly. He had no idea what to do about it.
TJ wheeled back from his desk. “Wanna talk about it?” He grabbed a bag of chips in anticipation. TJ never talked without food present, preferably the kind that came out of crinkly bags. It was the kind of annoying habit only tolerable in an old friend.
Govin headed to the fridge for some grapes and cheese. Occasionally TJ could be convinced to expand his snack to more than one food group. “It’s probably no big deal.”
His buddy snorted. “You’ve been stewing since you got back from lessons yesterday morning. What’s up? The girl not any good?”
Crap. TJ had been listening. Usually he managed to ignore stuff muttered in the general direction of the office wall. “Our new intern? She’s very talented. Best weather witch I’ve seen in a very long time.”
TJ sat up straighter, then turned back to his desk. “Strong enough to affect the planetaries?”
“Yeah.” Govin grabbed a chip. “And no, we didn’t play quite that big yesterday. You won’t see any alerts.” But they’d come close. Very, very close, and Sierra had clearly not been using anywhere close to peak power. The list of witches strong enough to mess with planetary weather was very short. It was killing him to think the list had been short a name. How had they missed her?
“She got decent control?”
“Yeah. Very decent. She can make a storm funnel sit and wag its tail.”
TJ blinked. “And this is bad, because…? We could use more help around here.”
“She’s dangerous, Teej.” And explaining why to a non-witch would be a challenge. “Her mother trained her, and she skipped over most of the stuff we do to keep big spells safe. The girl’s been playing with huge power, the kind with no room for error. She’s lucky she’s still alive.”
TJ’s chip-loaded hand paused in mid-air. “Probably some other people aren’t so lucky.”
Govin felt his nameless unease morph into dread. That was it, exactly. Trust TJ to nail the problem in one. Sierra was still alive. But when weather witches messed with big magic, it was far too easy for someone else to die. “Exactly. And she probably hasn’t always had this kind of control.”
He could see TJ’s massive brain cranking. “Do you know where she lived?”
When you had to ask the awful questions, it was really good to have a friend walking beside you. “Traveled all over with her mom until six years ago. I don’t know all of where, but I know she was in Fiji summer of ’02, Indonesia the following March, and New Orleans when her mother vanished.” That much he’d pic
ked up from her casual conversation with Aervyn.
TJ turned back to his computer. “Lemme look at our anomalies file.” That was where they tracked unexplained weather disturbances, which were unfortunately legion. “Yeah. I got stuff in Fiji, and stuff off the south coast of Indonesia in spring ’03.” He looked up. “The Fiji one is where we had to make it rain for three weeks straight to dampen the tsunami reverbs.” You had to send weather energy somewhere—and rain was better than killing waves.
Govin shoved his fingers through his hair. He was too well-trained a mathematician to jump to easy conclusions. “Think it was her?”
TJ shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe her and her mom working together? As anomalies go, they were pretty small. I could try to cross-ref, but I’m guessing the kid probably doesn’t remember what kind of magic tricks she was doing eight or ten years ago.”
A decade ago, no. Govin stared at the anomalies file. Oh, shit. He grabbed his cell. “Hey, Nell. Do you know where Sierra’s lived for the last six years?” He waited a minute while Nell shuffled some papers around, then wrote down her answer.
Then he hung up and looked at TJ. “New Orleans six years ago. Stayed in Louisiana for a few months, lived inland for a while.” Inland didn’t matter—you needed an ocean to mess with planetary weather patterns. “She’s been on the Oregon Coast for the last two years. Near Florence.”
TJ blinked. “She’s our Oregon anomaly?” He ran a quick search in his file. “Yeah. First reading’s from twenty-three months ago, and a lot higher frequency in the last six.” He looked up. “She’s getting stronger.”
“Yeah.” Most weather-witch talents peaked in adulthood. And Sierra was already a major force to be reckoned with. The good news was, she probably hadn’t been able to wreak worldwide weather havoc for very long. The bad news was so many kinds of bad, it hurt his brain just to think about it.
“It really is a rogue witch. Damn. I was sure we had aliens.” TJ grabbed another monster-sized handful of chips. “She’s gotta get things under control before she messes with something serious.” He frowned back down at his data. “Assuming she hasn’t done that already. How the hell does she pull warm currents all the way from Hawaii?”
