A Modern Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,42

moonstone, and those will help, but…

Moira: Those are wonderful choices, Sophie. Did you activate the lapis so it can choose her?

Sophie: I did, Aunt Moira. I’m a well-trained witch :-).

Nell: Jamie has something up his sleeve, too. We’ve been working on a handheld version of Enchanter’s Realm, and he tweaked a bit of our code to create some electronic barriers for Lauren.

Sophie: Her own personal force field? That’s so Star Trek.

Nell: That’s what I said. It’s highly experimental. He just set it up last night, but hopefully it will get the job done.

Moira: Witch force fields. I’m not sure I can wrap my brain around that, Nell.

Nell: Well, if it doesn’t work, he’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way and hold her barriers up himself.

Sophie: That sounds exhausting. Can he do that for four or five hours?

Nell: Let’s hope we don’t find out. I’ll take Aervyn to the airport with me to pick up the three of them. He has enough training to help stabilize her barriers if need be, so we have her covered at this end. Aunt Jennie’s down visiting her new grandbabies in San Diego, but she’s coming back tonight.

Sophie: Three?

Nell: Yes, Lucia had triplets. They’re adorable.

Sophie: Congratulations, that’s truly wonderful. But I meant the three you said are flying in—Lauren, Jamie, and who?

Nell: Nat’s coming as well.

Moira: Who would that be, dear?

Nell: Sorry, I forgot you and Sophie left before I cornered Jamie last time. Nat is a good friend of Lauren’s. Apparently she was the star attraction in Jamie’s precog episode.

Sophie: Oooooohhhhhh.

Nell: Exactly. I didn’t manage to pry too many details out of him, but it sounded serious. Future marriage and babies kind of serious.

Sophie: OOOOOOOHHHHH.

Moira: You both know precog isn’t very reliable. It’s very possible this future he saw won’t come to be.

Nell: I know that, Moira, and so does he. What fascinates me is that he isn’t running screaming the other direction. I very much want to meet this Nat.

Sophie: Sounds like you’re about to have that chance. We expect frequent reports.

Moira: Tell Lauren welcome and blessed be.

…

“Aervyn Edric Walker, cut that out!” Nell redirected her son’s spell just before it hit target. Unfortunately, she redirected the hair-raising spell to a large bald man who was evidently wearing a toupee, which promptly rose up three inches off the top of his head.

Nell untangled the power flows—dang, the boy was getting good at impromptu spellcasting—and resettled the man’s toupee. A quick survey reassured her no one else waiting at the airport arrivals gate had hair standing on end. Well, possibly the teenager with pink hair, but that looked intentional.

“Aervyn, I know you’re bored, honey, but you can’t spellcast like that. People aren’t toys. Uncle Jamie’s plane is a little late, but he’ll be here very soon.”

“I could make his plane go faster, Mama.”

Nell fervently hoped that wasn’t true. Power grew the same way kids did, with sudden spurts that could take you by surprise. Judging by Aervyn’s appetite lately, they were in for a growth spurt of some kind. She hoped it was a physical one. Pants were easier to replace than all the things one small boy could break when he suddenly gained new magical talents.

She knelt down and pulled Aervyn close. “Remember, when you do big magics, you have to know what will happen with all the leftover energy. Pushing a plane would be really big magic, so those are the kinds of spells that you need to think through really carefully, with some help.”

“I could use the wind. I’m getting good at making small windstorms. I could make one that’s just a little bigger than Uncle Jamie’s plane.”

“That would be a pretty bumpy ride for him.”

Aervyn’s face shifted from pouting to thoughtful. “Uncle Jamie would probably like that, but his pretty lady might not. Or the new witch lady. I don’t want to make them sick; they might puke on Uncle Jamie.”

Nell could only be glad that today he thought puking might be a bad thing. The magical ethics of a four-year-old witchling were a work in progress, to say the least. She had crystal-clear memory of the farting spell Nathan had cast on his sisters at about the same age.

Aervyn’s eyes looked hazy for a moment. “He can see the airport now, Mama. The new witch lady is sleeping, but he’s going to wake her up.”

“Does he know you’re in his head, son of mine?”

He must be getting eye-rolling lessons from his sisters. “Yes, Mama. I knocked nicely and