swept up in the excitement had fire in his hands and a fairly unlimited power supply. A few very busy seconds later, Jamie looked up at the scorch marks on his ceiling and sighed. You’d think by now he would have learned to play with fire outside.
Aervyn looked slightly worried. “Sorry, Uncle Jamie. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know it, short stuff.” He looked over at Ginia, whose delight hadn’t been dampened at all by the accidental fire. She was radiant.
He was blindsided by the force of his sudden yearning. Maybe one day, he’d be lucky enough to be there when his baby girl owned her magic for the first time.
He’d paint over all the scorch marks in the world for that chance.
~ ~ ~
Moira sat at her kitchen table, the warm comfort of a cup of tea in her hands, and tried to be patient. It wasn’t easy. Her heart needed to set eyes on her granddaughter.
A journey to the other side of the continent was big enough, but Elorie had also walked the path from woman to witch. A sizable part of Moira’s heart hurt that she hadn’t been there to see it.
No matter. She’d soon see her sweet girl and know for herself how things sat. Being a witch wasn’t always sunshine and roses, and if Marcus spoke true, Elorie was having a bit of a difficult time.
She got to her feet at the sound of footsteps coming up the garden path. At last.
“Gran.” Elorie took the few steps from the door into Moira’s arms.
“Welcome home, my beautiful granddaughter. Let me look at you.” It was obvious at a glance that Marcus had indeed been right. All was not well with her girl. “Let’s take a walk in the garden, shall we? I could use some fresh flowers, and your young legs could save mine a bit of bending.”
“Nice try.” Elorie smiled as she reached for the kitchen shears. “Those flowers on the table look cut this morning, and I’m sure your old legs were up to the job.”
There we go; that was a bit more like her granddaughter. Moira hid her satisfaction. “Then we’ll send flowers home with you. Aaron always has room for another vase or two.”
Moira trusted that the gardens would work their magic of soothing and opening. They almost always did. And if that didn’t work, there was always good old-fashioned prying. The Irish were masters at sticking their noses in where it mattered.
Elorie cut a few flowers and laid them in the gathering basket. Then she looked up and spoke softly. “It’s not at all what I imagined, Gran.”
Moira’s heart squeezed. “Sometimes it isn’t, sweetling. Tell me about what it is like, then.”
“There’s power—I felt it turn on inside me. But there’s no magic.” She held up a flower. “I always dreamed that one day I would sit in your garden and watch a flower bloom in my hands, or light a candle.”
“I know, my sweet girl.” Moira laid her hand gently on her granddaughter’s shoulder. Elorie wasn’t the only one who had held that dream tightly and needed to let it go now. “But we must live with what is. One day, you’ll sit in my garden and we’ll work magic together—that I can promise you. For now, your job is to learn about your gifts and what they can do.”
Elorie broke away, agitated. “My gift is to put my hand on a computer part and set off some nice readings on a screen. What use is that?” She kicked at a rock. “I’m a freak, not a witch.”
Moira hesitated a moment, unsure how best to comfort. “You’re not alone.”
Elorie took a deep breath. “I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound like Lizzie when she needs a snack. Ginia is delighted with this new power, but she has a way to use it. The last thing I want to learn is how to play some online game.”
“Well, then, we’ll just have to find some other purpose for this magic of yours, won’t we? We can’t have a useless witch in our midst.” Moira picked up the basket of flowers. “Come, let’s have some tea.”
Elorie stood frozen on the path. “I’m not useless!”
Moira swallowed a smile and pinned her granddaughter with a very serious look. “Indeed, you’re not. You’re simply a witch on a journey to find her true purpose. That’s a very important difference, my girl, and you’ve a lot of people to help you.”