A Reckless Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,5
pulled out her trump card. “But she used to play Realm when she was younger. Said she hit the third witch-only level.”
That got her brother’s attention. He grabbed his computer. “Seriously? How much younger?”
“When she was twelve, so six years ago.” They kept meticulous records of their gamers, particularly the witches and underage ones. Realm was as safe for kids as humans and magic could make it.
“I don’t see her.” Jamie typed on his keyboard a few moments longer, and then sucked in his breath. “Wait, maybe I do. I have one account that reached level three, active until six years ago. It’s not a child account, though.” He looked up, eyes wide. “Registered to Amelia Brighton. You found Amelia?”
Nell just stared, trying to connect all the crazy dots. “I don’t think so. Her name was Sierra, and she knew who I was, but not like Amelia would have. She sounded young, Jamie.”
Amelia Brighton was the wild hippy witch of the eighties. A decade older than Nell, she’d been adventurous, rebellious, and a world traveler. She’d been famous for showing up unannounced and then taking off a couple of days later, equally unannounced. Then she’d drifted further away, occasionally sending tales and emails from far-flung lands. And then about six years ago, they’d stopped hearing from her altogether.
Jamie tapped idly on his computer keys. “You think she had a kid? And nobody knew?”
“Dunno.” Nell shrugged. “But if we’re talking about Amelia, anything’s possible.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head as if trying to clear a clog. “So what do we do now?”
That much she knew the answer to. “We offer Sierra a job, and we get her down here.”
Jamie nodded. “Okay. I could use some extra help with all the WitchNet work. Elorie’s got us hopping.”
“It’s a smart idea she has, hooking other witch projects in so everyone can coordinate.”
Jamie grinned. “Yup. And she might just pull it off, too. But my nine-year-old staff could use some assistance—herding witches isn’t easy. Sierra could help with that. It sounds like she’s got some coding skills.”
“They might be a little rusty after six years out of the game.”
He shrugged. “Then we’ll find something else for her to do.”
She’d known her brother would come through. “Thanks. I owe you one.”
“No big. We take care of our own.” He grinned, eyes sparkling. “But if you want to be in my debt, you can go grab Matt and Devin at the airport tomorrow.”
She was pretty sure that had been on her job list anyhow. Her brothers were coming home for the long and rowdy family celebration that ran between Winter Solstice and the New Year. The terrible threesome would ride again. “They’re cutting it kind of close. Nat could pop any minute.”
He shrugged. “She says not yet. And maybe our baby’s not going to need a big circle—she’s not playing with power much these days.”
“You’ll have a huge circle just because no one wants to miss it.” Nell grinned. “Besides, it’s usually the dads who need the most help.”
She caught the pillow just before it beaned her in the head. Some things never changed.
~ ~ ~
The power flows were practically crackling, just waiting for her to shape them. Sierra stood on a small outcropping north of the Heceta Head lighthouse, well out of view of normal tourist trails, and reached for more.
It was time for a storm.
Patience had never been something she was any good at, and waiting for Nell Walker to maybe offer her a job was driving her crazy. The last six years had taught her a lot about living in a life that sucked. She’d learned to turn to the storms for comfort.
Magic was her birthright, her destiny, and her way of kicking a big hole through the crap of foster care and caseworkers and people who didn’t truly care about Sierra Brighton.
She reached her fingers to the sky, feeling the storm that was already brewing. It wasn’t hard to find one on the Oregon Coast in winter. She just planned to make it a little bigger.
“I call on Air, warm and light
Rise, a sheet of narrow flight.
I call on Water, dewdrops cold
Catch a ride, with friends of old.
I call on Fire, give heat to rise
Energies three, toward the skies.
Lift a storm up from the sea,
As I will, so mote it be.”
Her heart soared as wind and water raged, lifting a current of warm, wet air into the waiting storm above. Power kicked and drove heat into the clouds of ice and snow. Sierra