with enough power for true circle work.
Mellie had enough power. Margaret, with good support - just barely, but neither of them came close to matching Beth's strength.
Beth watched newcomer Alyssa swaying gently, dressed in stamped purple velvet, hands tracing arcane patterns in the air. She looked every inch the air witch.
A far cry from Jamie Sullivan's disreputable jeans and flagrant displays of power.
Beth felt the light push on her brain that was Liriel's contribution to the circle. Mindtouch. Get back to work.
They'd have to work without air, just as they'd been doing intentionally for twenty months, and accidentally for far longer than that. Beth pushed a line of fire power across the circle to Mellie and felt the connection snap into place. Whatever Mellie's issues outside the coven, she was a reliable witch.
Liri's mind was pushing support now, mostly for Margaret.
Beth hurried to ready the spell - their weakest witch didn't have much endurance. Bringing up the map of a spell imprinted on her soul, she painstakingly began shaping the bubbles. One small, round orb. Two. Working faster now, she added a small shimmer of light to the surface of the second and reached for power to form the third.
And felt Margaret's power sputtering.
Beth squashed her frustration - circles were no place for temper tantrums either. Quickly, she tightened up her link with Melissa and let the most exhausted witch slide out of the circle. Carefully, competently, the remaining two grounded the circle's lines and swept up magical remnants. There weren't many - their work was getting cleaner.
She tried to see it as a victory. They'd made two bubbles and almost formed a third. One of their best efforts.
Jamie Sullivan had filled the room with dancing rainbow bubbles - and it had been effortless.
She looked around at the pleased, proud faces of her circle and tried to shake off her own impatient reactions, just as she'd done for months now. They'd worked to the limits of their power. That it hadn't truly tested hers wasn't their fault.
It was better - but it wasn't what she needed. And she was too scared to do anything about it.
Liriel stepped to Margaret's side, and the circle broke into celebratory, chit-chattery clumps. Beth edged toward the doorway, needing a few more minutes alone with the magic and her edgy discontent.
She walked into the front room of Witchery, seeking the comfort the little shop always brought her. Small, but profitable. Until twenty months ago, it had anchored her life in a good place - even a happy one. Security, friendship, and a place of sanctuary for one who was different.
Beth touched the titles of the books, proud of their small, but eclectic, library. Customers came to read and to talk, and always seemed to leave with a bauble or two.
She shook her head, still finding that behavior odd. When she shopped, she bought what was on the list.
A shadow settled in beside her. "You need to go." The words were quiet. It had taken Beth a long time to learn that quiet meant Liriel at her most serious.
"I know." Beth sighed and fingered the midnight-blue silk draped over their window display. Liri's work. They'd decided very early on in their business partnership that Beth didn't get to touch the merchandizing, and Liri didn't get to touch the accounting software. So far, it had worked out pretty well.
Her life partner of eleven years said nothing. Just waited, silently lining up the edges of books.
It made something in Beth's chest ache. It wasn't Liri who needed everything geometrically aligned - she did it out of love. "I'll go after winter solstice." That was the rational choice - the holidays were their busiest time of year.
"Go now." Liri did something pretty with the decks of tarot cards and then leaned over and kissed Beth's cheek. "This is the most difficult season for you, and California is full of sunshine and light."
Logic from Liri - another act of love. "I think that lamp I got is helping." The latest in scientific delivery of full-spectrum light, meant to keep a light-deprived fire witch from descending into a pit of cranky in the middle of a Chicago winter.
"It's helping you survive. That's not good enough." Her best friend and lover