A Reckless Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,21
could only impact very local weather. The few with more power than that had to be extremely careful. A butterfly flapping its wings in Berkeley might not really be able to create a hurricane in the Gulf—but a witch with enough power could. Govin had thought he was aware of everyone who had that kind of talent. He made it his mission in life to find them.
“You’re the best one to test her.” Jamie nodded at Govin, distracted by a plate of cookies landing on the table. “Do you want help?”
Govin shook his head, ignoring the cookies for a moment. “It’s not the testing that concerns me. It’s figuring out what to do if she does have that kind of power.”
Sophie frowned. “I feel like I’m still missing something. It sounds like she has excellent control, so her training must be pretty solid, no? Wouldn’t another strong weather witch be an asset?”
Govin looked down at his hands for a minute. “Yes. She’s a skilled witch, likely just reaching the peak of her power.” The rest was pure conjecture, which didn’t sit well with his data-based mind—but it was really bothering him. “And she didn’t ground.”
Jamie looked blank. “Didn’t ground what?”
“Her power streams. She played Hot Potato with no grounding.”
Now he had everyone’s full attention. There were basic precautions every witch with decent power learned—and one of those was running a groundline to deal with power flashes and kickbacks. It was as automatic as breathing.
Nell tapped her fingers on the arm of the couch. “To play devil’s advocate for a minute, it’s possible she just wasn’t grounding for Hot Potato. It was tricky magic, but the power flows weren’t big enough to require a ground.” She looked at Govin. “But that’s not what you think.”
He shrugged. “I’m a pretty cautious guy, so this might just be my inner scaredy-witch talking.”
She scowled at him. “No one gets to call you that but me. You’re right—every witch I know with any decent power grounds every time they do magic.”
Jamie nodded. “That’s how we teach it, so it’s habit.” He paused. “Maybe Sierra wasn’t taught the same way—maybe she only grounds when it’s really necessary.”
“Maybe.” But that wasn’t the possibility that had put the lead weight in Govin’s stomach. “And maybe she was never trained to ground.”
He turned to Moira, who was looking pale. “I assume you taught Amelia the way you teach every witch.”
“We did.” She nodded slowly. “But she got hit with power backlash at least twice that I know of. We never could get a good read on whether it was accidental or intentional, but she didn’t take magical safety nearly seriously enough. Whether she’d have been foolhardy enough to skip that step teaching her child, I can’t say.”
Sophie rubbed her belly, eyes deeply concerned. “So we’re saying it’s possible that Sierra was trained to do magic without the proper safeguards in place—and she might have enough power to mess with planetary weather?”
Govin shrugged helplessly as the worry levels in the room went up substantially. “I hope not, but I think we’d better find out quickly.” He had a very bad feeling about this.
~ ~ ~
Sierra stared at the ceiling, disoriented and cranky, as she blinked awake from her nap.
She was always cranky when she hadn’t had enough to eat. Should have eaten the brownie instead of making a big mess in Nell’s house.
Not that Nell’s home was anything like she’d expected. Momma’s stories had made it sound like Nell was a rich movie-star witch. Ha. She was a mom with five kids, a messy living room, and socks that didn’t match.
Movie stars didn’t even wear socks.
She froze as the door squeaked open. “See, she’s awake. I told you.”
Aervyn. Well, he wasn’t a movie star, but he was kind of cute. She sat up—and discovered her witchling visitor wasn’t alone.
“Hi, I’m Lauren.” The stranger smiled and held up a tray. “We got sent to see if you were hungry.”
Aervyn scrambled up the ladder and plopped himself at Sierra’s feet. Then he waved his fingers, and the tray in Lauren’s hands vanished and reappeared on the bed.
Wow. “You can really teleport?” Porting had been in Momma’s stories too.
Lauren grinned. “Just be glad he ported the food up, instead of you down.” She put a hand on the ladder. “Okay if I come up?”
He could port people? Sierra stared at Aervyn, wide-eyed—then realized she was being totally rude. She looked back over at Lauren, apology in her eyes. “Sure—sorry. Come on up.”
“No worries.