A Reckless Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,7
at the right time. Elorie’s WitchNet project was showing a lot of promise for being able to do exactly that—deliver magic exactly where it was needed.
Govin adjusted his headgear. It never sat quite right. “Could make things a lot more complicated, too.” It was a conversation they’d had about a million times in the last three months. “You’re sure you don’t want to act as liaison with them?”
TJ snorted. “You’re the witch, buddy. I’m just the math geek. I’ll predict the weather—you organize the response team.”
Team. That was a strange and scary thought. It had always been just the two of them. When you played with planetary weather systems, you needed lots of brains, lots of patience, and unconditional trust. Adding more people was going to make all of that really complicated.
It was either going to save a lot of lives, or drive him batshit crazy. Possibly both.
He sat contemplating those eventualities until TJ landed the chopper. His partner laid his headgear on the seat and waved in the general direction of the house. “Let’s check the computer readouts first—then we can come back out and do the pre-flight.” They always left the helicopter in flight-ready condition.
Govin hopped down and hurried after TJ. For a guy fueled on potato chips and beer, he could really hustle—especially when data called.
It took less than thirty seconds before the weather genius had an answer. Unfortunately, it headed toward the batshit-crazy end of the spectrum. “Gotta be aliens.” TJ slammed his hand down on the desk, causing a cascade of paper and weird desk crud. “No way this is a natural weather pattern.”
“Any theories that don’t require little green men?”
TJ snorted. “Rogue witches?”
Govin groaned. He’d walked right into that one. His old college roomie had swallowed the idea of magic and witches with ease. Unfortunately, that same mental flexibility wrapped around UFO sightings, Area 51 conspiracies, and alien spies running for the Berkeley city council. “There are only a dozen witches in the world strong enough to mess with planetary weather patterns, and none of them are anywhere near Oregon.” And none of them would play fast and loose with the weather, either. Which TJ already knew. “Just give me the data for now. What do you see?”
“The funnel formed about ten minutes before you hit it. Smaller than it should have been, and it disappeared before you did anything.”
“I threw magic at a regular storm?” Govin winced. There were a lot of ways that could end badly. “Anything we need to go back and fix?”
TJ clicked a few more keys and shook his head. “Nope. Whatever was there totally dissipated about five minutes before we got into position. You probably just warmed a few fish.”
Awesome. Mom would be so proud. “How’d it disappear?”
“No freaking clue. Aliens, witches, or unexplained phenomena—take your pick.” TJ leaned in closer to his screen. “Whatever it is, though, it’s connected to our Hawaii anomaly. That warm-water current from this morning ran right up to the same damn beach that just tried to grow a hurricane.”
Govin frowned. “The warm water caused the hurricane?”
“Nope. No relation. Just a happy locational coincidence.”
Yeah. As a mathematician, he had to acknowledge that possibility. As a witch, this was starting to smell. Witches didn’t like coincidences.
~ ~ ~
Sierra waited impatiently at the library check-in desk. She’d booked a slot for 6 p.m., and there weren’t any open terminals. She was antsy and cold—too much magic and not enough food. Her foster family’s food budget didn’t really stretch to witch portions, and they got really grumpy when she ate too much.
Sticking her hands in her pockets, she lit a couple of small fireglobes. She’d pay for the magic use later, but hungry was better than cold.
A woman stepped up beside her and grinned. “You must be Sierra. I’m Nell Walker.”
“Get out!” Sierra lowered her voice as half the library turned to look. “I didn’t know you were going to come here.” Wow, Nell totally didn’t look like what she expected. No fancy clothes, no big-shot attitude. She looked like somebody’s mom.
“It wasn’t the original plan, but I thought it might be easier to chat in person.” Nell turned and walked a little way from the library desk, clearly looking for some privacy.
Sierra motioned to the back of the library. “There are a couple of language-learning stations back there. It’s okay to talk, but they’re not very soundproof.”
Nell grinned. “We can fix that.”
They stepped inside the small room, and Sierra watched in fascination as Nell set