Jamie nodded, already making plans in his head. “You need us to code a library of spells.” He could see the eagerness in the faces around him. Finding volunteers was not going to be a problem. He sensed a witch code-a-thon in the making.
Govin grinned. “We already have a pretty good library, but I’m guessing turning moat waters into fiery flames isn’t what you had in mind.”
Elorie laughed. “If any of you have moats in real life, we can give it a try, but no. Mostly I’m thinking about the everyday kinds of spells—simple healing, bringing rain, seeking—the ways most of us help our friends and neighbors now, but it will give us all a wider range of options.”
Mike looked serious. “This could be used for more than just the everyday. We could save lives with this.”
Elorie slowly swept the room. “Yes, we can, and we will. I’m hoping to start with the everyday aid. It will help us work out the kinks and the logistics, to figure out how to be a community in a different way than most of us are used to.”
She took a deep breath. “But where we can bring small magics, we can also bring much larger magic.” She looked straight at Marcus. “I dream of a world where far fewer are lost or hurt because we couldn’t get the magic there in time.”
She stretched her hands out to the group. “We are witches, and service is our highest calling. I’m asking each of you, as you wish and as you are able, to help.”
Marcus was the first witch on his feet.
Chapter 21
Moira walked out into the early morning mists of her garden. Sleep had done a wondrous job of reviving her old bones. She was more than a little surprised to find her nephew taking a soak, and downright astonished when he smiled and stood to help her in.
“You seem rather cheerful this morning, my dear.”
Marcus shrugged. “I woke up early. No idea why. I was up half the night working with Jamie to organize the new spellcoding library. We’re already being pelted with spells. Witches can be a rather disorganized lot.”
Moira hid a smile. “They’re just eager to help.”
“They could help by sorting.” Marcus snorted. “And by using their heads. Young Sean’s already uploaded a pirate illusion spell and an eavesdropping spell.”
“How delightful.” Moira laughed at her nephew’s scowl. There was the Marcus she knew and loved. “You never know when a pirate spell might come in handy.”
His eyebrows nearly crossed. “You can’t possibly be serious.”
“It’s getting the witchlings involved in helping others, and that’s a beautiful thing. An eavesdropping spell just needs a little reshaping to become a seeking spell that could find a lost child. Why don’t you ask our Sean to work on that for you?”
He grunted.
She took that as a hopeful sign and pushed a little harder. “He’s a strong and very imaginative spellcaster. It will take a creative trainer to get the best out of him.”
“Hmm. Perhaps partnering him with Kevin will help. His twin shows a little more sense.”
Moira had to turn away and gaze on her flowers to hide her smile this time. Elorie wasn’t the only witch coming out of her shell lately. Marcus training witchlings, and with only token protests—who could have imagined?
“It’s a very important responsibility Elorie has now,” Marcus said. “You’ve prepared her well.”
“I’ve helped her become the woman she was meant to be.” And so very proud she was of who her granddaughter had become. The witching community had gained a new leader yesterday, one who would use her new magic to strengthen the old ways.
“She’s got a firm grounding in tradition, and a strong sense of obligation to those around her.”
Moira’s heart twisted a little. “You speak of obligation and responsibility, but Elorie does this out of love. She has a truly magnificent heart.” And perhaps a tiny ray or two of that love would seep into the fortress her nephew had built around his own heart.
He’d been such a sensitive boy. The day Evan had died, something in Marcus had broken. The healer in her had ached for that small boy for almost half a century now. Even for a witch steeped in tradition, that was a very long time to hold onto hope.
He’d smiled at her this morning. At the start of a glorious summer day, she was going to hold tight to that.
And she wasn’t above meddling. “I hear that Jamie and young Aervyn are