He closed his eyes and stood there, shaking his hands to get all the cramps and numbness out of them, she supposed. Then he slowly opened his eyes again, and fastened them on the space between her hands. “Still nothin’,” he said with disappointment.

She sucked on her lower lip. I wonder. Aunt Jinny says doin’ a “spell” is jest making th’ Glory do what you want it to. So can I make it fix things so he can see it?

Worth a try.

She concentrated on the little orb of magic power between her hands, telling it fiercely that she wanted Josh to be able to see it the way she could. She didn’t have a particular glyph to write in the air to make it do that exact thing, so as she released the power in a shower of golden sparks, she wrote the one for “as I will it” between the two of them, keeping her intention firmly in mind—and hoping he might be able to see the glyph anyway.

The sparkling motes of power gathered to form the glyph, which hung there between them for a moment, then burst like a firework.

He blinked and stepped back a pace. “Did y’all see what I wrote?” she asked hopefully.

“Wall, no,” he said cautiously, “but I shore felt somethin’ jest then.”

She cupped her hands and gathered power for a second time, and the moment the little orb began to form, he jerked his head up and stared.

“By gum!” he exclaimed. “I see it! Like a liddle ball o’ light!” He stared at the space between her hands as if he had never seen anything so fascinating in his life.

Well, it is magic.

“Can y’all see thet glow anywheres else?” she asked. “Y’all might not. Aunt Jinny cain’t. She says I got more of the magic than she do.”

“Like where?” he asked.

She released the power gently to go back to its source, and pointed to the tiny rivulet of magic that was practically at her feet. “Thar, fer one.”

He shook his head. “But I c’n see sorta—” his face twisted a little as he sought for words to describe what it was he was seeing, “—it’s kinda like a glowy dust over y’all. Lots on your hands,” he added. She looked down at her hands, and sure enough, they were still aglow with residual magic.

“So y’all cain’t see it as good as me—” she began.

“But at least I c’n see it a-tall!” he interrupted. “An’ now I know what t’look fer. Thet’ll do fer—wall, howdy, liddle feller—”

She glanced down and saw one of the piskies at his feet. The piskie waved a twig-like arm at him, and scrambled up the leg of an empty stool to perch on the seat.

“Huh. He do got thet glow ’bout him, like y’all said. What y’all call a critter like him?” he asked, looking up at her again.

“Aunt Jinny calls it a piskie,” she replied, pleased that she was able to put a name to the critter for him.