A Celtic Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,41

experience - but the rest of the world tended to think the rocks were hidden way down under the grass somewhere. She opened her mind, letting the steady presence that was the rocks move to the forefront.

Wow. Sean's voice was barely a whisper. A very awed whisper. Mike, do you see that?

Yeah.

Cass was pretty sure grown men didn't usually sound that flabbergasted. Damn. She turned down the volume on the rocks some. And confronted the challenge at hand. I'm not sure how to find the rock we want to talk to. Maybe I'm not hearing the right ones.

Uh, I don't think that's going to be a problem. Mike's mindvoice still sounded wobbly. Pretty sure you have contact with the mothership, Cass.

She had very little idea what he was talking about.

You hear the planet, I think. I've never seen anything quite like it.

That didn't seem grounds for shock and awe. I just listen to the rocks. Her head was squeezing uncomfortably. Can we get on with this? I don't think my magic is used to this kind of linking.

The pressure on her head eased almost instantly. Better? Sophie's mind presence was soothing, cool. I cleared your channels a little.

Cass didn't bother to nod - clearly they were all far more seasoned at this than she was.

Someone gave Mike a mental kick in the pants, which shattered the lingering awe in the group. He chuckled. Okay, let's get moving. Sean, can you hold the picture of Moira's rock in your mind really clearly? Like a beacon. See if you can make it shiny or something. Cass, we're going to look around the rocks you feel and try to find Sean's signal.

That seemed sensible. Almost. Can he make the rock noisy instead? I don't really "see" anything. I hear.

The circle issued a collective groan in chorus with one young rock witch's glee.

Cass grinned. Apparently Sean was a fine noisemaker.

The group quieted, a suddenly disciplined vibe she innately recognized. The attentive, sure movements of people long used to working together. Musicians had it, and so did Nan's healers. A glow of energy from the other side of the circle - and then expectancy. Waiting.

Sean's speeding up some of the molecules in the rock's surface. Marcus offered competent, distant commentary. If noise can be made, it should happen shortly.

She listened, ears straining to hear a new sound in the low, familiar beat of her rocks. And nearly giggled when she found it. Somewhere, far in the distance, came the distinct "argh" of a pirate.

I believe that's what you seek. Marcus's mindvoice was dry as dust.

Cass couldn't resist the urge to tweak him. To bridge the distance. That's fine magic - he must make you proud.

Oh, he does that. Finally, the touch of humor she'd been seeking. In between bouts of making us crazy.

She grinned. It probably took a certain level of maturity to appreciate Sean's stunts. Fortunately, tour buses were havens for the Seans of the world. She had a highly developed appreciation for their hijinks.

And so, well hidden under his pithy words, did Marcus. Cass leaned into his mental presence, moth to flame.

Can you find out why the rock has cracked? Moira's mind this time, tinged with light amusement.

Dangit. Cass snapped her focus back into place. Buddy would have whacked her on the head with his bow if she'd woolgathered this much. She let herself sink down into the steadiness of the rocks, a lifetime of shared presence guiding her instincts.

Talking to the rocks was generally futile - if they had ears, human voices weren't what they heard. But she could listen. With the skill of a master musician, she tuned out the sounds that didn't matter now. The low heartbeat, the surging of faraway molten flows, the jingle of pebble and sand's eternal whispering dance.

It was the pirate she sought.

And what she heard when she found it made her smile. A young rock, one that had been willing to be shaped by magic and love, having itself a little stretch.

Teenage apology from a rock older than humanity.

The rocks hummed. Easily fixed.

We can help. Mike held out a glowing nimbus.

Cass stayed in rock communion, watching in awe as the trio of earth witches wove a delicate web of magic around the crack. A pause as they joined forces with a power far larger and older than any of them and offered healing.

The crack melted away, a nano-moment in the sands of rock time.

Time to go. Marcus sounded a bit alarmed. Moira tires. We need