it was there. Guardian and protector, center of the circle and its heart.
Moira sat down on a swing and held Nell softly in her thoughts. A blessing on you, daughter. May the light come to help you find your way.
She set the swing to moving gently, talking to the flowers at her feet. "It's so much easier for those of us who are weak, my sweet rooted friends. We know what it is to not feel brave or strong." When a warrior found cracks in her own heart, it was a fearsome thing.
And a necessary one, even if the warrior hadn't looked clearly yet. It was guilt and blame that still coated Nell Walker's soul - and they were hiding the truth.
Nell had been very quiet at dinner. Perhaps the light was coming.
Moira bent her head, acknowledging the dark. And trusted that the circle would begin anew, just as it always had.
Chapter 18
Lauren grinned and snuck a green block into the middle of Jacob's intricate pattern. He giggled and pushed it back out.
Making airplane noises, she zoomed it around his head and dropped it back in the pattern. No giggle this time, just a quick shove out of the way.
Slowly, she picked it up again, watching for any signs that she'd leaned on his growing flexibility hard enough. He tracked her hand, but otherwise made no protest. Still moving slowly, she leaned over and tucked the block up his pant leg.
New game. And for Jacob, new was often still scary.
He looked down at the half-covered block for a while, thinking. Processing.
And then he picked up a red block and put it on her knee.
"You're so silly." She chuckled, making sure her face stayed in play mode. No need for Jacob to know her brain was trumpeting Ode to Joy.
Some of us can hear you singing all the way in the parking lot.
Lauren's head shot up as Nell walked in the door of the Center. Hey. What are you doing here?
Nell picked her way slowly through the jumble of train tracks, pillows, and building blocks - therapy sessions with Jacob were never neat. It was time.
The morning suddenly felt like one of those that required another cup of coffee. Then again, she'd already had two. Jacob was a serious early bird. Lauren leaned over and kissed his head - victory was always a good place to stop. And he liked to play alone with the toys for a few minutes before he left.
"Something went right?" Nell propped her elbows on a small bookcase.
This didn't feel like small talk. "Yes. He finds new things difficult, so one of the goals of his therapy is to work on that. Some of the fear comes from not knowing what to do, so we want to build memories where he's successful when something new happens. Today I tossed in something different while we were playing - just a small variation in a game with his blocks. Three months ago he would have thrown a block at me."
Nell grinned. "Sounds like Kenna."
Pretty much everyone at Witch Central had been ducking ever since a certain silly uncle had taught his youngest niece how to throw. Daniel was still unreasonably proud of her aim. "Fortunately, Jacob's a little less temperamental."
"He didn't throw stuff this time, huh? You seemed awfully happy."
She'd learned to take victory in small steps, but today's had been pretty major. Lauren told Nell the story of the blocks. "The goal right now is to have him tolerate change. It's a pretty big deal when he actively wants to play the new game."
"It's like when my kids were little." Nell watched the small blond boy intently now. "I used to sing to them all day long. And then Daniel would walk in and make up a silly new verse to the song, and he'd get all the giggles."
Lauren was pretty sure she'd never heard Nell's husband sing. "Most kids are wired to seek out novelty - it's how they learn."
They watched as Jacob pulled over another bin of blocks. More fodder for his patterns. Nell's mind shrouded in sadness. "But not him."
"Not always. He has a lot of challenges that make it hard to embrace something new." And they weren't