A Nomadic Witch

A puzzled six-year-old stared back, and then turned to the man in black behind her. “Who was Aife, Uncle Marcus?”

“She was Irish.” He paused a beat. “The greatest Irish sorceress and warrior who ever lived.”

Moira waited as several thousand years of Irish mythology came to rest on the simple pin in Lizzie’s hair. And watched in pride as her youngest student turned back to her foes-eyes fierce and hand on her sword.

Sean and Kevin were in a wee mite of trouble.

***

Sophie tried hard not to grin as Lizzie turned, a warrior ready-with shiny purple boots, Darth Vader sword, and the pin of an ancient Celtic druidess in her hair.

Battle referees were supposed to be impartial.

Do witches even know the meaning of that word? Marcus spoke inside her head, his face showing no signs of his clear amusement. She’s going to cream them.

Given the way Lizzie was waving her sword around, that was entirely possible, especially if Sean and Kevin didn’t stop gaping long enough to actually defend themselves.

Give them a moment, said Marcus dryly. They’ve just been ganged up on by half the womenfolk of witchdom.

It’s boots and a little jewelry. Sophie was well aware he was right, but there was something entirely unnatural about agreeing with Marcus. We’re just making sure Realm’s newest female warrior gets a little respect.

And given his silent stance as the metaphorical holder of her cloak, they weren’t the only ones. Which was just plain weird.

Sophie surveyed her battle participants-this was an awfully long time for Sean to stand still. “Everyone ready?”

It took a second, but when Sean picked up his sword, the gleam of pirates flashed in his eyes. Not entirely easy pickings. “Ready!” Kevin stood at his shoulder, silent and watchful, saber at half mast.

If Lizzie was smart, she’d be a lot more worried about Kevin.

“Fight fair!” Sophie raised the rainbow flag of Realm. “And-GO!”

Lizzie’s mad charge toward Sean’s belly wasn’t a huge shock. Marcus hot on her heels, sword at the ready, was.

Surprised pirate tangled with warrior priestess, magic singing off their armor spells. Sophie winced. Someone should have added reinforcing spells to the swords.

Do you think I’m a complete fool? Marcus sounded like he was having a cup of tea mid-battlefield, his feet dancing gracefully out of Kevin’s way. Lizzie would never forgive me if her saber broke.

That was amazingly insightful thinking from the man who had taken two years to realize she might even want one.

Sophie focused on Marcus again. Sword calm, quiet, and deadly. Or it could have been, if he weren’t carefully schooling Kevin in some arcane form of dance.

Pfft. It’s called fencing. A long and illustrious sport that a goodly number of the denizens of Realm would do well to study. Marcus rolled his sword under Kevin’s, stopping just short of disarming him. I captained my college team.

Kevin blinked-and settled his saber back in his hands, much quieter this time.

Sophie watched as their bookworm witchling mirrored Marcus’s footsteps, learning the strange and ancient dance of swords. And grinned as Kevin’s sudden lunge nearly sent Marcus into the moat.

Hmmph. Marcus sounded disgusted, mostly with himself. He’s got some potential, this one. And I’m a lot older than I used to be.

Lizzie yelled something unintelligible and fierce as she dove under Marcus’s sword hand, aiming for Sean’s knees. Sean spun in frustration, still tangled in his own cape-

And froze.

Ear-piercing klaxons blared through Realm, loud enough to wake the dead.

Morgan.

Sophie bolted for the ramparts and realized Marcus was four steps ahead of her, long legs flying over rough cobblestone. She slowed down-a healer with a concussion wasn’t going to help anyone-and then remembered she was in Realm. Two quick finger taps later, she’d ported both herself and Marcus to Morgan’s side.

The wailing Morgan’s side.

Marcus swung a hand around, flinging power at invisible enemies. He grabbed Morgan roughly-a move that did nothing to diminish her howling-and screamed commands at the tablet on his waist. Voice-activated spells flung in all directions. Warding. Seeking. Hunting the terror that stalked his baby girl.

Sophie had seen ravaging mama grizzlies that looked less fierce.

And none of it was necessary. The kicking, screaming, pink, warm Morgan was very much present.

It was Moira who silenced the alarms.

And Moira who reached out to touch Marcus’s hand as Morgan’s cries finally penetrated.

The edges of insanity leaked out of his eyes, and he looked down at his baby girl. Really looked, his hands gentling as he touched her cheeks. Her toes. Caught her waving hand and squeezed it, soothing her cries down to nothing.

And when he finally spoke, to his tiny audience of one, it was a decent approximation of Marcus Buchanan. “We might have won without the interruption, you know.”

Lizzie giggled. “Maybe she’s mad you were using her sword.”

He looked up, eyes taking in the concern on the assembled faces. And for the first time that Sophie could ever remember, walked toward a crowd. Carrying the baby girl they all wanted to see.

***

Nell was one of the few not watching Marcus.

She was watching her brother and her healer daughter, standing nose to nose over one of the funky new Realm tablets. She edged carefully through the crowd. What’s up?

Dunno yet. Jamie’s mental voice sounded distracted. We’re still trying to figure out which warding spell got activated.

Two more blonde heads reached him before Nell managed to squeeze through the last of the witch bystanders. Good. Mia was a hotshot hacker, and Shay was their most surefooted debugger.

Best ten-year-old online security team on the planet.

And it made her proud that they were looking for the breach while most people were just happy to see Morgan safe.

“There.” Ginia stabbed a finger at a corner of her tablet. “That’s the trigger.”

Jamie grunted and moved his nose in closer. “What spell is that?”

“One of the old ones.” Mia’s fingers moved at light speed, scrolling lines of code. “Ginnie, you’ve got it labeled as ‘shiny rocks’?” She looked up, puzzled. “What’s that mean?”

“It’s the one Moira asked for.” Ginia frowned. “It’s a really old ‘stay put’ blessing. Kind of like a stasis field, but way older. It reacts if anything tries to touch all the shiny rocks she put in Morgan’s garden.”

Nell blinked. She was at least ten pages of code behind on this one. “What rocks?”

“She had us move in boatloads of shiny beach pebbles.” Jamie nodded in the direction of the moats and gardens below. “See how it glints down there?”

“Wait.” Nell was still trying to catch up. “So something magical tried to touch the rocks and set off a warding spell?” She frowned. In a game world full of witches, that could mean any number of things.

False alarm, maybe? sent Jamie quietly.

Perhaps. Or an errant game spell-the old magics weren’t used to virtual shenanigans. Whatever it was, it wasn’t headed at Morgan. At least not directly.