A Reckless Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,1

tears wash away with the waves. Today wasn’t for crying, either. She needed a plan.

Four days. On December fourteenth, she would age out of foster care—but if she didn’t have a job and a place to live by then, they wouldn’t let her go. She’d end up living under the court-ordered “transitional plan,” whatever that was.

She’d refused to read it. She had no intention of being there.

With a last good-bye to her playmates, she flipped onto her front and started swimming toward shore.

In four days, Sierra Brighton would be free. She just needed to find a job. And breakfast. She’d stayed out too long—her toes were getting cold.

~ ~ ~

Govin frowned at the flashing orange alert on his computer screen. “Hey, Teej—that Hawaii anomaly’s back.”

“Lemme look.” His long-time best friend ambled over to his desk, a beer in one hand, bowl of chips in the other. Most people would have bet TJ Hamblin was a truck driver, not one of the world’s best meteorologists.

Or as the bumper sticker on his desk chair said, “Weather Genius.” TJ wasn’t exactly humble.

And it was a bad sign he was eating chips for breakfast. “Doreen didn’t feed you?”

“She kicked me out. Said she’s tired of living with a slob.”

“She’s got some grounds for complaint.” Govin looked pointedly at the mountain of chaos on TJ’s desk. He wasn’t terribly upset to see Doreen go. Maybe next time, his buddy would raise his standards. He could always hope. He sighed—friendship probably required a little more than a shrug here. “Want some scrambled eggs?”

TJ brightened. “Sausages, too? She kicked me out before dinner last night—I’m starving.”

Govin rolled his eyes. TJ was clueless about at least half the life skills required to be an adult.

His mom often said that’s why the two of them had been matched up—that he’d been born with an extra dose of TJ’s missing common sense. As a mathematician, he appreciated her sense of humor. As a guy with a brilliant, but often clueless friend, it wasn’t always quite so funny.

He pulled out a carton of eggs and discovered that the package of breakfast sausages only contained one sad little link. Which wouldn’t even put a minor dent in TJ’s appetite.

Grabbing his cell phone, he called their personal rescue service. Nell always had extra food lying around. They’d had a deal in college, when the three of them had lived together—if the guys weren’t total pigs, she’d occasionally feed them. He looked around the room and winced. They weren’t exactly keeping up their end of the bargain.

Nell was laughing when she answered the phone. “What do you need?”

“I’m wounded. I don’t always need something when I call you.” Govin hoped that was true.

“It is when you call before noon. Until then, you’re usually too deep into your data to talk to an actual human being.”

“Mornings are busy.” Weather never stood still, and he had to catch up on what he’d missed while he slept.

He could hear rummaging on the other end of the phone. “I’ve got bacon and sausages, and pumpkin pancakes in a few minutes. No more eggs, though. Aervyn’s growing again.”

“Just some sausages would be great.” He peered at the contents of his fridge. “I have some extra eggs I can send back with your delivery boy.”

She laughed. “What’s the expiration date?”

He sighed. Nell had lived with him and TJ for two years, so she had plenty of data driving such suspicions. “Probably not within your tolerances.”

She was still chuckling when she ended the call. A package of sausages, well within their expiry date, thunked onto his counter moments later. Govin saluted in the general direction of Nell’s house. “Thanks, little dude.” Aervyn was a good witchling to have around.

Taking a minute to get breakfast underway, he walked back to his laptop. “Learn anything new?” They’d been trying to understand this particular Hawaii anomaly for two years now—one of their private projects. Their funders didn’t like to pay for the weather version of ghostbusting.

TJ scowled. “Not really. Just that it’s getting stronger.”

Govin looked at the new plots. Same story as always—an errant currant of warm water would appear and run from Hawaii to the Oregon Coast. Less than an hour later, it would disappear, violating all laws of logic and mathematics. It was driving the two of them crazy trying to figure out the source.

He leaned a little closer, and then clicked a few keys, pulling complex displays up on their three oversized monitor screens. “Yeesh, Teej. That’s getting awfully close to