A Hidden Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,1
enough to reverse his spell.” She laid a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “With power comes responsibility to use your magic wisely and with good judgment.”
Kevin, who had been scribbling furiously in a notebook, looked up. “I think I know what he needs to do.”
Both Moira and Elorie nodded with approval—it was good for witches to develop a strong sense of communal responsibility. Kevin laid his book on the coffee table. He’d drawn some sort of complicated flow chart. Elorie’s eyes crossed just looking at it.
Kevin and Sean started talking and gesturing in some sort of incomprehensible twin-speak. Lizzie sat in Moira’s lap and played with her antique pendant. Finally Sean looked up. “Okay, I think I know what I need to do now, but we’re gonna need a circle.”
Moira rubbed his head. “Indeed. It often takes more power to undo a spell than to cast it in the first place. Best you be remembering that. Shall I be joining your circle, then?”
“Yes, please.” Sean’s face shone with pleasure, and Elorie felt the same in her heart. It was a rare thing for Gran to join a training circle these days. They all tried to pretend she wasn’t getting old.
Their circle assembled with the ease of long practice, and called to the elements. They pushed power to Sean and held it steady for him to start casting the reversing spell. Everyday magic at work.
Elorie watched from outside the circle, feeling the usual small ache of exclusion. The sense of accomplishment was newer. She’d almost entirely taken over Gran’s role coordinating witchling training in their little corner of the world. The next generation was coming along very nicely, and she could be proud of her part in making it happen. It had taken a while to find her purpose and make peace with it, but she’d found her way to belong.
As she watched, Sean’s fingers began to flutter, and she knew his spell reached readiness. A slight shimmer in front of her eyes, and she assumed from Lizzie’s grin that her pirate self had been replaced by plain old Elorie.
The kettle in the kitchen started to whistle. “Sean and Kevin, go make Gran some tea. Lizzie, you can get cookies out of the tin for everyone.”
The witchlings scampered off, and Moira winked at Elorie. “That’s a nice bit of spellcasting by our Sean, and some lovely circle work as well.”
Elorie grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
~ ~ ~
Moira smiled as she walked back into her cottage. Elorie was a wonderful witchling trainer. Others in the community could handle the training of specific magics, but Elorie was the glue that held it all together. It was a true shame her granddaughter had no power—she would have handled it well, with respect and a solid sense of tradition. Too many modern witches forgot their roots.
Aye, and old witches resisted using modern tools as well. Moira laughed gently at herself. She sat down in front of her laptop and made the now-familiar clicks that would take her to Witches’ Chat. Young Sean’s antics had delayed her a few moments, and Nell and Sophie were likely already waiting.
“I seek the ones who share my gifts,
To talk, to learn.
This portal will my power discern,
And let me in, as one of three.
As I will, so mote it be.”
Sophie: Aunt Moira, welcome!
Moira: Hello to you, Sophie, and Nell as well. I’m sorry I’m a wee bit late—we had a spell that needed reversing.
Nell: Uh, oh…
Moira: Just witchling pranks. Young Sean cast a pirate illusion on Elorie. It was quite good, actually—she looked and sounded quite ferocious.
Sophie: He’s got plenty of talent.
Moira: Indeed he does, and we haven’t anyone who can keep pace with him for long. I have an idea to propose to you, Nell.
Nell: I’m all ears.
Moira: How would you feel about bringing some of your young ones on a little trip this summer? I’m thinking we could have a bit of a summer gathering and do some intensive witchling training. Sean could use some lessons from a talented spellcaster—you’d be perfect for that job.
Nell: Sure, give me the troublemakers :-)… Nathan has a pretty busy summer, but I could definitely bring the girls and Aervyn. Let me figure out when we might be able to make the trip.
Moira: That would be lovely. It’s an open invitation—anyone who would like to join you is welcome, including you, Sophie. Elorie’s thinking about starting a website to sell her jewelry; I know she’d love to borrow a bit of your expertise.
Sophie: She’s