Page 52 of Wicching Hour

“Thank you.” I leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll guide you through. Remember, we—the fae—don’t do spells. Wearemagic. There are no incantations or potions involved. We impose our will on the world—in this realm. In Faerie, the realm interacts with us. Faerie and the fae are—what’s the term?—symbiotic. We work in concert with each other. Faerie, through the queen, has its own magic.

“The queen allows us our freedom until she doesn’t and then she, as the source of all magic, reigns. Here, though, the realm itself is not magical. It adheres to Science. So in this realm, we impose our magic over the natural world.”

A wind kicked up and blew our hair into our faces. “Here,” he said. “This is a good example. We want the wind to blow in another direction, so our hair isn’t in our faces. This is a small magic.”

He took my hand again and I smelled the ocean, felt a wave capsize over me. “We use the source of our magic,” he explained. “For me—and you through me—that source is the immense power of the oceans. Do you feel it?”

I nodded. “I do.”

“Good. Think about how it feels to move through the water, the way you propel yourself through that ancient power. The ocean moves as it will and has since the beginning of time, but you are able to slide through it, to make it give way to you.”

“But...” I opened my eyes to catch a peek of him through my hair. “Humans can swim in the ocean too.”

“Yes. Science,” he explained. “Their bodies, being made of water, are buoyant. They can exert their muscles to force their way through. What happens, though, in a storm, when they are swamped by waves?”

“They drown,” I answered.

“Precisely. The water is not their home. They may visit for short periods in good conditions, but they cannot survive there. Do you drown?”

I shook my head. “No. If I go too long without breathing, I get a bad headache, but I don’t drown.”

He made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat. “Wicche genes are giving you that headache. I’ll see later if I can fix that. So the ocean welcomes you. It is as much your home as the land. This is a source of power you can use.

“Back to this damned wind. Feel the ocean moving through your veins, the ancient magic that covers three-quarters of this realm. Feel the wind the ocean stirs up and move it—notallof it,” he said, his voice suddenly stern. “We can’t have you blowing ships off course all over the world because your hair has flown in your face.”

I laughed.

“Not a joke, little one. I could do that easily. We have yet to see what you can accomplish. As you are mine, you are quite powerful. So, no changing the tides or disturbing my creatures.” He tapped his broad finger on my knee. “We respect those that live in our realm. We mean life or death to them. We protect what is ours. Yes?”

“Of course,” I responded. He may have believed I could change the tides, but I knew that was far beyond my abilities.

“Don’t be too sure,” he said, responding to my thoughts. “Now, using just a small drop of that power, shift the winds right here, on your grandmother’s property, to head southwest so we can see.”

I thought about standing on my deck and the wind off the ocean blowing my hair back and then suddenly my hair was off my face.

“Good,” he said. “Can you gentle it?”

I wasn’t sure how I was doing it, let alone how to ease up on whatever I was doing. I pictured a warm summer afternoon with a little breeze off the ocean. The air warmed and my hair was no longer flying straight back in a gale.

My dad smiled at me with pride in his eyes. “Excellent. Now, as for securing the old bitty’s house, we’ll do something similar.”

He held my hand in one of his and placed his free hand on a slate tile. I mirrored him.

“Wicche wards are very complicated things,” he said. “Yes?”

I nodded.

“Again, we don’t cast spells,” he instructed. “We impose our will.”

Weimposeour will. How was the question. Okay, I’d do what I did with the wind. I imagined that huge wave my dad had sent to put out the gallery fire that one of Calliope’s minions had set a while ago. I pictured the force of that huge wave capsizing over Gran’s house, coating every inch of it in ocean water that had been touched by Dad and me. Our magic, like an electric eel and jellyfish, swam through the coating.

When I heard a hiss of pain, my eyes flew open. Declan stood on the crest of the roof, looking over the back toward Gran’s patio, where the sound had originated.

Dad threw his head back and laughed. “Yes! That did it. You stung him.” He put his hand back on the roof and said, “And now your mother, grandmother, and great-uncle can walk in and out of the house.”

“Oh. Good save. Thank you.” I pointed at Declan. “Can you fix it so Declan is safe too?”

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