Fiendish Magic

by L. A. Sable

  “Feel free to move the party somewhere else,” I replied, voice heavy with sarcasm. “In fact, we can forget all about whatever is we’re doing right now.”

  “It has to be here,” Primrose declared with a withering look at the rest of us. “Now be quiet and help me get this set up.”

  I didn’t have any choice but to watch them take over my room like they owned the place, particularly since I had absolutely no idea what they were doing. Primrose had gone to the closet and pulled out an armful of candles and a jar of purified salt. I’d seen those things there earlier but assumed my room was being used for storage before arrived. Now, I wondered if they had been left there deliberately.

  Maeve and Amaranth knelt on the floor, completing an intricate pattern on the stone with pieces of chalk.

  “What is that?” I asked, even though I feared that I already knew the answer.

  “Exactly what it looks like.” Primrose walked around the room, placing candles in specific places that I suspected would form a shape in sacred geometry if I followed the pattern. “Or have you really never seen a protective circle before?”

  I rolled my eyes behind her back. “And why do we need a protective circle?”

  “Because it’s a very bad idea not to have one when you’re casting a summoning spell.”

  “I don’t think so.” I glared around the room as all three of them turned to stare at me. “You’re not summoning anything into the center of my room. No fucking way.”

  Visions of everything that could go wrong danced through my head. Summoning spells were unpredictable, even when cast by powerful witches. There was a good chance that nothing would show up, but it was also just as likely that a creature from the underworld would decide to arrive hours after the spell was cast and tear me apart in my sleep.

  “Juliette, I thought you wanted to be friends.” Primrose knelt on the floor at the northern point in the circle, expression sly. “We’ve waited years to find our fourth and complete the circle. You don’t want to disappoint us now.”

  Amaranth shoved past me hard enough to leave a bruise. “I told you she doesn’t have what it takes.”

  “She’s scared,” Maeve added as she sank down to the floor on the eastern point. “It’s pathetic, really.”

  “Perhaps this might tempt you.” Primrose reached behind her and pulled back a small book. A thrum of awareness rolled over me as I stared at its leather-bound cover, indecipherable words etched on it in dull copper.

  I had no idea where she’d been hiding it, but I liked to imagine she had it lodged firmly up her ass because something had to be stuck up there.

  But I couldn’t stop myself from leaning closer. “What is that?”

  Primrose held the book just out of reach as she watched me closely. “This is my family grimoire, one of the oldest in the world.”

  I’d never gotten within a mile of my family’s grimoire and I only knew it existed because my parents liked to hold my lack of access to it over my head. Every witch family had one, their grimoire was a closely guarded treasure because it held all the spells and incantations that were meant to be passed down through the generations. Some spells were considered family secrets, never to be shared outside of blood relatives.

  “Like I care,” I murmured, even though I already found myself shifting closer. “For all I know, that’s a fake.”

  Except I could already feel the tantalizing magic rising off the pages like a shift in the wind.

  “Only one way to find out,” Primrose replied with a shrug. “I believe in sharing knowledge with my coven. But if you’re not interested, feel free to go.”

  I didn’t bother to point out that this was my room.

  Unsure of precisely what drove me, I sank to my knees on the southern point of the circle, even as every cell in my body urged me to run. Primrose was planning something and there was no way it could be anything good, but my curiosity overwhelmed my common sense.

  “I assume you want something from me in return,” I said, watching as Primrose flipped open the grimoire and a shiver ran up my spine.

  “All you have to do is act as our fourth,” Primrose assured me, the smile on her face not quite reaching her eyes. “There are so many spells that won’t work with only three. It’s been a struggle to find someone strong enough.”

  I raised an eyebrow, doubt creeping back in. “You really expect me to believe that none of the other witches here would make a suitable fourth?”

  “We have lineage to consider, of course.” Amaranth carefully arranged the skirt of her dress over her legs as she sat on the floor. “Despite your deficiencies, the Darkward line can be traced back to the founding. That makes you the most suitable candidate.”

  “You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” I said with a sarcastic smile but she only glared back at me in response. “I’m no good at spellcraft, remember. What makes you think this we’ll even work?”

  “We need you more for balance than anything else.” Primrose set the open grimoire down in front of her, but it was too far away for me to make out any of the words on the page.

  The book was like a siren song. My fingers itched to touch it and I had to fight the urge to launch myself across the circle and grab it for myself. The dark voice that whispered through my mind, promising power, urged me to discover the secrets contained within it.

  My fingers clenched in my lap as I forced myself to ignore the terrible urge to leap into darkness.

  Primrose ran her finger along the gutter of the book and a shiver ran down my own spine as if that touch ran along my skin. I leaned closer but the writing on the page was practically illegible, spidery words twisted and faded on the aged paper. I could only just make out the title written in looping script at the top.

  A Spell for Summoning.

  Fear and desire tightened in my chest and set my heart to racing. I wanted to rip the grimoire from her hands and drown in its forbidden knowledge. But I also wanted to run away as fast as my legs could carry me.

  “We have to disrobe,” Primrose intoned.

  Disrobe? It took several precious seconds for me to comprehend her words. As soon as the meaning sank in, I realized that the others had already removed their shoes and began unbuttoning their dresses.

  “Is this really necessary?” I asked, exasperated. Witches had no taboos surrounding nudity, but I’d spent too much time around humans recently to be completely cavalier about it. As if I needed another reason to feel vulnerable around these bitches.

  “Magic is most powerful when there are no barriers between our bodies and the earth.” Amaranth made a point of maintaining eye contact with me as she stripped off her uniform, revealing that she hadn’t bothered with a bra or underwear, her gaze challenging. “Don’t tell us you’re embarrassed or is that rumor you were born with a deformity actually true?”

  Glaring back at her, I stripped off my uniform with enough force to tear the fragile lace at the collar. I didn’t bother to fold the offending garment and tossed it in the general direction of the bed. My underwear followed before I knelt back on the floor. And then I spent the next several minutes trying to ignore the fact that I was naked and kneeling on the floor of my room with the Three Fates.

  Primrose reached for the light switch and flipped it, plunging the room into near darkness. Only the moonlight shining through the uncovered window allowed me to make out the shadows of their movements around the circle.

  A cool wind that I hadn’t noticed before blew over my skin and a chill ran through the parts of me touching the stone floor. I was mostly trying to forget that I was stark naked, knowing that if I showed even a hint of embarrassment that it would just be another thing for them to mock.

  If my own mother were in this room right now, the only thing she’d have to say was Straighten your back or your breasts will sag.

  The furniture was placed against the walls in a way that left plenty of a room to draw a circle and I could only assume that was deliberate. Witches
drew circles for all sorts of reasons, casting their magic or even worship, but this would be something wholly different.

  Amaranth and Maeve sat to either side of me, knees gathered beneath them in perfect repose as if they couldn’t possibly be more comfortable. An unlit candle rested on the floor in front of each of them, one white and the other blue to represent the elements of air and water.

  Primrose stared at me from the other side of the circle, positioned in the northern position meant to represent earth. A black candle the length of my forearm was planted on the floor in front of her. Once that candle was lit, the circle would hold for as long as the flame still burned. Or that was the theory, at least.

  “You’re going to say the incantation.” She held the grimoire out to me, just far enough that I had to bend forward uncomfortably to take it. “Say the words exactly as they’re written.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from asking “Or what?”

  Instead of answering, Primrose just stared at me with one eyebrow raised. Her expression made it clear how stupid she found that particular question.

  But let’s be honest, she thought everything that came out of my mouth was stupid.

  The grimoire’s pages were thin and brittle underneath my fingers, as if the book would disintegrate into dust if handled too forcefully. That delicacy had to be an illusion, nothing this old would have lasted so long otherwise. My gaze scanned the words but I could barely pronounce most of them.

  “There is no way I’m going to say this right,” I informed them.

  “Stop stalling.” Amaranth’s voice was cutting. “We don’t have all night.”

  “Fine, I’d tell you not to get your panties in a twist if you were wearing any.” I bent to wrap my fingers around the thick glass bowl next to my knee. I pushed it towards Primrose with enough force that it skidded across the floor. “After you. I’m not spilling blood first.”

  Without another word, Primrose picked up the sharp knife that had been resting on the floor. She gave me a condescending smile before placing the blade against her open hand. “No more delays. The blood is no good unless it’s warm.”

  With a quick movement, she slashed into the meaty flesh of her palm. For a moment, the cut was only a stretch of white flesh, but then it slowly filled with dark blood that inched down her skin. She squeezed her injured hand into a tight fist and held it over the bowl, letting drops of red splatter into it one by one until a small pool formed.

  “Be careful with that,” Maeve murmured with a twisted smile. “Blood stains are impossible to get out of velvet.”

  “Be quiet or you’re next.” Primrose picked up the bowl with her good hand and set it in front of Amaranth. “Get on with it. I won’t bleed again if this dries up.”

  Amaranth picked up a set of matches and lit the small candle in front of her. She held her wrist up just over the flame, but then hesitated.

  Primrose bared her teeth in a silent growl as she wrapped a length of white around her still bleeding palm. I looked between them for a long moment, confused. Why were they all hesitating so much when they’re the ones who busted into my room to do this?

  Leaning back, I made a move to rise. “Why don’t we just do this another time?”

  “No,” Primrose snapped. “Continue the ritual. Now, Amaranth.”

  With a heavy sigh, Amaranth held her hand over the candle flame and slowly lowered it. Fire licked along her skin. She didn’t make a sound but the tightness of her lips and the way she squeezed her eyes shut made it clear that it hurt. After what had to be an excruciating minute, she yanked her hand away with a pained sound. “An offering of flesh.”

  Rolling her eyes, Primrose dipped her fingers in the bowl of fresh blood then flicked over the candle so droplets fell and sizzled on the flame. “An offering of blood.”

  Maeve picked up a bowl of dried chicken bones and placed them in front of her. She lit another match and dropped it into the bowl so a delicate tendril of smoke rose into the air. “An offering of bone.”

  I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Chicken bones, really? “And here I was hoping you’d dig out your clavicle.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Maeve slid the matchbox across the floor so it skittered to a stop in front of me. Only one match was left in the box. I already had a feeling what would happen next, even as I flicked the end hard against the box. Not even a spark. I tried again with enough force that flakes of red phosphorous floated to the ground in front of me. So much for not making a fool of myself.

  “There aren’t any more matches, are there?” I asked.

  “There are not,” Primrose replied, glaring at me. “Amaranth go and fetch more.”

  Fire burns inside you.

  Ignoring their contemptuous gazes as Amaranth rose to her feet, I wrapped both hands around the candle and lifted it close to my face. My lips brushed against the wick as I spoke.

  “An offering of spirit.”

  I exhaled softly, imagining that the air I breathed lived on as flame when I released it. Heat burned through my chest and up my throat as I exhaled, my eyes closing briefly at the intensity of the sensation.

  When my eyes opened, I held a lit candle in my hands.

  Amaranth made a soft gasp as she sank back down to the floor. Maeve stared at me like she’d never seen me before.

  “Impressive,” Primrose murmured, her gaze never leaving my face. “How did you do that?”

  No need to let them know that I had no fucking idea. “A lady doesn’t breathe fire and tell.”

  I set the candle down in the center of the circle, careful not to disturb the flame. It flickered and curled in the air despite the lack of wind, almost as if this small bit of fire had a mind of its own. I found myself staring at it for a beat too long until Primrose made an impatient sound.

  A strange shiver worked its way over my skin as I pulled my arms back. The circle was active, and I only hoped it was strong enough for whatever they had planned.

  Picking up the grimoire again, I opened it to the page that Primrose had marked. The words were unfamiliar and seemed to stick in my throat, making my voice sound guttural even to my own ears. With each word I spoke, pressure built around us, thick and creeping. This was a language of the underground, spoken by things that slunk in the dark to hide their movements from human senses and did not obey the laws of science or nature. Most of it was entirely beyond my ability to comprehend.

  A sharp wind picked up, carrying the scent of sulfur with it, despite the firmly closed doors and windows. The invisible breeze licked at the candle flames and rustled the pages of the book. My fingers gripped the grimoire tighter because I couldn’t risk losing my place. An incantation only half-spoken was a dangerous thing.

  Primrose cupped her hands around the flame of her candle to protect it from blowing out. She stared across the circle at me, with an almost crazed intent in her eyes. Amaranth and Maeve had shifted back from the edge of the circle as if trying to make themselves smaller.

  I took a deep breath and spoke the final word of summoning.

  A bruising pressure built in the surrounding air, robbing me of the ability to breathe and paralyzing my limbs. The grimoire dropped to the floor as my fingers went limp.

  Black smoke gathered at the center of the circle as we watched, none of us able to move against the bruising force holding us in place. It coalesced and shifted shape as it twisted into itself and begun to form a humanoid shape.

  I regained the ability to speak just as whatever we had summoned into this world finally appeared.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  The creature’s skin was a mottled gray and beaded like a reptile with random spots of red and purple along its back. It stood no higher than my waist if I was standing, but sitting on the floor its eyes were level with mind. As the thing turned to look at me with yellow eyes slitted like a cat’s, its mouth opened to reveal doubled rows of razor-sharp teeth. A red stripe ran down its belly like fresh paint, or fresh blood.
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br />   The thing circled the invisible cage of the circle, sniffing at the edges with a flattened snout and making angry growls as it realized it was trapped inside. It came closer to me and I fought the urge to scuttle backwards, not wanting to show fear to this hell creature or the bitchy witchy posse. I prayed the circle would hold as the demon sidled closer and a long forked tongue rolled out of its mouth as it growled.

  “It’s an imp,” Primrose answered smoothly, in response to my gasped question. “I had hoped for something more savage, but this will have to do.”

  I didn’t understand what was happening until it was too late. Amaranth and Maeve bent to blow out the candles, breaking the circle. Energy rippled along my skin as whatever magic keeping the demon contained dissipated.

  Primrose snuffed out her own candle flame with the tips of her fingers. Her other hand reached for the bowl of her own blood and threw it at me, drenching me in the sticky remains of her circle offering.

  Then all three of them backed away to the far side of the room.

  Like a hound that had just caught the scent of an injured animal, the demon slowly turned toward me. It took a step forward, letting out a low growl as it stepped over the edge of the broken circle, realizing that it had been freed.

  “Summoned creatures almost always attack the person who calls them forth,” Primrose said as the imp advanced on me, slobber glistening on its razor-sharp teeth. “You never should have come here, apostate. Hopefully, the imp will make it quick.”

  They were going to watch me die.

  The imp growled and dropped on all fours as it slowly advanced. I shifted slowly backwards, knowing that any sudden movements would only make it attack more quickly. Not that I had much time left, regardless.

  Not for the first time, I cursed my inability to manage even the more basic spells. And even the power that I did have wasn’t in my control. There was nothing more I could do than sit here and wait to die.

  When the imp lurched forward with its teeth bared, I covered my eyes with my hands and screamed. “Don’t.”

  One moment passed, and then another. It didn’t feel like I was being attacked. Finally, I peeked with one eye to see the imp still standing in front of me with its mouth hanging open. But it didn’t seem at all interested in posing a threat, and stared into my face with what almost looked like fascination.