work with inane small talk, but she tried to roll with it.
"Check your power levels," said Jamie quietly.
She blinked - they hadn't been doing any actual magic.
"Gas tank's on low." His eyes watched her steadily.
Beth did the quick self-check that was the first lesson she taught every witch in her circle. And cursed the spluttering dregs of power that she found. To be that low after so little was embarrassing - but not noticing it was far worse. "I'm sorry. That was a beginner mistake." One that had her teeth gritting. Jamie had shown up on her doorstep bearing coffee and burritos and announced that they needed to start at the beginning. Ten years of hard work as a fire witch and apparently she wasn't yet skilled enough to try the tricks small children did with ease. The last thing she'd wanted to do was prove him right.
"You were trying something new." He seemed unconcerned by her sloppiness. "It's easy to lose track of something."
Something in his casualness grated on her nerves. "It's dangerous."
"It would be if you were working alone." His cookie stopped halfway to his mouth. "Ah. Which you usually do."
Not always. "I have a circle."
"But you're the strongest." His eyes were clear now, like he saw right through her. "You've always been the one who has to keep track of all the pieces, make sure no one in your circle is overexerting themselves."
"Of course." Keeping her circle safe was a leader's biggest priority. And they were her friends.
"And you train alone."
"Yes." She tried not to feel judged. "Liri monitors when she can, but it exhausts her." She did the best with what she had. "It would slow down my learning if I never worked alone. I'm very careful."
Jamie set down his cookie. "When we train here, we try to transfer most of those responsibilities to the trainer. It frees up your energies to be less careful. To explore the magic more, knowing someone has your back."
It was a tempting offer - and a dangerous one. "I'm only here for a short time. I don't want to pick up any habits that would be unsafe at home."
"We'd layer in the checksafes again before you go."
He was trying so hard to understand. Beth took a deep breath and tried once again to explain the reality of being an Aspie witch. "I need rituals and patterns. They help my mind to connect with the magic, but they also help me as a person to stay comfortable." Something all her circle knew and helped her with.
Here she stood alone. "New things are very difficult for me, in life and in magic. I don't do well with change."
"You came to learn. Some of that is going to be new." His words were gentle, but his eyes held the same dare that had invaded twenty months of dreams.
"I'm trying." And she was, which is how she'd almost run out of energy without noticing. "But I won't compromise on safety." Mellie might handle a small amount of backlash in a circle, but Margaret would surely crumple.
And Liri would feel the pain of each one of them.
She took a handful of granola from the green tin, trying to find more words. And gaped in surprise as the heat hit her tongue.
"New blend." Jamie grinned. "This one's got some spices that Caro said are good for fire witches. Nat said to let her know if you don't like it and she'll switch it out for something different."
Beth's heart squeezed. They were trying so hard. Which was lovely - and she really wanted to feel appreciative. "It's very good."
"But?" His eyes asked for what she hadn't said.
But three days here, and no one over the age of five seemed able to teach her anything. She tried to find a more polite way to tell him. "Maybe we could hold our next lesson when it's not time for kindergarten."
Jamie winced. "I'm not doing so well, huh?"
Ten years partnered with Liri had taught her not to agree with statements like that. "I enjoyed spending time with him." Aervyn had deft magic - and kind eyes. The ones that thought she could do anything with