Feathers (A Witch Central Morsel) - Plot & Excerpts
Feathers This fire didn’t have the spiritual energy of the last. But it called to Moira’s Irish heart in an entirely different way.She’d noted that Costa Ricans liked to play. To spend time simply being with each other, and to enjoy the pastimes of small children. The generations intertwined here in a way that she rarely saw outside small Nova Scotia fishing villages anymore.It was that energy Téo had brought to the cozy fire tonight. She didn’t doubt it was intentional—the man with twinkling eyes might call himself a doctor, but he carried his grandfather’s shaman calling in his soul. She’d bet her life’s very last cup of tea on it, especially after the last couple of days.This was a fire of comfort, with plenty of fuel to feed it. Téo crouched down, in deep discussion with Aervyn, Kenna, and Benny about where their next stick of wood should go. Nat sat down on the log to Moira’s left and smiled. “Only a crazy man tries to negotiate with two-year-olds.”“People have begun to think of your twosome as twins.” Witch Central rarely needed their truths to be literal.The love in Nat’s eyes could have felled empires. “Kenna and Benny got there ages ago. There are plenty of days Jamie and I swear they share a brain.”A prospect that would have terrified most parents. These particular children were what Great-gran would have called “high spirited”—a term that had also been applied to the young hoyden in her gardens more than once. “They’ll likely mellow with age.” She let her eyes twinkle at Nat. “I did.”“Raising future Moira Doonans, am I?” Their yogini looked amused by the idea—and intrigued.Moira watched the duo, hot on Aervyn’s heels, leave the fire area at a dead run. “Well, they’re a mite faster than I ever was.”Nat’s chuckle rolled out into the night. “They practice. A lot.”Aye. In their own ways, both children had chosen the right family. One where speed and fire and force of personality would be given fuel and room to grow and mature and find purpose in the world.A promise made to every youngling in Witch Central. Moira smiled at Nat, knowing exactly what stick she wanted to lay on Téo’s fire. “It’s good they took us in, isn’t it?” The Sullivans collected very good people.
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