A Modern Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,60
a hacker for hire. He tries to rob banks and steal company data and stuff like that. Companies pay him to pretend to be a bad guy, and they pay him more if he wins, so he wins a lot.”
And he shows his three non-witchling daughters that you can be a fulfilled and successful person without any magical talents, thought Jamie. Which is especially important when your baby brother is the most revered witchling for generations.
Ginia looked at Nat, worship in her eyes. “So see, sometimes witches marry someone who isn’t a witch, and it can turn out really good.”
Little plotters, thought Jamie. So much for thinking they’d been distracted from their initial mission. “Sometimes uncles with sneaky triplet nieces have to turn all their French fries green.”
Three heads looked at their food. “Uncle Jamie, that’s gross!”
Worked every time. Precog visions were plenty of pressure. They didn’t need three pint-sized matchmakers too.
...
Lauren and Jennie wandered along Derby Street, site of the Friday Berkeley farmers’ market and Lauren’s next lesson.
Jennie had picked a fairly quiet time, mostly families and little kids. Lauren was trying to mentally adjust to a climate where you could buy fresh produce in February. There were stalls with everything from mushrooms and broccoli to artisan cheeses and locally ground flour.
“This is so not Chicago,” Lauren said. “What an amazing place.”
“I used to come down here and take pictures almost every week. I think every kind of person eventually drifts through the Berkeley farmers’ market.”
Lauren looked around. You saw a pretty wide range of humanity living in downtown Chicago, but she still felt like a gawking tourist. “I can believe it. Check out the twin toddlers with purple hair playing on the grass over there.”
Jennie followed her point. “They’ll make a nice first training exercise. This afternoon, we’re going to practice reading outer mind thoughts. I want you to soften your barriers just enough to scan and figure out who owns those two cuties.”
Lauren frowned. “That seems a bit invasive. How do I not get a lot more than I want to know, or than someone wants to share?”
“Our minds have layers. We all keep our more private thoughts well sheltered. The outermost layer almost always contains information we’d be happy to share with most people. You have to be respectful—occasionally you will encounter a mind where the layers are not as well formed, or the content is about you, and unless you have good reason, you’ll need to back away.”
“That doesn’t sound very black and white.”
“It’s not. The ethics of using power rarely are. With children, we give more concrete rules, but you’re a grown woman, so you’re going to have to figure out your own rules. Have you found a parent for the two toddlers yet?”
“I’m supposed to do that and talk, too?”
Jennie laughed. “Not really, but it would have been very impressive. Try a light scan now.”
Lauren stopped and adjusted her dome just enough to have a few thoughts filtering through. The artisan cheese maker worried he was running out of samples.
Someone was very unhappy about the broccoli his mother was buying, but she couldn’t tell who. It was hard to match what her mind picked up with what her eyes could see.
Now she had him. It was the little boy in bright green Crocs. She floated lightly over to his mother’s mind and smiled. His mom had no intention of feeding him the broccoli—he’d be getting carrots for dinner instead.
Nice touch, said Jennie’s voice inside her head. Now see if you can brighten the little boy’s mood just a tiny bit. Lauren reached out a rainbow thread from her dome and gently sent a thought to the boy’s outer mind. She cheered her small victory when he turned to his mom and asked for carrots for dinner.
“Very well done, Lauren. Most students would have tried to adjust his emotions. That’s a far heavier lift, and far more invasive than planting a small thought. Same outcome, but much gentler use of power. I hadn’t planned to try that exercise until later today, but I can never resist a small boy who hates broccoli.”
Lauren considered the child, now skipping happily beside his mother. “So, that felt really good, and I imagine it could get fairly addictive. How do you know when it’s okay to intervene?”
“That’s another one of those things you’ll need to work out for yourself. Some mind witches use their powers very sparingly to shift other minds. I tend to fall toward the other