by Ким Харрисон
"You going to set a circle?" he asked, looking slightly nervous, and when I nodded, he added, "I'll… um, watch from the windowsill."
Hiding my smile, I moved all my stuff to the other side of the island counter so I could both work and see him. "It's a medicinal spell," I explained. "Why take chances?"
Jenks gave me a mild, "Ummm." I knew he didn't like seeing me under the influence of a line. He said it was because there was a shadow on my aura that wasn't there the rest of the time. I didn't like it because my hair got staticky, moving in the wind that always seemed to be blowing in the ever-after.
My pulse quickened in anticipation, and I glanced at the clock. It was way before midnight—lots of time. You could work white magic after midnight, but why push your luck? Grabbing a handful of salt, I sprinkled it over the line etched in the linoleum.
Jenks's wings shifted fitfully. When I stretched out my awareness to touch the small, underused ley line running through the graveyard out back. My breath came in fast, but by the time I had exhaled, the energy flow was balanced. A faint tingling in my fingertips and a heavy sensation in my middle told me my chi was full, and I didn't pull more off the line to spindle in my head. I wouldn't need more than this to work the spell.
Uncomfortable, I wiggled my shoulders as if trying to fit into a new skin. It used to be that it took several moments for the strength to equalize. Practice had shaved it to almost nothing. My hair was floating already. I tried to flatten it, and my skin prickled where my muscles flexed. If I cared to, I could open my second sight and actually see the ever-after superimposed on reality, but it gave me the creeps.
"Whoops," I said, remembering I didn't have my candle lit yet, and went to the gas stove to get a burner going. Using a bamboo skewer, I lit the vanilla-scented candle I cleared the air with when I burned something. I shook the stick out and carefully carried the candle to the center counter, where it flickered in the muggy breeze coming in the window.
A last look at the instructions to be sure I had everything at the counter, and I kicked off a sandal. "Where's your cat, Jenks?" I said, not wanting to trap her in with me.
He took to the air. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…"he called, and with a chirping trill, her orange face appeared at the hall archway. She was licking her lips, but Jenks wasn't troubled.
"Rhombus," I said softly, touching my toe to the salt circle. The single word of Latin invoked a hard-won series of mental exercises that condensed the five-minute prep and invocation of setting a circle into an instant. I stifled a jerk as the circle closed with a snap. Jenks's wings whirled as a molecule-thin sheet of ever-after rose up between us to keep any influences out while I worked the medicinal-class ley line charm. I was impulsive, not stupid.
Rex padded in, rubbing against the barrier as if it were covered in catnip. I'd take that as a sign that she might want to be my familiar—if she didn't run every time I tried to pick her up.
I grimaced at the ugly black sheen of demon smut crawling over my bubble, discoloring the usual cheerful gold of my aura. It was a visual display of the imbalance I carried on my soul, a reminder of the debt I owed for having twisted reality so far out of alignment that I could become a wolf and Jenks grew to human size. The discoloration was nothing compared to the thousand years of demon-curse imbalance that Ceri carried, but it bothered me.
All but the smallest amount of ever-after energy I had tapped had gone into maintaining the circle, but there was the tingle of a new buildup of force filtering in. It would continue to grow until I let go of the line completely. Many witches were said to have gone insane from trying to stretch what their chi could hold by allowing the pressure to build beyond what they could safely contain, but when my chi overflowed, I could spindle the line energy in my head. Demons could do the same, and their familiars. Ceri and I were the only two people this side of the lines who could spindle line energy. That we had survived Al with the knowledge intact hadn't been the demon's intent. Ceri had taught me the basics, but Al was the one who'd stretched my tolerances and made the skill second nature—by way of an excruciating amount of pain.
"Ah, Rachel?" Jenks said, green-tinted sparkles slipping from him to pool in the sink. "It's worse than usual."
My good mood vanished, and I frowned at the demon smut. "Yeah, well, I'm trying to get rid of it," I muttered, then pulled my sketched pentagram forward.
Taking up a stone crucible I had bought at a ley line shop up in Mackinaw, I set it in the lowest space between the bottom of the pentagram and the circle surrounding it. Fingers still touching it, I murmured, "Adaequo," to set it in place and give its presence meaning.
I felt a small surge from the line and twitched. Oh, it was one of those spells. Great.
My nose tickled. I stiffened, realizing I hadn't brought any tissue in with me. "Oh, no," I said, my voice rising. Jenks looked panicked, and I sneezed. He was laughing when I brought my head up. Looking frantically for something to wipe my nose with, I settled on a scratchy paper towel, managing to tear off twice what I needed and getting it to my face just in time for the follow-up sneeze. Crap, I had to finish this spell fast.
The big-ass, symbolic knife I had gotten at Findley Market from a cheerful woman went in the center space with the words me auctore, and a feather was given meaning when I placed it with the strength of lenio in the lower left-hand leg of the star. My nose was starting to tickle again, and I hurriedly checked the textbook.
"Iracundia," I said, holding my breath as I set Jenks's dandelion in the other leg of the star. All that was left was the candle.
The force in me had been building with every word, and with my eye twitching I set the blessed candle carefully in the topmost section of the star, hoping it wouldn't fall over and spill wax on my chalkboard so I'd be spending tomorrow cleaning it with toluene. This one wouldn't be set with a place-name until I lit it, and with that in mind, I plucked the bamboo skewer from where I had left it, setting it aflame again from the vanilla candle.
Wiping my free hand on my jeans, I shifted from foot to foot and transferred the flame to the blessed candle. "Evulgo," I whispered, wincing as a surge came in from the line. My eyes widened. Oh, God, I was going to sneeze again. I didn't want to know what it might do to my spell if it wasn't cast yet.
I moved fast. Grabbing the feather, I dropped it into the crucible. I snatched up the knife, and before I could get uptight about the ugly symbolism, I pricked my thumb and squeezed out three drops of blood. I would rather have used one of my finger sticks, but ley line magic was based on symbolism, and it made a difference.
The knife went back into its little spot, and I peered at the text, thumb in my mouth so I didn't get blood all over the place. "Non sum qualis eram," I said, remembering it from another spell. Must be a generic phrase for invocation.
My urge to sneeze vanished, and I jerked in surprise when the crucible was engulfed in flame. There was a whoosh, accompanied by twang through me. The cheerful red-and-orange flames flashed to a weird gold and black that matched my damaged aura—and went out.
Wide-eyed, I pulled my gaze from the soot-blackened crucible to Jenks, hovering over the sink. There wasn't anything in the bowl but a smear of ash stinking of burnt vegetation.
"Was that what was supposed to happen?" he asked.
Like I know? "Uh, yeah," I said, pretending to look at the text. "See, I'm not sneezing."
I took a careful breath through my nose, then another, more relaxed one. My shoulders eased, and I let myself smile. I loved it when I learned something new.
"Good," Jenks grumbled, taking to the air to hover before the bubble, still up and running. " 'Cause I'm not getting rid of my cat."
With a small thought, I broke my connection with the ley line. The circle vanished, and Jenks flew in to land next to the crucible, his tiny features wrinkled in distaste. Content, I closed the textbook and started to clean up my mess before Ivy got home. "I told you I wasn't…" My words cut off as my nose started to tickle. "I'm not…
" I started again, feeing my eyes widen. Jenks stared at me, horror in his expression.
Eyes watering, I waved helplessly. "Achoo!" I exclaimed, hunching over, my hair falling to hide my face. It was followed by another, then another. Ah, crap, I'd made things worse.
"The Turn take it," I gasped between sneezes. "I know I did it right!"
"Ivy's got some pills," Jenks said. I could hear his wings, but I was too busy try ing to catch my breath to look at him. He sounded worried. I knew I was. "In her bathroom," he added. "Maybe they'll help."
I bobbed my head, then sneezed again. Ivy had caught a cold last spring when we'd come back from Michigan. She had moped around the church for three days, coughing and blowing her nose—snarling at me every time I suggested making her a charm. She had taken pills with her orange juice every afternoon.
My breath came in little pants, and my nose tickled. Crap. Lurching to the hallway, I sneezed again. "I'm not allergic to cats," I said while I groped to turn the light on. My reflection looked terrible, my hair all over the place and my nose running. I opened the cupboard, uncomfortable rummaging in her things.
"This one!" Jenks said, tugging at a thin amber vial.
I sneezed three more times while I fumbled to get the stupid thing open, trying to read that I was to take two pills every four hours. Why in hell had I tried to use ley line magic? I should have known better than to self-administer a medicinal charm. The aides in Emergency were going to laugh their asses off if I had to go in for a counterspell.
I stared at Jenks. My eyes widened; another sneeze was coming, and it felt like a big one. Not using water, I took two pills, looking at the ceiling and trying to swallow them.
"Water, Rache!" Jenks said, hovering over the tap. "You gotta take them with water!"
Waving him out of my way, I swallowed them down dry, grimacing. And, like magic, the urge to sneeze vanished.
Not believing it, I took a breath, then another. Jenks was having a fit over the wax cups, so I filled one, dutifully swallowing the lukewarm water to feel the pills slide down. "Damn!" I swore in admiration. "Those are great. Caught it midsneeze." I set the cup down to pick up the vial, turning it over to read the label. "How much are these anyway?"
Jenks's wings clattered, he and his reflection slowly falling. "They don't work that fast."
I glanced at him. "Really?"
He looked worried, his feet gently touching the counter and his wings stilled. He took a breath to say something, but a soft pop jerked both our heads up. My pulse went into overdrive, and I felt someone tap the line out back. It startled me, and, gasping, I fell into Ivy's black porcelain toilet, slipping. I went down with a little shriek, and my butt met the tile. "Ow," I said, holding my elbow where it hit something.
"Witch!" a resonant voice echoed, and I tossed my hair aside, taking in the robed figure in the threshold. "Why, by Cormel's gonads, does my coffee taste like dandelions!"
Ah, crap, it was Minias.
Twelve
"Get out, Jenks!" I shrieked, scrambling up.
Minias swooped into Ivy's bathroom, his smooth face creased in irritation. Panicking, I pressed into a fluffy black towel hanging between the commode and the tub. "Don't touch me!" I shouted, then flung the contents of Ivy's pill vial at him.
With a twang, I felt him set a circle. Jenks was at the ceiling shouting something, and the little white pills bounced harmlessly against Minias's black sheet of ever-after.
I had to get out! There were too many pipes and wires in here to set a demonproof circle.
"What the hell?" Minias said, his goat-slitted eyes confused as he picked up a pill and looked at it. He had broken his circle to do it, and, scrambling, I grabbed Ivy's hairspray.
"Get out of my church!" I shouted, spraying him.
Orange-scented detangler hit Minias square in the eyes. Yelping, he stumbled backward into the hall to hit the dark walls. Arms and legs askew, he slipped to the floor. I didn't wait to see if he was down. I'd seen enough movies to know better.
Pulse hammering, I lurched out over him. He grunted as my foot hit something, and I gasped when he went misty and my foot slipped through him and found the floor.
My hands touched the walls to pull me forward, and I ran for the kitchen. I had a circle there, still set with salt. Jenks was a blur of gold dust ahead of me.
"Look out!" he shouted, and I went down, my feet pulled from under me.
Memories of Al poured through me. I couldn't go back there. I couldn't be someone's plaything. I silently fought, kicking at anything, my years of martial arts forgotten.
"What is wrong with you!" Minias said, then grunted when my sandal hit something tender. He went misty, his grip falling away.
I pulled myself forward, almost crawling across the kitchen until the expanse of my circle was between us. Minias was close behind. "Rhombus!" I shouted, tapping the line and slapping my hand on the line etched in the linoleum.
Ever-after coursed in. Fear caused my control to slip, and more power than I liked raced through me, hurting. The circle went up, and Minias ran smack into the interior wall of it.
"Ow!" the demon exclaimed, purple robes furling as he fell back against the island counter. Hand over his nose, he looked at the smut crawling over my bubble. His hat had fallen off, and he glared at me from under his curls, turning almost choleric when he realized that his nose was bleeding. "You broke my nose!" he exclaimed, bright red demon blood pouring forth.
"So fix it," I said, shaking. He was in a circle. He was in my circle. I took a breath, then another. Slowly I pulled my legs under me and stood, cold despite the warmth of the night.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked again, clearly furious as a sheet of ever-after slithered over him. He took his hand from his nose to show that the blood was gone.
"Me?" I said, burning off some angst. "You said you'd call first, not just barge in!"
"I did call!" Minias roughly adjusted his robes. "You never answered, and then," he shouted, flicking a finger under my expensive chalkboard to make it hit the floor, "instead of a simple 'I'm busy could you call back again later,' you slam the door in my face! I want this mark between us settled. You are rude, ill-mannered, and as ignorant as a toad!"
"Hey!" Face warming, I leaned to look around the counter to find that my board had cracked. "You broke my chalkboard!" Then I hesitated, drawing back with my arms over my chest. "You were the one making me sneeze?" I said, and he nodded. "I'm not allergic to cats?" I looked at Jenks, elated. "Jenks! I'm not allergic to cats!"
Minias crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. "Ignorant as a toad. Rude as an unwanted guest. Al is a saint for putting up with you, the novelty of your blood aside."
Jenks was shooing his kids from the window, assuring them we were all right and to not tell their mother. "Me… rude?" I stammered, tugging my shirt back down where it belonged when Minias's gaze slid to my midriff. "I'm not the one just showing up!"
"I said I would call first." His demon eyes narrowed. "I didn't promise it. And I'm not the one flinging pills and mace," he added, scooping up his hat and jamming it on his head. His curls were sticking out all over, and damn me to hell if he didn't look good like that. Immediately I sobered. No, no, Rachel. Bad girl. And remembering what Ivy had told me this spring about my needing the threat of death to prove to myself that I was alive, I quickly shoved aside any idea that Minias was attractive. But he was.
Minias saw my anger fizzle, and, clearly used to dealing with volatile females, he dropped his gaze. When it returned to me, he was visibly calmer, though no less angry. "I apologize for startling you," he said formally. "Obviously you thought you had something to fear, and grabbing you probably wasn't the best idea."
"Damn right it wasn't," I said, jumping when Jenks landed on my shoulder. "And don't try to sell me any crap about the kindly demon. I know three of you now, and you are all evil, insane, or just plain nasty."
Minias smiled, but it didn't make me feel any
better. His eyes drifted over the inside of my bubble. "I'm not kindly, and if I could get away with it, I'll drag you into the ever-after and have someone broker you off—but Newt would get involved…" He shifted his eyes to focus on me. "She doesn't remember you right now. I would like to keep it that way."
"Tink's little red thong," Jenks whispered, grabbing my ear for balance. Stomach clenched, I retreated until I found the fridge, the stainless steel cold through my thin chemise.
"With this debt standing between us without even a mark to keep things tidy, taking you would be in bad taste." Minias tugged his sleeves down over his wrists. "Once I grant whatever stupid wish you want, I won't have to restrain myself, but until then you're relatively safe."
My chin lifted. Bastard. He had scared me on purpose. I didn't feel bad now at all for burning his eyes, or stomping on his privates, or for him running into my bubble. And I wasn't going to trust that until we settled this I was immune to him.
"Jenks," I said softly as Minias looked over my kitchen, "will you send one of your kids to get Ceri?" She was likely over her pique at my sorry-ass ley line skills. And I didn't want to do this without her.
"I'll go," he said. "They aren't allowed to leave the garden." My neck went cold in the breeze on his wings, and he hovered, his angular features pinched. "You'll be okay?"
I watched Minias touch the herbs drying on the overhanging rack, wanting to tell him to get his fingers off them. "I'll be fine," I said. "He's in a good circle."
Minias's eyes followed Jenks zipping out with an unusual amount of interest. Looking mildly annoyed, he scuffed his bare feet against the linoleum, and a pair of embroidered slippers appeared on them. Slowly his brow smoothed under his brown curls. I fixed on the alienness of his eyes, trying to see the sideways pupil beside the dark iris. His back against the counter, he crossed his ankles and waited. Beside him was my spell to stop sneezing, and I didn't like the patronizing look he had favored me with after giving the pentagram a cursory glance.