A Hidden Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 2) by Debora Geary

was
going away for years instead of a week. Her three students had
shown up with a care package of homemade snickerdoodles, some
freshly picked blueberries, and a painstakingly drawn and lettered
card—clearly Lizzie’s handiwork.
    “We picked the berries this afternoon,” Kevin
said. “There were more, but it was hard to stop eating them.”
    Elorie looked at the gallon bucketful and tried
not to giggle. It didn’t seem likely they would let her take those
on the plane. Aaron would be serving blueberry pancakes to their
guests for days. And the snickerdoodles wouldn’t make it as far as
the plane—their cinnamon-y goodness was already teasing her
nose.
    She hugged Lizzie. “I’m only going for a few
days, so I won’t forget you, and I most definitely won’t be hungry.
Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone, okay?” She looked at
Sean as she said the last.
    He rolled his eyes. “We don’t try to get into
trouble. It just kind of finds us.”
    “Find a better hiding place.” She kissed the top
of his head, sure to annoy him. “I don’t want Gran having to do a
lot of spellwork while I’m gone. Remember, she tires more easily
than she thinks.”
    “She won’t have to,” Kevin said. “Uncle Marcus
is staying here while you’re gone. He says we need better
supervision.”
    Uncle Marcus? Wow. He only came out of
his cave a couple of times a year, and never for more than a day or
two.
    “He likes people more than you think,” Kevin
said, and then blushed. “Oops, sorry. I’m not too good at
mind-witch manners yet. Uncle Marcus says I need to practice
harder, but your mind is really leaky.”
    Lovely. Just what she needed to hear as she
headed off to Witch Central, where there were mind witches
practically wall-to-wall. “You can practice while I’m gone. Or
maybe if you’re hearing things you shouldn’t, you could at least
help keep Sean out of trouble.”
    Kevin shook his head. “Nope. His mind isn’t
leaky at all.”
    Lizzie talked with her mouth full of
blueberries. “Is my brain leaky?”
    Sean grinned. “It’s gonna be leaking blueberries
soon if you don’t stop eating them. You’re gonna have purple poop,
too.”
    “Eeeewwww, I will not,” Lizzie said. She looked
at Elorie. “Can poop really turn purple?”
    “How many of those have you eaten?”
    Lizzie contemplated the blueberry container.
“Maybe one whole bucket. Granny Moira said I could eat as many as I
wanted. She said blueberries are good for witchlings.”
    Elorie gave her a hug. “They’re very good for
you—and that many blueberries will definitely give you purple poop.
Did Gran want any blueberries for herself?”
    “We left her a bucketful,” Kevin said.
    “Maybe she’ll have purple poop, too.” Lizzie
seemed to think that was a pretty cool possibility. “And the
blueberries made her stop crying.”
    Elorie’s purple-poop induced giggles shut off
abruptly. “Gran was crying?”
    “Just a little,” Sean said. “She wouldn’t tell
us why. She said that sometimes old witches just get a little
teary.”
    “She was sitting with her scrying bowl,” Lizzie
said. “I think she was sad because it wouldn’t answer her
question.”
    Kevin gave Lizzie a strange look, the kind that
triggered Elorie’s “uh, oh” radar. “What’s going on, Kev?”
    He shook his head. “Uncle Marcus said I
shouldn’t talk about things I pick up accidentally from other
people’s minds.”
    Tricky territory. “Mostly you shouldn’t, but
sometimes it’s important to share things about somebody you love.
Is Lizzie right about why Gran was sad?”
    Kevin nodded. “Yeah, but how did Lizzie hear
that? Gran only said it inside her head.”
    Lizzie grabbed another handful of blueberries.
“Maybe I’m a mind witch, too. Or maybe I’m just a good guesser.”
She seemed entirely unconcerned about a possible new magical
power.
    Just what we need, Elorie thought—a whole flock
of mind witches with questionable manners. It