by Kim Harrison
“You might lose it?” Felix exclaimed, his alarm sparking my own fear. “Give it to me! Now!”
“I’ll lose it if you interrupt me or take the scarf off your face before I tell you to.”
Stark fear marred Felix’s young face, giving me a glimpse of what he might have been. Cormel shot me a look to be more gentle before he leaned over Felix and patted him on the shoulder. “She won’t lose it, Felix,” he said, reminding me that for all their casual disregard for the lives of those they destroyed, they had a weird sense of protection for those they deemed worthy of it. That their children seldom entered that category was indecipherable vampire logic.
Trent leaned over me, the lingering scent of ever-after obvious. “I should do the charm. You’re better at defense than I am,” he said, almost breathing the words.
Jenks’s wings were clattering in worry, and I wished he’d park it somewhere. “No,” I said, thinking back to Trent’s numb shock of capturing Felix’s soul. I was the demon here. I could do it. “As long as no one interrupts me and he doesn’t remove the cloth until I say, it should be fine.” Chin rising, I looked over the room, not liking how many people were in here. “I need to anoint anyone who’s staying in the room with spider silk so his freed soul isn’t attracted to them. I’ve only got a few strands.”
Jenks rose up, arms crossed. “I don’t need any. No vampire soul will find me.”
Cormel gestured at his thugs, and I breathed easier until I realized all of them were heading out, leaving just him to maintain control of Felix. And the bastard smiled at my unease. “Kalamack?” he said, almost taunting. “Are you staying?”
My pulse quickened. Rule number one: never be alone with a master vampire. Misunderstandings were often fatal. “He’s my spotter in case I need help.”
“You are unsure of the charm?” Cormel said, and I lifted my chin, thoughts of Landon’s inexperience and hidden agenda warring in me. The man wanted me dead. What in hell was I doing trusting that his greed for recognition would keep me safe?
“I’ve never done it before,” I said, my unease coming out as anger. “Trent is here in case there’s a snag. Got a problem with that?”
“Can we get on with this?” Felix growled, and Trent pulled his spelling cap out, hastily arranging it on his head before pulling his ribbon from a pocket like a magician. Draping it around his neck he sat down, his ankle going to his knee and settling back to look confident and unmoving. Buddy trotted out from the kitchen, and no one said anything as he flopped down at Trent’s feet with a happy sigh. Trent gave Cormel a mute look, daring him to protest.
“Begin,” Cormel said sourly.
My fingers shook as I unfolded Ivy’s borrowed black silk scarf, the strands of this morning’s spiderweb in it. It had been hard to find this late in the year, impossible if not for Jenks. Still kneeling, I draped the first strand over Trent’s shoulder. “Thank you for staying,” I said, starting when he unexpectedly took my hand, eyes pleading.
“I should do this. It was my idea to trust Landon.”
“Yeah, let him,” Jenks said, and Buddy sneezed from the pixy dust.
But something in the feel of his hands about mine said he wasn’t worried about Landon. It was something else. “And have Cormel say I didn’t fulfill my agreement?” I said, and Cormel cleared his throat impatiently. “No.” I slipped from Trent’s hands, feeling a tingle pull all the way through me. “Jenks? Here.”
The pixy’s chin lifted, and I stared at him until he dropped down and tweaked a tiny piece from Trent’s strand. “Happy now?” he barked at me, and I stood.
“Ecstatic.” My mood worsened as I looked at Cormel. “Sir?” I said, holding out the scarf. I wasn’t going to get any closer to him than I needed to.
Motions slow, he took a long strand and draped it across the buttonhole of his coat. He still hadn’t taken off his coat, and his suit under it looked expensive and exquisite, the kind that Trent had once worn all the time.
There was one strand left, and I carefully plucked it free, intending to put it on my hair.
“What about the dog, Rache?”
Crap on toast, what about Bis still hiding at the ceiling? Lips pressed, I broke it in two, holding the larger strand out. “Here, you give it to him,” I said, eyes going to Bis in the kitchen. “I don’t think he likes me yet.”
Jenks’s gaze was crafty, dust sparkling as he dropped down. Wings clattering, he took it, darting first to Buddy and then the kitchen, pretending to get another dollop of peanut butter before rising up to give the last strand to Bis.
Cormel was frowning, and my stomach clenched. The world was going to change again. I should have worn nicer shoes.
I took a deep breath and reached out my awareness, laying a mental finger, as it were, upon the nearest ley line. My sour expression melted away as the energy flowed through me and back to the earth, connecting me to all things. It was akin to a warm bath, a shot of tequila, and an hour’s massage, easing my tension and instilling in me the confidence of past spells. Feeling the first hints of a soothing numbness, I began to spill the salt into a pentagram.
As if pulled from the energy flow itself, the beating of drums seemed to rise in my memory, making my motions sure and steady as I felt as if I was drawing on the skill of all of those who had come before me. Landon hadn’t said anything about the elven chant coming into play this soon, but it felt right, and I let it flow through my actions. Ta na shay. See me. See me recognize you.
A gentle warmth from the line tingled through me, my fingers no longer cold and slow. With a sudden shock, I recognized the faint feeling of lassitude slipping into me and I jerked from it. My smooth motion pouring salt bobbled. A tiny slip of sand marred my perfect pattern, and I froze. Felix jerked as my fear hit him. I didn’t need the Goddess’s help for this, and alarm that I might fall under her sway this easily was a shock.
“Rachel,” Trent pleaded, and I shook my head.
“I’m fine,” I said as I finished my pattern, not knowing why Jenks was hovering so close. He’d seen me spell worse charms than this. Besides, I was entirely hidden from the Goddess, even if I should stand on the highest tower and shout for her. I was alone, and it hurt after being a part of something so much bigger than myself.
Trent’s hand found mine, and I gave it a quick squeeze to tell him I was okay. He always seemed to know when I thought of the mystics. They’d let me see around corners and almost through time. Giving them up had bought Newt’s silence, so I knew they were real, my blackmail going both ways as my silence protected her as well.
I exhaled as the last of the salt went hissing down. The lines of the pentagram took on a faint glow in the glare of the overhead light. Satisfied, I reached for the aspen sap. The grinding feel of the glass stopper was familiar, and I didn’t set the stopper down as I touched the stylus to it. The thin rod had cost almost as much as the sap itself and was guaranteed to be from the same Colorado field the sap had been taken from: a thousand trees, but one genetic organism. It was a potent symbol. Souls were as unique as trees, but they all sprang from the same source, the same beginning.
Trent whispered for Jenks to back off as I anointed the two feet of the pentagram. His dust burned, and I looked up at the jolt of connection to the rising spell, blinking at Felix’s shiny dress shoes parked on the arm of the short couch.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my spellbound voice coming out almost as a croak. “Can you take off his shoes and socks, please?”
Young face drawn up in affront, Felix wiggled until he sat up. “You forgot?” He looked at Cormel. “Cormel, her skills are inadequate. She failed to fix it to me in the ever-after, and she will fail now.”
Cormel was already moving to Felix’s feet since Trent was obviously not going to do it. “Dear Felix,” he soothed. “Your soul was unable to bind to you because you were in Nina. Morgan will do this, or she and Ivy are forfeit. Lie back down.”
The drums seemed to fade at Felix’s voice, and
I took a cleansing breath. The stylus in my hand glistened at the tip. “Shoes? Socks?”
Cormel was untying them even as Felix protested. “It’s my soul. This demon witchery is unnecessary. Make her let it out of the bottle. It won’t harm me. It won’t harm anyone!”
One shoe was gently removed, but as Cormel slipped his sock from him, Felix’s expression became nasty. “You stole it!” he shouted, erratic, as if Cormel were taking his defenses from him, not just his socks. “You took it from me. Give it back!”
“She found it for you, Felix.” Cormel unlaced Felix’s other shoe, keeping his ankles tied with knots made secure from long knowledge. “It would be Nina who would have your soul otherwise.” His other sock was pulled from him, and Felix whimpered. “Remember?” Cormel said as he put a hand on his chest and forced him down. “You were in Nina in the everafter. Sit back. Don’t take the scarf from your eyes when she puts it there.”
Damn it, if Felix didn’t cooperate, it wasn’t going to work and I’d be left with nothing. My gaze went to the covered windows. Sunrise was eight hours off, too short a period of time to do much of anything if this should fail.
But Felix had gone still in waiting, his feet pale next to the stark blackness of the hem of his pants. They looked cold and too soft for all the people he’d trod upon. They reminded me of Al’s hands outside his gloves, vulnerable and revealing, always hidden.
“Keep him still,” I warned as I leaned across the space to touch the rod to the underside of his arches and made him jump. I wondered if he’d have any regret when his soul returned. I knew lots of people who felt no regret for the people they’d hurt, and they had souls.
Leaning back, I caught sight of Trent’s tense worry. He regretted. He had guilt. I’d seen him more than once in the early hours of a sunless morning, sitting beside the bed, waiting for me to wake and tell him with a smile that he wasn’t a bad person.
The choices we make, I thought as I cracked the hummingbird egg with my thumbnail before dropping it into a ceramic dish. Landon hadn’t said what to use, and ceramic was as neutral as glass. Damn it, I didn’t even know if I was doing this right. Jaw clenched, I used the sap-soiled stylus to dab the egg white of binding on the black scarf.
Immediately the line I was holding seemed to refine itself, the energy feeling more potent as it narrowed to my desires. I was doing it right, and that scared me even more. The phantom drums in my head pounded, and I shivered, wishing to remain hidden even as the chant called attention to me.
“Is it supposed to be glowing like that?” Jenks whispered, shushed by Trent.
“Show me your palms, please,” I whispered, head down as the spell wavered over my skin as if looking for someone to soak into.
“Is that my soul?” Felix said, voice high as he wiggled.
“Soon,” I breathed. The magic filled me, slowed my muscles. “Show me your hands.”
He did, and I dabbed them, my heart pounding in time with the drums. Ta na shay rose through me, even as I desperately wanted to hide.
Blood, I thought, fear slicing through the drum-borne lethargy. I needed a drop of undead blood. My head snapped up, and Jenks darted back, shocked at my worried expression. “Ah, I need a drop of his blood,” I said, flicking a look at Felix.
“My blood?” Felix snarled, and I drew back as Cormel moved to get between us.
“Felix,” he coaxed, his thick fingers looking odd against Felix’s young body as he forced him to stay down. “It’s for your soul. Just a drop so it can find you. Let me. From your thumb,” he suggested, and I nodded. I didn’t want to risk contaminating the connection on his palms, but his thumb should be okay. I guess. God help me do this right, I thought as I rummaged in my bag for a finger stick. I didn’t know what was on that knife Cormel had used to cut Felix’s gag. One by one, Felix was losing his bonds.
I pushed the finger stick across the glass table to Cormel. He picked it up, clearly already knowing how it worked. The snap of it opening was familiar, and Felix held out his bound hands, never taking his mistrustful gaze from Cormel as he pricked his thumb. Felix hissed as the master vampire retreated, careful to not get any blood on himself.
Buddy began to snore, immune to everything now that he was home and his stomach was full. Bis was creeping down the wall beside the door, and Cormel frowned, noticing him when a nail scraped.
This is for Ivy, I thought as I got to my feet. Reaching across the distance, I touched the wand to Felix’s thumb before pressing it to the top of the silk pentagram. My knees wobbled as the energy flow sharpened to a crystalline hum. The spell was ready. I only had to finish it.
But the beauty of the lines, clouded until I found this very moment, was hard to look past, and I blinked a tear away, shaken. I hadn’t seen them like this since losing the mystics. The reminder hurt. I could see evidence of their passage all around me, but they couldn’t see me. Perhaps the punishment was fitting.
“Trent, stop this,” Jenks protested, and I bowed my head, shaky hand raised to tell Cormel I wasn’t backing out of it. Breath held to hide the heartache of what I’d lost, I touched the rod to Felix’s forehead.
“Close your eyes,” I said, and Felix did. His lips closed over his fangs, and the blackness in his eyes was hidden. He looked normal, frightened, and hopeful to the point of pain. He exhaled and didn’t breathe again, and I felt the magic beginning to rise in the room, prickling along my thumb until I rubbed it out. By the prickling of my thumb . . .
“Trent . . . ,” Jenks whined, his wings making an odd sound.
“It’s perfect,” I said again, breathless and disoriented as I turned back to the charm, confident Felix wouldn’t move for fear of losing his coming soul. “I’m fine,” I echoed, breathing in time with the drums. Why are my fingertips tingling?
“Cormel?” Felix called, eyes opening and panicked. “Why am I bound!”
“Peace,” Cormel said, and Felix dropped back with a whimper.
I shivered as Cormel whispered the word. I could feel Trent behind me as I rolled the black cloth into a cord and wove it through the Möbius strip. As each inch scraped through, it was as if another layer of dross peeled from the lines and my connection deepened. My head hung, and I dropped the metal band to clank against the table. Dizzy with knowing, I shook the salt out. I didn’t think my eyes were open. I couldn’t tell—sparkles blocked my vision.
“You okay, Rache?”
I blinked fast. It was Jenks. I could tell because his dust was a frightened black, and the rest of the sparkles were a white so pure they were painful.
“Fine,” I said, blinking again, and suddenly the sparkles were gone. It had just been the spilled salt on the table that I’d been looking at. “I’m fine.”
Oh God, everything was transparently sparkly, as if I was going to get a migraine. Black cloth in hand, I found Felix’s expression, hopeful and longing. “It may make you walk into the sun,” I warned, and Cormel stiffened.
“I don’t care,” he moaned. “Finish it!”
Someone was holding my elbow, and I shook as I covered the vampire with the shroud of finding. That same someone handed me a bottle, and I recognized Trent’s slim fingers as I stood and peeled the wax cover off.
“Stay with me, Rachel,” Trent said softly, drawing me back, and like a breath exhaled on a winter night, a haze pulled from the bottle as I wove it through the air over Felix, his soul remaining still as the bottle slipped away from around it.
“Cormel?” Felix whimpered, sounding like a lost child.
How can a spiderweb fend off an angry soul?
“I’m with you,” Cormel said as he stood over him, envy and jealousy in the slant to his eyes as he gripped Felix’s shoulder.
I’d be lucky to escape with this one task, I mused, hazy as the elven drums became my entire world. Tislan, tislan. Ta na shay cooreen na da wove through my mind, tingling over my skin, soaking in until it found my chi and sent my blood moving to its cadence. I watched in awe as th
e hazy presence slipping from the bottle grew, the last of it joining the rest like water. My eyes closed, and vertigo took me.
Tislan, tislan. Ta na shay cooreen na da wove through my breath, and the freed soul pulled strength from the salt, growing more substantial. Landon had been wrong. The Möbius strip hadn’t balanced the spell. It had charged the salt, and I watched the soul pull it in, becoming stronger.
“It’s close,” Felix groaned, and Cormel pressed him into the couch, keeping him unmoving. “Cormel, I can feel it!”
“I can see it,” Cormel said in awe, and Felix’s bound hand rose to his face.
“Don’t let him move!” I shouted, and the spirit recoiled at the echoes of my voice. “Hold him. It’s searching!”
“Holy mother toad piss,” Jenks swore, but the first feelings of doubt trickled through me. It wasn’t going for Felix. It wasn’t finding him. Why? I’d done it right. I knew it to be right!
Ta na shay. Ta na shay. The chant swirled through me, but I felt the soul lose interest and begin to fade as the power of the salt was spent. It was returning to the ever-after. I’d seen this with Kisten, and my panic flared, making Cormel’s eyes flash to black. It wasn’t the charm that was failing, it was me. I needed the Goddess, and though I was saying the words, my heart wished for the opposite.
Oh God, I was going to have to call on the Goddess.
“Cormel!” Felix screamed, and Cormel forced him down, his eyes fixed to mine.
“I will tear her apart, carefully held dream by carefully held dream,” he threatened. “It will not be fast, and I will enjoy every minute of it.”
Oh God, I had to do this.
Hear me! I screamed into the line, silver and pure as thought itself. See what I do! Lend me your skill. Ta na shay cooreen na da!
“Oh no,” Trent breathed, and the humming of Jenks’s wings dissolved in the thrum of the eternity bound in the cracks between worlds.
Tislan, tislan. Ta na shay cooreen na da, I begged, thinking of Ivy. I could not fail her. What happened to me didn’t matter. Ta na shay. Ta na shay, I begged, letting the line take me as I looked for the bright sparkling thoughts of the mystics.