Matthew didn’t take the bait, but he might have realized I was attempting to win him back over. Moira’s face lit up with curiosity, though it was Gram that spoke first, “Better how?”
I grinned with enthusiasm. “It makes you as light as a feather, but only as long as you remain quiet. Would you like to try it?”
He gave me a suspicious look, but luckily Conall volunteered, “I want to!” The look on his face was positively angelic. I glanced at the other children to make sure I had their full attention, and then I place my hand on top of his head while I intoned a few words in Lycian. The spell was a simple one that I had used in several variations over the years. Its primary effect was to essentially reduce the overall mass of an object, and when I say mass, I mean mass, not just weight. Inertia and momentum both become smaller as mass decreases, effects that Dorian had complained about with his original lightweight, enchanted chainmail. I had later gone with a much more complicated system for the plate armors that I made for the Knights of Stone, but for what I intended today with my children, this was the perfect spell.
Removing my hand I looked at him carefully, “Do you feel different?”
Nodding, Conall stepped back and promptly bounced up several feet from the floor. His first response was to let out a ‘whoop’ of excitement and surprise, and as he did I silently adjusted the spell to make him heavier. Ordinarily, manipulating magic without using words required more energy, due to a loss of efficiency, and the same was true here. However, the amount of aythar required, relative to my own strength, was such that I could easily afford to do so without verbal language. It also kept the twins from realizing I was adjusting the effect deliberately.
“See there!? You were light as a feather until you let out that yell,” I observed intelligently. I could see understanding dawning on their faces, and I smiled inwardly. This will be the greatest silent game ever, I thought to myself.
Soon enough I had spelled each of them so that they were able to bounce about the room lightly, almost floating, as if they were no heavier than soap bubbles. At first I watched them closely, making them heavier if they spoke or got noisy before returning them to their near weightless state if they stayed silent for a while. Needless to say, my plan worked brilliantly, and soon they were all entirely quiet as they smiled and pushed off from floors and walls, flying effortlessly from one side of the room to the other.
Irene was giggling in my arms as she watched her siblings and Gram cartwheeling through the air. Since she seemed happy enough, I set her in her cradle to watch them, while I sat down in Penny’s rocking chair. I had forgotten how comfortable it could be, with its padded arms and seat.
At some point, before I realized it, I fell asleep. Dealing with young children took a bit of energy, and it was quite pleasant to doze as they played around me in the nursery. I had already warned them not to leave the room, and there seemed to be little harm they could do in their near weightless state. With my chin on my chest, I dozed and dreamt of sunny days and simpler times.
“What in the world!?” Penelope exclaimed loudly, startling me awake. My heart was racing at her sudden cry, and my eyes fought to focus on her as she stood in the doorway. A surge of adrenaline shot through me, and I saw her eyes focusing above me, where Matthew and Moira were sailing over my head, holding little Irene between them.
“Momma!” cried Moira excitedly, and then she lost her grip on her younger sister, causing Matthew and Irene to tumble awkwardly while Moira sailed off in another direction. Irene still had her full weight, and though her brother struggled gallantly he lost his grip on her as well.
Looking upward in shock and surprise, I caught my giggling infant daughter as she fell. It was a catch born of pure reflex and parental good fortune, for I was utterly unprepared. My face was a study in bewilderment as I met Penny’s gaze. “I can explain,” I stuttered out immediately.
As it turned out, my explanation was rather unimpressive, or at least that was my impression based upon Penny’s disapproving stare. It didn’t help that the children were still bounding up and down around us while we talked. With a wave of my hand, I canceled the spell on them.
A unanimous cry of, “Awwww,” went up around the room.
“Go play outside,” Penny told them, ignoring their dispirited tones, “and take Conall with you.” We watched them troop out of the room, and after they had closed the door she looked back at me. “I can’t believe you.”
“I didn’t intend to fall asleep…,” I began, but she interrupted me almost immediately.
“This isn’t about that Mort. We’re both human. How many near misses do you think I’ve had? I’m not immune to fatigue either. This is about your promise not to use magic on the children,” she explained.
“I don’t think that this really counts. I just reduced their mass so they could bounce about,” I responded with some relief. I had actually thought she’d be more upset about our falling daughter.
She stared agape at me. “Doesn’t count? Were you dropped on your head as a child… like our daughter nearly was? Our children were flying about the room like butterflies! How is that not using magic on them?”
Obviously it was too soon to count on her overlooking the falling child portion of the incident. I decided to forge on. “When we discussed the topic of magic, we agreed that we wouldn’t expose them to any potentially harmful magic,” I countered, “This wasn’t harmful, with the possible exception of them dropping Irene after I fell asleep.”
“How do you know? Does anyone know? No one has the faintest clue what sort of lingering effects magic may have. That is why we agreed that you wouldn’t use any magic upon the children, at least until they are adults,” her voice sounded somewhat exasperated.
Even so, that wasn’t how I remembered our past conversation. “Hold on, Penny, before you get too far into that. We agreed that we wouldn’t expose the children to any harmful magic, not shelter them from all magic. Do you really think I would do something that was intrinsically harmful to them?”
“You don’t always know what will be harmful and what won’t!”
My nap had put me in the mood for a debate. “Give me an example,” I retorted.
“Remember the rocks you used to ‘incapacitate’ the men that ambushed us on the road?” she shot back immediately.
I flinched at the memory, and I could see a flicker of guilt in her own eyes as she mentioned it. Years ago I had created a spell to send small rocks flying unerringly at the heads of enemies. My intention had been to knock them senseless, but the reality had turned out differently. My stones had struck with enough force to shatter their skulls. I had continued to use the spell after that, but only when my intention was to use lethal force. That first mistake was but one of several that still haunted me. “That wasn’t fair, Penny,” I warned.
“Fair can go hang! This is about our children, Mort. One mistake and we could be ex-parents. How ‘fair’ would that be?” she said heatedly before countering, “Name one use of magic that you think is completely harmless.”
“Healing,” I said immediately.
“Marcus,” she replied with one word.
I had long ago shared with her the effect of Millicenth’s choosing Marcus to be her avatar, though I still hadn’t told her about the more recent news… that it might be fatal. Somehow I didn’t think that would help my argument. “His addiction resulted from the abuse of the goddess, not merely the act of healing,” I replied.
The conversation devolved from there, and eventually we were forced to call a truce, a truce that hinged upon my agreeing to refrain from any further magic involving our offspring. I agreed reluctantly, but I was still sore on the topic when we went to bed that evening.