A Hidden Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,70

sighed. Witchling pranks could be reversed. That kind of love-struck tended to be terminal.

One more decent man lost.

Elorie elbowed him and spoke under her breath. “You can’t possibly be that big a curmudgeon.”

Marcus grunted and stretched a hand out toward Mike. “Congratulations, son, and good luck. You’ll need it.”

Mike grinned, the dopey look of a man who’d lost his way. “I’m having a baby. Well, Sophie’s having a baby. We’re having a baby.”

Any man who repeated himself three times was already underwater.

As Elorie jumped up to hug the father-to-be, Marcus tried to hold on to his sense of superiority and ignore the slide of fear in his heart. Most witchlings lived long, happy lives. Almost all of them.

This was the problem with coming out of his cave. Too darn many things tugging at his heartstrings.

~ ~ ~

Elorie held tight to Aaron’s hand as they hurried down to the beach. An accidental after-dinner nap had the two of them running very late for Sean’s full circle.

She couldn’t believe they’d actually made it to the evening without Gran discovering the sizable hole in her back yard. It would be a masterpiece of beauty and warmth when Sean was done, but right now, it was a frightful disturbance in the well-tended order of Gran’s garden.

She’d never seen several dozen witches keep a secret for ten minutes, never mind an entire afternoon. Somehow, Gran managed to bring out the best in people, even when she wasn’t trying.

Kicking off their shoes in the sand, they ran over to where everyone had gathered, inner and outer circles already formed. Moira looked up and smiled. “And that’s all of us. You look well rested, my dear. Let the circle begin.”

Elorie dropped into place in the outer circle next to Lauren and picked up her flute. Breathing deeply, she began to play the slow melody to the moon that had begun every evening circle she could remember. Haunting and sweet, the notes rose over all who gathered.

Other instruments in the outer circle added harmony and quiet echo, an offering of peace and love, and an invitation to belong—to the magic and to each other. Memory poured in, of the first full circle when the flute had been hers to play. Hesitant child’s fingers moving carefully through the notes Gran had taught, and then pausing in wonder as those notes were picked up and magnified.

Witch or not, this had always been her place.

As she finished, Lauren reached for her hand. That was the purest kind of magic. You weave hearts together as beautifully as you weave spells.

Elorie looked on the moon and the beach, the familiar faces. She loved being a very small part of this great whole.

And now her students would take their places, too.

Her trainer’s heart beat proudly—they looked so competent. Kevin and Sean, channeler and caster, ready in the center. Lizzie on point for water trio, with Gran standing just behind her. That one made Elorie’s heart lurch a little, but then she saw the pride on Gran’s face. Some changes were happy ones.

Lizzie stepped forward, holding a bowl of water, and Elorie gulped back the lump in her throat. Gran beamed as Lizzie lifted the bowl moonward and began the call to water in her young, clear voice.

“We of the West call on Water,

Of life-giving stream and cleansing rain.

We of the West call on Water,

The ocean’s reach and drops under our feet.

We of the West call on Water,

With voices three.

As we will, so mote it be.”

Many murmured the familiar words along with her, and Elorie felt the breeze of gathering power. She also saw Gran’s eyes open wide.

Lauren laughed quietly beside her. She’s got some serious power, that little one. Here, Aervyn has me linked in. I’ll share so you can see.

Elorie felt Lauren’s link, and then she could see the flowing spiral of water power for herself. Unlike previous mindlinks, she could also still see with her eyes. No, wait—with Aervyn’s eyes.

Yup, Lauren sent. He’s a tricky little witch. You’re seeing what he sees, magic and non-magic.

Elorie watched in fascination as the other elements were called, adding sparking fire, swirling air, and solid earth flows to her field of vision. Then Kevin, steady and sure, began to gather the power. After experiencing the hurricane for herself, she could only applaud his quiet self-confidence.

When he had the energy streams neatly collected, he threw a huge power line toward his brother.

Elorie sensed Lauren’s surprise as it was neatly caught. I guess they’ve done that before. He