Familiarity Breeds Witchcraft (11 page)

“Don’t. Please.”

“We know a lot about each other, but I don’t read minds, Gem.” Enid pulled back and turned Gemma’s face toward her so their eyes met. “That’s not how this works. You’ve got to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“You know how much trouble I have expressing my feelings. You know
me
.” Gemma pressed a fist to her chest as she tried to catch her breath. Part of her mind screamed at her to shut up and not blame Enid, that even
Gemma
hadn’t known until recently, but she couldn’t keep from lashing out like a wounded animal. “Or I thought you did! Can’t you see anything beyond what you’ve been doing?”

“I’m trying to
help
.”

Help me!
Gemma thought. What she said aloud was, “Just stop. This is hard enough.”

Enid set her jaw. “You’re making this worse, Gemma. Not me.”

Gemma threw back her head and laughed. Did Enid think she didn’t know that already?

Enid misinterpreted her laughter. She got to her feet again, putting more space between the two of them. “No one can read your mind. Not me, not Fox, not anyone in this town. You shut yourself away. You haven’t been going to any of the esbats! You don’t join in on our spell sessions anymore.” She took a breath. When she spoke again, her voice came out in a softer tone. “If you just told Fox how you felt…”

“Don’t you think I would if I could?” Gemma couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears from erupting from her. She turned away and wiped her cheeks yet again. “Life isn’t that easy.”

As Gemma got to her feet, Enid took a few steps forward, holding her arms open. “Sis…”

Gemma stepped away.

Enid’s arms dropped.

“You need to trust, beloved sister,” Enid said softly. “It’s not that you
can’t
tell Fox how you feel—it’s that you don’t trust her to take it well. Even if she doesn’t reciprocate, what do you think is the worst that could happen? She’s your best friend. She will understand. She will never stop caring about you.”

“Let’s assume that’s true. What happens when
that
finds Fox’s true love?” She thrust a finger toward her cauldron. “She’ll still forget about me.”

Enid’s eyebrows knitted. She picked up the spoon and resumed stirring. “Really? Do you think so?”

The front door banged open.

“Enid!” Orianna ran into the kitchen, breathless, her gaze flicking between the sisters. She didn’t seem to read anything aside from the presence of the two people in the room. “I’m glad you’re here too, Gemma.” She bent over to rest her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. From the way she looked, she’d run a long distance in a short time without stopping.

Gemma felt a hitch of fear.
 

“What’s wrong?” Enid set down the spoon and shut off the flame beneath the cauldron. “What do you need?”

“Rowan.” Orianna straightened and held her side as though she had a stitch. “She’s gone into labor!”

BY THE TIME Gemma, Enid, and Orianna reached the house, they found the rest of the coven already present.

Most births in Secret Hallow worked the same way; everyone came into the world within the warmth of their family home, with the coven gathered outside casting healing magic over the proceedings. It was a beautiful, joyous thing, and nothing could keep the coven away: not even fights between sisters.

Even so, Gemma felt a little surprised that Garrett hadn’t encouraged Rowan to leave town to go to a mundane hospital. From what she’d heard, most people outside Secret Hallow didn’t believe in home births, so she’d expected him to have the same wish, being such a new member of their world and all.

Still, she felt a selfish gladness that he hadn’t. Though she hadn’t been joining in with many activities lately, even Gemma would never miss the birth of new life.

A new member of her family.

Her heart was pounding with something that very much felt like the first swoon of love, and she hadn’t even seen the baby yet.

The scene looked like most outdoor Secret Hallow parties. Food and drinks weighed down long tables surrounded by the chairs provided by each person. Kids ran around, laughing and playing, and she looked over to find Fern in the middle of the group.
 

Orianna sent her daughter a smile as they hurried past. Not too long before, Fern would never have joined in with the others. She’d always hung back, aloof, the way Gemma did most of the time, but Fern’s confidence had grown under Rowan’s tutelage. Now she was indistinguishable from the other witchlings.

Why couldn’t Gemma manage to get along with others as well as a five-year-old could?

“It’s time, it’s time!” Iris Westerly, flapping her hands. Sparkles gusted across the lawn.

“It’s time,” Enid agreed, shooting a grin at Gemma.

In such moments, all wounds were forgotten.

An undercurrent of magic hung heavy on the air as the coven cast the healing birth spell. Gemma could feel the focus on the inside of the house, even and steady. They channeled strength toward the woman laboring to bring new life into the world.

A life blessed by the rest of the coven.

“Is Nana Winterblossom here already? I haven’t seen her.” Orianna had, by the time Gemma made a circuit of the lawn and returned, met up with Fern and Caedmon. The trio looked more and more like a family unit every time she saw them together.

Orianna nodded. “Who else would midwife this birth?” She gestured upward. “Look.”

Gemma spotted a fluffy white puff ball perched beneath the front eave. Sparkles the owl stirred to scratch under a wing. Nana’s familiar wouldn’t be inclined to miss such a momentous event in the lives of both Nana and Rowan. Nor would the owl be here if Nana weren’t.

The strongest of the elders moved into a semi-circle around the front steps of the house. The rest of the coven, minus Gemma, created a secondary circle behind them.
 

She watched the elders clasp hands, bow their heads, and close their eyes. The group began to glow with a golden light as they strengthened the powers already being channeled in through the open front door.
 

 
Gemma knew they’d already drawn a circle of power around the perimeter of the house to prevent any of the magic from escaping. The power, like brilliant beams of twisting light, melded into a sparkling orange column that moved from them up the steps to disappear inside. She noticed Enid standing with the rest of the secondary circle, though, her face a mask of concentration.

She could have joined her sister. She
wanted
to join her sister. But it had been so long since she’d united with the coven—what if they didn’t want her there? Gemma hung back.

“Sorry I’m late!” Fox appeared at her side, holding a plate of pumpkin pie. It seemed she hadn’t eaten anything else since her arrival and planned to eat at least three more slices. “What’s going on?

“You haven’t missed anything,” Gemma managed to say, even though Fox’s bright smile caused an almost unbearable ache to well up within her. “Rowan’s in labor. This could take a while yet, from what I’ve been told.”

“That’s good news.” Fox wasn’t immune to Gemma’s mood. She set her pie down and frowned. “You okay, babe?”

Gemma swallowed down the lump in her throat for the umpteenth time and said, “Fine.”

“I’m fine and you’re fine.” Gesturing at the house, Fox asked, “This will all be fine, too, right? Nothing’s going wrong with the mama or baby?”

That depended on Fox’s definition of “nothing”. Of course, Gemma knew, in a general sense, what the other woman was asking. “The situation seems pretty normal at this point.”

Normal in Secret Hallow, of course, did involve witchlings throwing practice hexes at each other, but Gemma wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Fox glanced over at the rest of the coven. “Why aren’t you up there with the others? I’m sure they could use your help. You’re strong.”

Gemma couldn’t figure out how to explain…well, anything, about her place in Secret Hallow. She’d caused her own outsider status by refusing to allow kind-hearted people to be involved in her life.

“I’m hanging back to eat pie,” Gemma said, knowing it was a ridiculous excuse.

“Building up your strength, huh? Good idea.” Looking at the various baked goods on the table before her, Fox rubbed her hands together, her tongue wetting her lips. “Ooh, so many new goodies I haven’t tried yet. I’m going to save the rest of my plate for later and grab something else. What do you recommend?”

Gemma shrugged. “Everything’s good. Depends on your tastes, I guess.”

Fox grinned. “Good thing childbirth tends to take a while! I might have to sample a few things while we wait.” She chose a slice of apple and one of berry crumble. “Where shall we sit?”

They ended up side-by-side on the tall grass. Not only did Fox have a plate of dessert, she’d also filled a second with an actual meal, probably because she’d been driving all over the state for most of the day.

Between bites, she regaled Gemma with the tale of her quest for fuel, punctuated with an occasional self-deprecating laugh. As expected, she hadn’t been able to find the town where she’d gotten the tractor again because she couldn’t remember the name.

“I drove down a private farm road at one point!” Fox had to set down her plate for a moment so she wouldn’t spill her food as she gestured. “I ignored the ‘no trespassing’ sign because I thought I’d seen a familiar outlet.”

“Did you find one?” Despite her heartache, Gemma couldn’t help but get caught up in the story.

“No way.” Fox gave Gemma a rueful grin. “The owners were sweet, though. They gave very nice directions to a nearby town. Not the right place, but I came across a diner owner who recognized what I am and…” Trailing off, Fox squinted in the direction of the house. “Huh.”

Following the glance, Gemma asked, “What?” She didn’t see anything unusual. Yet she thought Fox seemed unnerved by whatever she’d noticed.

“Looks like the spell is fluctuating.”

Watching the streams of power, Gemma frowned. “I don’t see any changes. And the coven does this kind of thing all the time so I can’t think they’d have a problem. This is second nature to everyone around here.”

“I’m not saying anything’s
wrong
.” Fox waved toward the assembled group with a dramatic flair. “This is the coolest magic I’ve ever seen. May a black cat cross my path if I’m fibbing.” She dropped her hand into her lap. “I just…”

Gemma bit her lower lip. Fox often mentioned that, though she didn’t have much developed skill, part of her raw talent lay in her ability to see variations in power. Since she didn’t go to group workings, she couldn’t practice using the skill. Even so, Gemma trusted her instinct. “What do you think’s happening?”
 

“They’re…unbalanced? As a group they’re compensating really well, but the combined powers aren’t quite achieving maximum potential. They need a special spirit source to even out the casting.”
 

Spirit. Of course. Gemma glanced at her companion out of the corner of her eye and wondered whether Fox might be setting her up.
 

Fox picked up her dessert plate and took a large bite of pumpkin pie and whipped cream. She closed her eyes and gave a pleasurable moan as she chewed, not seeming inclined to follow through on the discussion.
 

Gemma took a breath. “You know I’m a type of spirit witch. Technology is related to that—imbuing the inanimate with life.”

Fox’s eyes brightened. “I totally forgot!”

A loud noise came from the house. Not quite a scream, but very close.

Gemma’s heart skipped a beat. “Sounds like Rowan’s in distress. Do you think my joining in would help?” Despite her personal feelings, she couldn’t ignore a friend in need, considering the situation. She also owed Rowan big time for having treated her the way she had without even offering an apology.
 

“Couldn’t hurt.” Fox gave the impression she had no strong opinion on whether or not Gemma should help out. “The decision is yours, of course.” She bumped her shoulder affectionately against Gemma’s.

With a pang, she realized Fox was being kinder to her than she’d been to her own sister earlier that day. Both Rowan and Enid deserved better from Gemma.

Her conscience won out over her discomfort when she heard another loud whimper from the house.

Though unfamiliar with actual childbirth, she knew the general series of events, and couldn’t begin to imagine how Rowan might be feeling as she labored to bring her child into the world. She deserved all the help she could get—and she deserved it from the entire coven, not just the witches who were in a good mood.
 

Gemma brushed her hands over her skirt as she stood. “Got any trash? I can throw stuff away on my way over to join the group.”

“Sure!” Fox grinned as she handed her used plates up to Gemma. “Thanks for testing my hypothesis about adding a spirit witch to the mix. Time to see if all my self-study magic has paid off!”

Gemma dropped the plates on the ground and knelt to pull Fox into a bear hug.

She couldn’t help it. She needed that moment of sweet contact. Not just to show her gratitude, but to bolster her strength, her confidence…
everything
.

Fox patted her on the back as she returned the embrace. “Go get ‘em!”
 

Once Gemma threw out their trash she stepped up to the clasped hands of the larger semi-circle grouped behind the elders. Enid grinned and released her neighbor’s hand, allowing her sister to join in. Gemma took a breath and turned her focus inward as the coven’s power washed over her.

She’d been raised on magic. Centering and accessing power came to her in a way as instinctual as breathing.

As a spirit witch, she collected and focused the powers of the group. Since she felt magic in a clearer manner than what she saw, she soon realized Fox had been right.

The coven was unbalanced. Everyone needed to pull together.

Pushing her doubts away, she took up the ragged edges of power cast by the others and wove them into a whole, pushing that forward to the elders until she sensed a shining tapestry of magic between them. For the first time, she’d come into the group working as an equal, her power as strong and sure as that of any one of the elders.