Page 20 of From the Edge

The ladies and the little girl entered, and Ira gasped and asked Rowan, “Can I run in here?”

“Absolutely. Count the rooms on the main floor if you like. If you get lost, call Miss Rowan, and I will come get you.”

Ira nodded. “Mom?”

Regis nodded. “Go ahead. Don’t break anything. I don’t know if your father can afford replacements.”

Ira cackled with laughter, and she took off toward the first ballroom.

Rowan took the ladies into the kitchen, where tea was being made, and muffin batter was half-mixed.

Regis looked on with a smile. “Can you show me how to do that?”

“You? Probably not. Arwell, yes.”

Arwell smiled. “Why me?”

“Frequency. Magic has frequencies, which you all know. Domestic magic has specific needs because it is placement and action and chemistry and application of heat, so there is a change of state.” Rowan smiled. “Also, time is a factor that has to be included. If you rush things, the result is a nasty mess. The right time has to be acknowledged.”

Regis blinked. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. It really is tricky, isn’t it?”

“Sure. Anyone can hold out their hand and portal a muffin from their favourite bakery, but they can be taking it from storage, from the counter, or from someone who saved up for it and is consuming their first meal of the week. It is cruel without compensation.”

Arwell blinked. “Holy shit. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Rowan poured the tea and settled. “Auntie Aspen, they are here for you.”

Hello, is it me you’re looking for?

“That is Auntie Aspen. Her focal point is in the carriage house, but I have run speakers and microphones throughout the house. I am never out of reach.”

Mik sipped her tea. “How do you keep in touch with her when you leave?”

“I am in the walls, the floors. I am part of the great house. She speaks here, and I hear her. Always. She is never alone.”

Win’s eyes lit. “First, this is good tea; second, that is why she has kept her sanity while her body dispersed.”

You drive me crazy.

Rowan grinned. “We don’t use the c-word, Auntie.”

Shut up; there you go, you are always right.

“I know I am, Auntie.” Rowan sipped her tea. “That’s why we are all still alive.”

Arwell asked, “How did you become a sex magic witch?”

“I had to. I needed a power that would be effective on men but strong. I have rarely met a man who wasn’t susceptible to sex. So that is my in, and that is how I get into them and tear them apart. They can’t resist the touch of sex, and I use it to blow them into red mist.”

Mik whistled. “So, you...”

“Shaped myself. I don’t always get it right. The skin thing is an example.”

Win cocked her head. “Skin thing? May I take a picture of you?”

“Sure.”

The camera came up, and there was a snapping of the shutter. Win started looking through the display, and she went. “Oh. Wow. That’s different.”