A Nomadic Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 4) Read online

  That was more than nicely done, especially by a witch of Kevin’s power. “Making the most of your talents, are you?”

  “I like to practice.” Kevin flushed again. “Sean says it’s stupid.”

  Sean had twice the power and half the control. “Your brother will eventually discover the virtues of practice.” Maybe. “In the meantime, it appears you’ve learned the practical uses of magical affinities.” The boy had nicely used the similarities of air and water flows to blend his storm.

  “You saw.” Kevin beamed with quiet pride.

  “I’m not blind, youngling.” Marcus nodded in thanks as the guard returned with a tray of food and left. “Water and air have the closest magical affinity. The pattern of their energies is similar, and easy enough to combine.”

  He picked up a sandwich and glanced at the boy. “Bet you can’t do the same trick with fire and air.” Fire was fickle, a tricky magic that didn’t like combining with anything.

  “I’m close.” Kevin grinned. “But Elorie says if I practice in her house again before I’m fifty, she’s gonna borrow Aunt Moira’s cauldron.”

  It was good to know the boy wasn’t entirely lacking the mischief gene. Marcus pushed over the tray. “Have a sandwich, for pity’s sake—I don’t bite. And I can’t help you with fire affinities.” Fire had been Evan’s magic.

  “I was wondering.” Kevin reached for food, but his mind was hesitant—witch treading with extreme care. “Air and water magics have the tightest affinity that we know of.”

  Marcus wasn’t sure he liked the last four words of that sentence. “There are others, but you’re right—none are as strong.” And if this was going to turn into a lesson on storm magic, he was going to need a change of clothes.

  “How do we know?” The gears turned quickly now in Kevin’s head. “We thought mind magic didn’t really look like anything else, but it kind of works like Net power.”

  The boy had a point. Vastly different results, but both activated from a web of tiny power channels, rather than a single focus. “Perhaps. An affinity of origin, rather than output.” Interesting idea, and once he’d had some sleep, one he might spend some time considering.

  Except Kevin wasn’t done. “Exactly. So what if that wasn’t the only affinity we didn’t know about?”

  The clenched feeling was back in Marcus’s gut. “You think we’ve missed another one.” It wasn’t a question—the boy’s mind was springing leaks faster than his cottage’s roof in last month’s freak hailstorm.

  “Yeah.” Kevin nodded quietly, fingers absently running up and down the spine of some dusty book. “Morgan’s happy here in Realm, right? And she doesn’t travel when she’s here.”

  Marcus stared, his brain racing to piece together Kevin’s clues. Realm ran on Net power. Morgan traveled. His mind froze as the right neurons finally connected.

  It was Kevin, however, who was brave enough to say the words. “Maybe Net power and astral travel are magical affinities.”

  The earth tilted on its axis. “Nothing’s like astral travel.” Marcus muttered, mostly to himself. “That’s why it takes an entire circle to call a traveler back. Hard to get the magics to integrate.” So blindingly, impossibly hard. Like calling flames from the ocean.

  The light in Kevin’s eyes was fierce. “Maybe we’ve been using the wrong magics.”

  Marcus was already there. The best way to fight magic was with its closest affinity. He jumped to his feet, sending Kevin’s half-eaten sandwich soaring. More strange dots. A whole, connect-the-dots swarm of them.

  He needed his brain trust again.

  Chapter 20

  Marcus settled Morgan down on her blanket next to a patch of the blue flowers she liked so damn much. Girls.

  Daniel appeared beside him, Kenna yammering away on his hip. “Excellent. Someone to distract this little punk.”

  “Pulled uncle duty, did you?” Marcus handed over a beer. A real one. Not technically Realm legal, but he didn’t expect the owner to protest too much—he’d imported half a dozen. Another way to thumb his nose at fear.

  “Just transport.” Daniel settled Kenna down and grinned as she butt-scooted over to Morgan. “Jamie and Aervyn are broom flying over the south tower. They’ll be here as soon as he can talk my son down from the sky.”

  Only a damn fool taught a five-year-old how to fly a broomstick. Morgan wasn’t ever getting on anything faster than a turtle.

  “Good luck with that,” said Jamie wryly, arriving with Aervyn on his shoulders. “And you might want to save Morgan before Kenna feeds her any more flowers.”

  Marcus turned, just in time to see Daniel disarm his troublesome niece. The man was fast.

  “Keeping me on my toes, are you, munchkin?” Daniel swung her around in the sky, laughing as she shot off fireworks in all directions. “No burning my eyebrows, kiddo, or I’ll sell you at the market.”

  “He won’t.” Aervyn plunked down in Marcus’s lap, grinning. “He tries to sell me lots, but Mama says witchlings don’t fetch a very good price.”

  Jamie ported his daughter into his own arms, which ratcheted up the squeal volume several decibels. “Thanks, Daniel. Nat’s currently sleeping with some of Ginia’s goo on her face. She’s offered to name our second child after you.” He tossed his daughter into the air. “Presuming this one ever gives us time to procure her a sibling.”

  “What’s ‘procure’ mean?” Aervyn looked up at Marcus, cookie crumb mustache fairly well established. “Is he gonna try to buy a baby at the market?”

  That was the kind of question Marcus had no intentions of answering. Ever. He ignored the male snickers behind his head. “I have no earthly idea.”

  Aervyn crunched into another cookie. “He should talk to Mama about that.”

  “Here.” Daniel peeled the lid off a container of raw vegetables. “Mama says we need to eat more of these, and a few less cookies.”

  Aervyn looked at a carrot stick with suspicion.

  Jamie picked one up and crunched. “How about carrots and cookies, superdude?”

  Kevin reached dutifully for a veggie stick. “Is this what you guys do at your secret meetings? Drink beer and eat carrots?”

  “Mostly.” Jamie produced a soda from somewhere. “Until someone smart like you gives us something more complicated to think about.”

  Marcus watched the glances exchanged over young heads—the brain trust wasn’t as relaxed as it looked. Good—his head was practically exploding with the implications of Kevin’s latest theory.

  Daniel looked at his phone. “Mike’s coming. Aaron’s got cranky twins on his hands, so he says to talk hocus-pocus without him.”

  Mike’s large head showed up over the horizon. Close enough. Marcus prepared to draw the meeting to order, and then realized Jamie was watching his daughter, distracted.

  Kenna stared, intent, at totally empty air—and then giggled like an octopus had attacked her ribs. She held up her arms, blew bubbles, and cooed.

  Jamie grinned, still puzzled. “That’s Kenna-speak for do it again.”

  Three grown men and a boy scholar watched as the same thing repeated itself two more times.

  And then, very carefully, Kenna put her hands over her eyes—apparently not an easy feat at her young age. Marcus winced as she nearly poked an eye out. Mission accomplished, Kenna flung her hands out wide, and giggled so hard she fell over.

  Daniel chuckled as he tipped her back upright. “I swear it looks like peek-a-boo.”

  Kevin grinned. “We have a Realm ghost.”

  With fifty half-trained coders on the loose, it was a wonder they didn’t have a dozen. Marcus wondered idly if the ghost could be convinced to come entertain at the castle nursery.

  Aervyn looked up from his Legos. “Can you see the ghost too, Kevin?”

  Marcus intercepted the Lego rocket right before it made a lunar crash landing on Morgan’s belly. “I think ghosts are invisible.”

  “Nuh, uh.” Aervyn set his rocket up for b
last-off number two. “You just have to use your magic eyes to look instead of your real ones.”

  He now had the rapt attention of every adult on the picnic blanket. Marcus glanced at Jamie and then magically scanned the air in front of Kenna, damn sure her father was doing the same thing.

  Nothing. Jamie frowned and shook his head.

  Daniel, brain moving faster than the average witch, leaned over and put his hand on the rocket, temporarily disrupting launch. “You can see a magical ghost? Playing with Kenna right now?”

  “Yup.” Aervyn grinned. “Wanna see? You don’t have magic eyes, but I can show you.”

  Jamie laid a hand on his trainee’s shoulder. “Show me too, superdude.”

  “‘Kay.” Aervyn muttered a quick spell under his breath and started making rocket launch sounds. Daniel moved his hand.

  Marcus felt the quick click of incoming mindlink. Apparently he rated a look at the ghost too. For a moment, the world looked distinctly weird—and then it refocused, back to normal. All except the web of energy dancing in front of Kenna.

  Marcus had no idea which one of them slammed walls down around the child first—but neither baby nor ghost was very happy about it. Power danced against the circle’s edge from both sides.

  And then the outer lights vanished.

  Any idea what that was? Jamie’s mindvoice was as tense as Marcus had ever heard it.

  It’s the ghost. Aervyn sounded distressed. Don’t be mean next time—you’ll make it sad. It’s been playing with the babies for days now.

  Marcus felt some important organ in his gut tie itself into knots. Babies? It plays with more than Kenna?

  Uh, huh. I think it likes Morgan best, though. Aervyn paused, thinking. It went swimming with me in the lagoon once.

  Marcus grabbed his baby girl and tried to find the off switch for his overreact button. “It’s gone now, right?”

  Aervyn nodded sadly. “You scared it away.”

  It was Kevin who broke the stunned silence. “I don’t think it’s just any ghost.” He took a deep breath. “I think it was Evan.”

  Denial ripped through Marcus’s head—and shattered against the certainty of his heart. His brother had always loved babies. And swimming.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jamie looked at the crowd gathered in the castle dining hall. On most days, it would be a party.

  Today, it was an unsteady, unfocused mob—when they needed a council of war.

  Elorie walked up to his shoulder. “Rumors are flying thick and fast. What’s going on?”

  He wasn’t sure anymore. “I’m pretty sure I only have parts of the story.” They were blind witches trying to describe the proverbial elephant.

  She looked around the hall. Uneasy conversation buzzed, and the room practically crackled with energy looking for somewhere to go. “Someone needs to run the show—we’re never going to figure anything out like this.”

  It was hard to disagree, but their resident general sat in a corner, brain stunned and eyes bleak. Not that Jamie could blame him—he’d literally just seen a ghost. “You’re pretty good at herding witches.”

  She snorted. “More than pretty good.”

  But it wasn’t hers to do—he could feel that as well as she did. Jamie sighed. Realm was his, even if his insides felt like they’d traveled through a whale already today. He pushed off the wall. One battlefield general, coming up.

  “Wait.” Elorie grabbed his arm, intent on a stir moving through the crowd.

  Jamie watched in astonishment as a quiet librarian walked to the front of the hall. And felt pride beaming from the mind of the woman standing beside him.

  It seemed that a new general had arrived.

  The hall quieted as Kevin climbed onto one end of the big table. He surveyed the room, books clutched to his chest, glasses crooked on his nose like they always were. The look he shot Marcus was pure nerves.

  But when he spoke, his words were calm and sure—and pulled the eyes of every person in the hall. “We have a mystery. And if we want to solve it, we have to get way more organized than this.”

  Elorie chuckled quietly. “That’s my witch.”

  “We’re witches.” Kevin looked around the hall. “Well, some of us are. Witches have been trying to keep astral travelers safe for thousands of years.” He held up the books in his hand. “And after all that time, we still don’t know how to do it.”

  He gulped. “Witches still die—and that’s not good enough.”

  Jamie looked over at his baby girl, safe in Nat’s arms, and agreed with every cell of his being.

  “We have to be smarter.” Kevin held up his book again. “I found something today. And we saw a ghost.” He waved down the murmurs in the room. “But there’s more. Ginia has some weird lines of code.”

  Warrior Girl nodded as everyone turned her way.

  Damn. Jamie kicked himself—he’d totally forgotten about that.

  “There’s more.” Kevin’s voice was implacable. “When Morgan came to Fisher’s Cove, she had magic on her, but nobody knew what it was.” He looked over at Elorie. “Net magic, but not quite.”

  Jamie could feel confusion circling as minds tried to connect the dots.

  Kevin gulped a breath. “I think everyone in this room might know something that will help. We have to be scientists. We have to put our data together and see what comes out.”

  It was exactly the right battle call for a room full of geeks. Ten people at once started to offer their contributions—and for the first time, Kevin seemed to realize he was standing on a table in front of a hundred people.

  Elorie grinned. “Now it’s my turn.”

  She stepped forward, looking at Kevin with pride as she did. “Let’s organize ourselves, folks. I need some of you to volunteer to go around the room and collect all the data. We’ll put it into one place that everyone can look at.” She glanced hopefully at Daniel, who grinned and started tapping on his tablet.

  And then looked out at the room, wordless command in her eyes.

  Jamie watched in awe as a coordinated dance of movement broke out in the hall. Damn—she was good.

  ~ ~ ~

  Nell sat in silence, watching her husband work the dining hall. No one connected the dots better than Daniel Walker—and every coder in Realm was tripping over themselves to be helpful.

  She also watched Kevin, glued to her husband’s side.

  Sophie, tucked in the same corner, followed her gaze. “Looks like The Hacker has taken on an apprentice.”

  Nell grinned. “Be ready for some turbulent teenage years, then.” Her husband had not always been a pillar of virtue and light.

  “Kevin could use a little encouragement in that direction.” Sophie sighed. “He suffers from being the responsible twin.”

  They watched the quiet librarian walking in The Hacker’s shadow, taking notes. Nell was fairly certain her husband wouldn’t let him stay there. He was the best man in the universe at helping a child to shine.

  ~ ~ ~

  Marcus sat in the Witches’ Lounge and stared at a plate of cookies.

  He wasn’t hungry.

  They awaited the arrival of Daniel and Kevin, data collectors extraordinaire.

  Marcus was terribly afraid he didn’t need them. The dots were connecting all too well.

  Morgan had arrived bathed in strange magic—but it was Elorie who had been able to see the spell lines best. Close to Net power—but not quite. Affinities. Dot.

  Babies and ghosts and visitors in gold lamé. Marcus was no stranger to big magic—and all of those spells, regardless of how they’d been done, needed a circle—or a spellcaster in his prime. Dot.

  Soldiers under the steps and teasing voices in his head. Perhaps simply random chance and fraudulent dreams. Or not. Dot.

  He watched as the others filed in, helping themselves to cookies and quiet conversation.

  He listened, in a surreal bubble, as Kevin carefully recited the facts they’d discovered. As minds and voices work
ed together to connect the dots. He let them say their pieces—it only confirmed what he already knew.

  Dots and lines. Without Kevin’s quiet bravery, he’d never have found the courage to look.

  Mists that were dangerous, but not evil. Dot.

  And a ghost that amused small girls with purple eyes. The last of the lines connected. Marcus shuddered. He looked down at the beautiful, warm, live girl sleeping on his chest. And then he looked up at the room, bubble gone. “I need to go to the mists.”

  Conversations stopped in mid-sentence. Moira turned gray.

  He avoided her eyes, seeking those of the boy who had taught him of courage. “I need to find my brother and collect more data.” He nodded at Kevin. “Of all of us, you’ve been the one least afraid to look—and you’ve found the most answers because of it.”

  “We know a lot.” Kevin looked down at Morgan’s dreaming face, and then up at Marcus, eyes pleading. “Maybe we know enough.”

  Marcus felt the terror behind his words. And the love. He tugged the unresisting boy in for a hug. “We might.” His eyes circled around the room, and finished with his aunt. “But I can’t take that chance.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Sophie held her husband’s hand. Their part of this circle would be easy. Roots and rocks. It was Elorie, currently sitting with tiny Aislin in her arms, who would stand in harm’s way.

  And Elorie who was fiercely arguing for that right. She glared at Jamie. “I’m the strongest Net witch we have. You can code anything you want between now and morning, but if Uncle Marcus is wandering off into the mists, I’m damn well going to be the one holding the rope.”

  “We can put Net witches in each trio, manage magical affinity that way.” Jamie drew lines in the air as he talked, a witch diplomat at the end of his tether. “There’s no reason for you to take all the risk.”

  “There is,” said Elorie softly. “We don’t have four Net witches of decent power over the age of twelve.”

  She didn’t have to say anything more. Dissent in the room vanished. No one wanted witchlings anywhere near this circle.

  Sophie closed her eyes, hiding tears. She didn’t want the sister of her heart anywhere near it either.