A Hidden Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,56
“Yeah, I thought that, too. Blending spells with Net power is a little like spellcasting. When Ginia does it, she pulls power directly from those who cast the initial spells, but Kevin handled that for Elorie.”
“Exactly,” Lauren said. “He also helped hold everything steady as she organized the power streams. It was quite a nice piece of work, and very similar to channeling for a traditional circle.”
Now, wasn’t that interesting. “Well, then. It sounds like this would be a very good week for a gathering. Sunday’s a full moon, so that would be auspicious timing. Three circles, I think—we’ve lots of witches that could use the extra training. We’ll make sure Sean and Kevin get their chances.”
“What’s a gathering?” Lauren asked.
Sophie grinned. “Prepare for an invasion, Nova Scotia-style. I’ll go have the witchlings start spreading the word.”
~ ~ ~
“Put me down, Aervyn Walker!”
Sophie spun around at Lizzie’s furious words and spied her young charge floating four feet up in the air. “What’s going on, kiddos?”
“He started it!” Lizzie was an only child and getting a crash course in having a younger munchkin around. It wasn’t all going smoothly.
Aervyn, well used to holding his own as the youngest of five, just tried to look as innocent as possible. Since he was soaking wet and Lizzie was their best water witch, Sophie was pretty sure he wasn’t the only guilty party.
Mike appeared around the corner of the house, grabbed Lizzie’s ankle, and pulled her to the ground. “Aaron’s looking for some help picking strawberries. Anyone interested?”
Lizzie’s mad vanished. She grabbed Aervyn’s hand and towed him toward the inn. “Come on. I’m a really good picker, and Aaron always lets us eat as many as we want.”
Sophie laid her head on Mike’s shoulder, feeling his arm wrap around her. “Saved by the berries. Thanks.”
“Still think you want a couple of your own one day?”
“Ssh!” Sophie giggled even as she hushed him. “If Aunt Moira hears you talking like that, she’ll be knitting baby blankets by this afternoon.”
Mike’s eyes were suddenly intent. “Would that be such a bad thing?”
Sometimes, life’s moments of decision snuck up on you. Standing in Moira’s garden, mouth half open in shock, Sophie met the gaze of the man she loved and did as he asked—opened herself to possibility.
She felt her heart bloom. Decision made.
Glowing with certainty, she reached for his free hand, palm to palm. Letting her power flow, here in this place of her childhood roots, she made him a promise, silent and strong. Time had often stopped for her in Moira’s garden. Now it stopped for them both. And Sophie knew, whatever the future brought, it would be for the two of them together.
“Uncle Mike, we hafta go!” They looked up at Lizzie’s yell from the street, where Aaron’s van awaited.
“Sorry, I’m on strawberry-picking detail.” He bent over and plucked three flowers for her. “I’ll try to save some for you.”
As he jogged off, Sophie looked at the blooms in her hands. A daffodil, a dahlia, and a daisy. In the language of flowers, a message of new beginnings, joy, and forever love. A promise.
Elorie walked over with two glasses of lemonade. Her eyes widened as she looked at the flowers. Anyone raised around Moira knew the language and lore of blooms. “Interesting bouquet.”
“They’re from Mike.”
“Oh, really. Does he know what they mean?”
Sophie stroked the daffodil’s soft petals. “He does.”
She looked up to see tears glistening in the eyes of her childhood friend. “I’m really happy for you, Sophie. He seems like a wonderful man.”
Ah, this was the sister she had missed. So very much. Words disappeared into feeling. She hugged her friend, held her flowers, and sniffled, entirely happy.
After a moment of quiet bliss, Elorie grinned. “Did you warn him that Gran will expect grandbabies?”
“He’s on her side on that one.”
“Well, I guess he knows what he’s getting into. He seems really balanced, and he’s clearly got a good dose of courage, going strawberry picking with the young ones.”
Sophie laughed. “I’m grateful. I think those two have had about as much witch school as they can take for one day.”
“Not everyone finds plants and herbs fascinating.”
Sophie nodded over to where Ginia and Moira had their heads together. “Some do, and that’s all we need—just one or two to pass on the lore. Aunt Moira knows so much—I feel like I can’t possibly hold it all. Ginia’s drinking it up, but the two little ones were done.”
“They’re not the only ones. Nell was a tough taskmistress for