Witches in flight, p.10
Witches in Flight, page 10
Lizard almost walked away. Almost. But that damned gratitude was leaking from Elsie’s mind again—and the quiet message that friendship ran both ways. Frack. She stepped forward and tried to stuff Elsie’s feet in the general direction of her hips. And realized those eight inches were going to be a bit of a problem. No way could she reach Elsie’s outstretched hands from here.
Nat was at her side guiding before she managed to yell for help. “Remember flying like a jet airplane when you were a kid? Same thing here. Hop up gently to help Elsie lift you, and keep your arms out wide.”
Oh, hell. This was so going to end badly.
I’m two feet away and I can teleport. No one’s gonna get bloody.
Well, at least Jamie’s offer was practical. Lizard decided the fastest way out of this mess was to take a hop and try not to land on the pregnant woman.
The last thing she expected was for it to work.
Or to find herself staring down at Elsie’s grinning face as she gently swayed on the two surprisingly solid legs holding her up in the air.
“Breathe,” said Nat’s amused voice in her ear.
Lizard saved breathing until her feet hit the ground again. And then she closed her eyes, sending thanks to the patron saint of crazy yoga people. Hopefully it was time for the lie-on-your-back-and-pretend-you’re-dead part of class now.
Elsie rolled up from the mat and put a hand on her shoulder. “Your turn. I shouldn’t have any problem reaching your hands, so it will be easier this time.”
Lizard blinked. Uh, no way. Small people learned early in life not to end up on the bottom of the pile. They sure as hell didn’t volunteer for it. Jamie had flown Nat, not the other way around.
Don’t say that out loud, sent a quietly chuckling Jamie. I don’t want her to forget she’s pregnant and try to show you.
She flies you? Yoga people really were crazy—Jamie had to outweigh his wife by about a hundred pounds. Nat must have legs of steel.
She does, he said, glancing at his wife’s legs with appreciation. But that’s not what this takes. It’s all about trust.
Trust was a new-age-bullshit word that would do exactly nothing to keep 150 pounds of Elsie in the air.
Jamie stretched into downward dog. The only person here who doesn’t think you can do this is you.
She knew a dare when she heard one. Double freaking hell. Lizard turned back to her roommate, patiently waiting on the edge of the mat. “If you land on top of me and break my ribs, I’m making you drink the green goo Ginia sends us.”
Elsie’s lips only twitched a little. “Then you probably don’t want to drop me.”
Like it was going to be on purpose. Lizard got down on her mat and stuck her legs in the air, waiting for the ton of bricks to land. And felt Elsie smoothly glide up with only the lightest touch on her fingers.
Legs of steel, sent Jamie. Way to go.
Lizard was pretty sure her grin was as dopey as Elsie’s had been. And it stayed that way, even as her roommate let go and swept up her arms toward the sky in a credible imitation of Nat’s advanced pose demonstration.
She was balancing a human pretzel on her feet. And it somehow didn’t feel totally weird.
~ ~ ~
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To: veronica.liantro@witchlight.org
From: Jennie Adams
Subject: Nothing for me to do.
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Dear Vero,
It appears that my job as WitchLight guide has turned into one of watching and applauding from the sidelines.
Lizard and Elsie are well underway now, and I believe they begin to see glimmers of their destinations. It amuses me to guess what those will be and the interesting turns they’ll take on the way there. But I realize I’m no longer much afraid that they won’t arrive.
They have a lot of help, inside and out. Both are finding their own inner compasses—the needs and fires that will keep them putting one foot in front of the other, or flapping their wings, whichever is needed. And they have a delightful partner in each other. The lovely symbolism of them flying each other in yoga class today wasn’t lost on anyone watching.
Fewer people applauded the crafty Nat who set up the exercise in the first place, but her husband always notices these things. And reports them, or I’d just be puttering along in happy ignorance.
There are a lot of people who love Lizard and Elsie—and love is a potent wind under newly extended wings. It occurs to me that I may be out of a job soon—and I can’t seem to escape the eerie sense that Melvin is laughing at me when I say such things.
All my love,
Jennie
~ ~ ~
Elsie put the last skein of silky Malabrigo up on the shelf. It was hard to let go—the glorious blend of merino wool and silk was like candy for her fingers. Helping with Caro’s summer inventory was every kind of temptation. She looked over at Helga, who was neatly re-stacking sock yarn into cubbies. “Is this Caro’s secret plan to make us buy every yarn in the store?”
Helga chortled. “Some of us don’t need any help doing that. In twenty years, I’m pretty sure there isn’t a thing in here that hasn’t been on my needles.”
Caro looked up from the front desk. “You were one of my very first customers. Bought a ball of my own orange handspun.”
“And I still can’t resist your handspun.” Helga turned and swept up a new armful of colorful skeins. “You don’t make nearly enough of it anymore, and you don’t hide it well enough when you do.”
“She’s supposed to sell it.” Marion climbed down from a low stool on the other side of the store. She was inventorying the cottons. “And I know you raid her behind-the-counter stash all the time. Snuck the last ball of red out from under my fingers last week, you did.”
Elsie grinned at Helga’s look of bruised innocence. In this particular case, Helga actually wasn’t to blame. “That was me. I know a four-year-old whose head just grew out of his favorite hat.” And she’d been entirely unable to resist the way Aervyn’s eyes had lit up when he’d spotted the fire-engine-red yarn she’d pilfered from behind Caro’s counter.
Marion’s glare was in mock protest. Mostly. “I thought we didn’t let beginners at the really good stuff.”
Caro snorted, still writing busily in her ledger book. “Anyone who can learn your crazy-cable pattern isn’t a beginner anymore.”
Elsie felt warm licks of pride sneaking onto her cheeks. It had taken her two days to master those cables, with three of the best teachers in town coaching over her shoulders. “You’ve taught me well. And I’m going to do a really simple hat with the handspun.”
“Good.” Marion nodded in approval. “The more gorgeous the yarn, the simpler the pattern should be.”
“Marion’s fifth rule of knitting.” Helga spoke in a stage whisper clearly intended to be heard on the other side of the store. “She’s got a lot of rules, that one. I’m more the loose and freewheeling type, myself.”
Elsie giggled as a twenty-year-old conversation reared its head yet again.
“Some beginners need rules,” said Caro calmly. “Some need inspiration and encouragement to go a little wild.”
Some needed both. Elsie fingered the yarn in the next cubby, realizing just how fine a teaching team Helga and Marion made. One that had obviously had a lot of practice. “How many beginners come in here?”
“More every year.” Caro flashed a rare grin. “These two are my best advertising. Remember that poor woman who wandered in last year thinking this was the wine store?”
Helga winked at Elsie. “She left a little yarn drunk.”
That wasn’t at all hard to imagine. Elsie regretfully stacked the last skein of silky Malabrigo on the shelf, giving it an extra pat. She’d be back.
Right now, however, something intrigued her more than yarn. “How did you get started? With the teaching and the shop, I mean?”
She looked up to see three sets of eyes, full of sharp interest. Elsie blushed. “I’ve been thinking about my purpose in life. You all seem to have found yours, and I’m interested in how that happened. How did you know it was right?”
Marion shrugged. “There were people who needed teaching, and we were here.”
Elsie hid a grin. That fit the matter-of-fact Marion down to her toes. There was a need, and she had filled it. Simple as that.
“Had too much yarn.” Caro shifted her ledger aside. “When my stash grew out of my second bedroom, it was either time to buy a bigger house, or start a shop. The shop was cheaper.”
The words were still matter-of-fact, but Elsie could hear the echoes behind them. Love ran deep in Caro—for people, for yarn, for art. The shop had given her an outlet for all three.
You see well. Caro’s mindvoice held approval. Can’t count, though—you’ve inventoried that orange Malabrigo twice.
Elsie sighed. It was hard to do a job properly when the yarn was so pretty and distracting. Not to mention her company. She’d recount the Malabrigo, but first she wanted the last answer to her question. She cast an eye toward Helga. “And you? Why do you teach?”
“For joy.” Helga’s smile was uncharacteristically soft. “There are moments in our lives when we open—when our eyes and hearts see a little more clearly and our souls float a little closer to the surface.” She reached over for Elsie’s hand. “Those who teach get to see them more often.”
For need. For love. For joy.
Elsie tucked the words away in her heart. She didn’t know yet where they led. But she would.
~ ~ ~
Jamie walked into the Headbeater Cafe, amused. He spied Josh at the coffee bar. “Fascinating choice of venue. Trying to send me a message?”
Josh grinned. “Jennie invited me here a while back to give me the Witch Central once-over. It seemed kind of karmic to come back.”
He hadn’t known about that particular visit. Not that it surprised him—Aunt Jennie was a champion meddler. “Witches are kind of a nosy lot.”
“You take care of your own.” Josh stirred his coffee, eyes suddenly serious. “And Lizard’s one of your own now, isn’t she.” It wasn’t a question.
Jamie knew that look. He saw it in his wife’s eyes all the time. He’d be lucky to keep up with this conversation. “Yeah. Not every witch ends up on our radar, but once they do, there’s lots of opportunity to belong.” Witch Central might have its warts, but they didn’t lack in welcome—something Josh was likely to figure out in a mighty way fairly soon.
“So, this mind-power stuff…” Josh turned on his stool, getting down to business. “Can it be used to hurt her?”
Jamie blinked—and then gave the guy serious props for both guts and clear thinking. “To control her or anything like that? No. The biggest hazard to a mind witch is information overload, particularly before they get well trained.” He was walking a dicey line here, but Josh deserved some answers. “Lizard was in good hands when she came in to her power. Her life took a crappy turn after that, but she has good magical roots.”
Josh nodded. “It must suck sometimes to have the ability to know what everyone’s thinking.”
More props for a clear head. “Yeah, it’s not all roses, especially if you hang out with unfortunate company.” Again on the dicey line. “But most mind witches learn to barrier pretty fast. And Lizard has good ethics—if anything, she doesn’t use what she has as much as she could.”
“What do you mean?”
Jamie reached for his incoming coffee. Headbeater baristas tended to toss orders—it was smart to have your hands ready. “Most mind witches browse outer thoughts fairly often—we’re kind of lazy that way, and we’re used to hanging out with people who know we do it.” He wondered how far to go. “Lizard’s default barriers block a lot of channels most of us leave at least partly open.”
“Why?”
Jamie stayed quiet and let Josh work out the answer for himself.
When he did, the quick anger on his face spoke volumes. “She’s lived in places where she didn’t want to pick up stuff from the people around her.”
“Yeah.” Jamie felt his way very carefully. “A lot’s changing in her world now, but that much history doesn’t just vanish.”
“I’m getting that.” The anger was still there, but Josh was already tucking it away. “Does she know how I feel about her?”
His wife was going to really like Josh. Jamie took the first, gut-searing sip of espresso and decided this guy could handle the whole truth. “She probably doesn’t want to know.”
Josh contemplated the contents of his cup. “She’s not going to get that choice forever.”
Jamie grinned and tossed back the rest of his espresso shot. He knew the right venue for part two of this conversation. “There’s a big spaghetti fest at my house tomorrow night.” Or at least, there was now. “Drop by around 6 p.m.”
Josh blinked. “Okay. Single guys don’t turn down home-cooked food, but why?”
“Because single realtors don’t turn down spaghetti either.” Jamie grinned. If Witch Central was going to meddle, at least some of them should be on Josh’s team. “Just consider me an investor.”
Most of the coffee landed back in Josh’s cup as he rumbled with laughter. “Damn. I have to stop drinking coffee with witches.”
Jamie clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I think you’re just getting started.” Witch Central wasn’t going to need much of an invitation to adopt Joshua Hennessey.
~ ~ ~
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To: jennie.adams@bythelight.com
From: Vero Liantro
Subject: Re: Nothing for me to do.
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Jennie dear,
Melvin is indeed laughing, although perhaps not for the reasons you think. He said to tell you that a guide’s job is never over—and applauding from the sidelines is a delightful and important role.
It’s like parenting. The hardest, most intensive time comes at the very beginning. We still love those babies as they grow into daredevil children, recalcitrant teens, and parents setting eyes on their own babes for the first time. We just get a little more sleep while we do it.
I believe what he is trying to say is that he loves you. And he will always love you, even as we mostly applaud from the sidelines.
He also says you’ve all missed the deeper point of Nat’s little flying exercise. Elsie is learning to reach out a hand—and Lizard is learning to take it. The lovely Nat gave them both a push.
Your students still have some interesting days ahead of them, I think. More adult passions are pulling on our Elsie now, and those can be fraught with challenge, especially for a woman who has never fantasized about a garret in Paris.
And I believe Lizard will get hit with some of those same choices whether she wants it or not. I studied the very impressive Josh Hennessey as he watched her recite poetry. Take it from a woman with a lifetime of experience with passionate men—the waters run deep in that one.
Melvin is laughing again, at me this time. He tells me young Josh isn’t in need of a cheerleader.
Ha. I’m a silly old woman, and if I want to cheer for a sexy man with his eyes on a delightful young woman, then I will.
On a different note, Jamie has just invited us for spaghetti dinner—and the estimable Joshua Hennessey is the unofficial guest of honor.
Stirring things up, is our Jamie. As Melvin says, while the meddlers at Witch Central tend to be of the female persuasion, if Jamie Sullivan really gets rolling, he could outdo the lot of us.
Walk in the light,
Vero
Chapter 11
Lizard walked into Berkeley Real Estate, hoping her boss was having a bad morning. She’d had about all the perky she could handle for one day, and it was only 8:30 a.m.
“Good morning,” said Lauren, sounding gratingly chirpy. “I could hear you cursing at Elsie a block away—what’s up?”
Freaking mind witches, always listening to everything. Lizard started yanking things out of her backpack. “She’s all bubbly and happy and cooking breakfast and mentally swooning about some dude with curly hair and sexy hands.” She looked up and glared. “Which is way more than I ever wanted to know.”
“You block what you don’t want to know, and do it very well.” Lauren pushed over a cup of coffee. “Here, have a caffeine hit and get cheery—we have clients coming in an hour.”
Lizard drank—Lauren stocked the office with seriously good coffee. “How about… you have clients. I still have to deal with the Jameson paperwork.”
“Multitask.” Her boss leaned back, smiling. “Nice job getting the Jamesons out of your hair that quickly, by the way. You got them a great deal.”
Somebody needed to tell that to Claire Jameson. “If she ever needs to buy another house, I’m retiring. Or telling her my name is Hannibal, or something.”
It took mad drinking skills to keep the coffee out of Lauren’s nose.
Lizard grinned. This was a way better start to her day than Elsie in an infatuated daze. Her boss was perfectly happy without a guy messing things up.
Lauren eyed her more seriously now. “Guys don’t always mess things up.”
Lizard scowled. Sloppy mind barriers again—she relaxed them way too often at work. “Get out of my head.”
“Your head’s talking about me,” said Lauren dryly. “And since it is, let me set the record straight. I don’t need a guy, but I’m not hell-bent on scaring them all away, either.”
They obviously weren’t talking about Lauren anymore. “I’m not scaring anyone.”
Lauren looked down at the desk for a moment. “I don’t think Josh scares all that easily.”
Truth. Threatening to make him chicken dance through his own boardroom had gotten her exactly nowhere. “He knows I’m a witch.”
Lauren’s eyebrows flew up. “You told him?”
Right before hell froze. “No. Jamie’s got a big mouth. Apparently he doesn’t care if half the universe knows he can zap things with his mind.” And that still scared her silly.
Her boss frowned. “Sometimes things are a little loose in Witch Central. They forget that most people aren’t on a first-name basis with a witch or two. How did Josh take it?”
