wee visit sometime."
"Plane tickets to Nova Scotia are very expensive." Beth took down a small tin and poured some sort of cereal mix into two bowls. "But I'm always looking for something new to read. Maybe we could plan a trip for next summer." Her whole face softened. "Liri would love to travel."
The girl loved as well. There was much to like here. "You'd both be most welcome." Moira stirred the tea, musing. "And if you find yourself wanting to try the transport spells again, the cost of the ride isn't quite so dear." She didn't miss the shudder from her companion. "I've gotten used to the infernal things, but I must admit, I found them entirely awful the first few times."
"I understand they have a very high safety rate." Beth wrapped her arms around her ribs. "But ..."
Ah, now they were getting somewhere. "But what, child?"
"I worked four years, reading and learning and practicing." The words came steadily now, almost a chant. "Over and over, every evening for hours." Beth's hands moved, lining up packets of sugar in a neat row. "Four years, and I made a flame. A tiny little thing that barely managed to light my candle."
Moira's heart hurt - so much desire here, and so little knowledge. "You worked hard. You must have been proud." Tenacity was a good trait in a witch, and one that would serve her well as she got more training.
"I was," said Beth quietly. "I was so proud of my tiny flame that I nearly blew it out in my excitement." She looked up. "In my life, lighting a candle is difficult magic. I'm considered an adept in my coven. I don't know how to accept a world where transport spells are used for casual visits. It shouldn't be possible."
Moira studied the lined-up sugar packets and felt her sympathies stirring yet again.
"I'm sorry." Beth slid the packets into a pile. "I organize things when I'm nervous."
"Don't apologize." The spicy rooibos was nearly ready. "I make tea when I need calming."
It took a moment, but the smile that slid onto Beth's face was worth waiting for.
Moira reached out a hand. "Come, my dear. Let's sit at the table and I'll tell you a story of long ago, when a headstrong Irish lass arrived on the shores of Nova Scotia."
She murmured a wee stitch of power as she began to weave the tale, an old bard's charm to let the words fall on open ears. It would rock Beth when she discovered how much of that impossible magic was hers to command. Perhaps a story of loneliness and belonging would help ease the way.
If nothing else, it would help Moira to remember. And it was usually easier to walk alongside someone when you remembered the journey.
Chapter 10
Jamie pulled open the door, hoping he could manage not to be a giant doofus today. And gaped at the enormous metallic butterfly floating in his doorway, every color of the rainbow and supremely glittery. A tiny girl's dream balloon.
He looked down. Yup, those were Beth's shoes. "Hey. Looks like you came bearing gifts - is that for me?"
He was rewarded by a chuckle. Almost. It cut off mid-laugh, followed by red cheeks coming around a bright wing. "I'm sorry. I brought a gift for Kenna and one for Nat, but I didn't bring you anything."
The deflated sound of her voice broke his heart. "You brought a butterfly that will delight my daughter for a week. Consider me thoroughly gifted."
"You're very kind." Beth smiled, but her eyes were still bleak.
Dammit, he was not going down that road again. "My mother would assure you that I did so many terrible things in my youth that I don't deserve any presents until I'm at least sixty-two." He tugged on the balloon string, pulling her into the house. "If you want, I can pull your pigtails later to make up for it."
"I don't have..." One hand stopped on the way to her hair, followed by a giggle that clearly surprised her more than it did him. "You're teasing me."
"Yup." Please don't let it backfire. "It's pretty much the only way I know how