Ким Харрисон - For a Few Demons More стр 13.

The elf caught her alarm fast, but not so fast I didnt see it. Shes fine, she said, getting up and fumbling for the chalk on the table. Rachel, youre fine. Just sit tight. Dont move.

Frightened, I did exactly that, listening to my heart pound as she drew a circle inside her original one and invoked the more secure barrier immediately. My smut-damaged aura had colored my reflection, and I tried not to look at it. The click of the chalk hitting the table was loud, and Ceri sat across from me, her legs tucked under her and her back straight. Continue, she said, and I hesitated.

That wasnt supposed to happen, I said, and she met my eyes, a hint of shame in them.

Youre fine, she said, looking away. When I did this so I might screen Als calls, I wasnt making such a deep connection. I erred in not making a secure circle. Im sorry.

It was hard for the proud elf to apologize, and, knowing that, I accepted it with no lingering feelings of I told you so. I didnt know what in hell I was doing, so it wasnt as if I could expect her to get it all right. But I was glad I had insisted on a circle. Very glad.

I turned my gaze back to the mirror, trying to keep my focus shallow so I wouldnt look at my reflection. I felt dizzy without my aura, unreal, and my stomach was knotting. The scent of burnt amber rose to tickle my nose as I drew the lines of containment, and I squinted, seeing the faint haze of smoke on both sides of the glass where the yew was burning the mirror. Its supposed to do that, right? I asked, and Ceri murmured something positive-sounding.

The red curtain of my loose hair blocked my view, but I heard her whisper something to Jenks, and the pixy flew to her. I shivered, feeling naked without my aura. I kept trying not to glance into the mirror as I scribed, the haze of my aura looking like a mist or glow around my dark shadow of a reflection. The once-cheerful pure gold color of my aura had been tainted with an overlaying black of demon smut. Actually, I thought as I finished the pentagram and started on the first of the symbols, the black gives it more depth, almost like an aged patina. Yeah, sure.

A rising of tingles cramped my hand as I finished the last symbol. Exhaling, I started on the inner circle, relying on the points of the pentagram to guide me. The haze of burning glass grew thicker, distorting my vision, but I knew the instant my starting point and ending point met.

My shoulders twisted when I felt a vibration chime through me, first in my extended aura in the mirror and then in me. The inner circle had been set, and it seemed to have been etched onto my aura by way of marking the glass.

Pulse quickening, I started on the second circle. This one, too, resonated upon completion, and I shivered when my aura started to leave the scrying mirror, pulling the entire figure into me and carrying the curse with it.

Salt it, Rachel. Before it burns you, Ceri said urgently, and the white drawstring bag of my sea salt edged into my tunnel vision.

My fingers fumbled at the ties, and I finally closed my eyes to make better progress that way. I felt disconnected. My aura was coming back painfully slowly, seeming to crawl over my skin and soak in layer by layer, burning. I had a feeling that if I didnt finish this before my aura came entirely back, it was really going to hurt.

The salt made a soft hush as it hit the glass, and I flinched at the feeling of unseen cold sand rasping against my skin. Not bothering to trace the patterns, I dumped it all, my heart pounding as the weight of it hitting the mirror seemed to make my chest heavy.

The bucket appeared at my feet and the wine at my kneesilently, unobtrusively. Hands shaking, I scrabbled for my big-ass symbolic knife, pricking my thumb and dropping three plops of red into the wine as Ceris voice hovered at the edge of my awareness and told me what to do: whispering, guiding, instructing me how to move my hands, how to finish this thing before I passed out from the sensations.

The wine cascaded over the mirror, and a moan of relief slipped from me. It was as if I could feel the salt dissolve into the glass, bonding to it, sealing the power of the curse and quieting it. My entire body hummed, the salt in my blood echoing with the power, settling into new channels and going somnolent.

My fingers and soul were cold from the wine, and I shifted them, feeling the last of the gritty salt wash away. Ita prorsus, I said, repeating the words of invocation as Ceri gave them to me, but it wasnt until I touched my wine-wet finger to my tongue that it actually invoked.

The wave of demon smut rose from my work. Hell, I could see it looking like a black haze. Bowing my head, I took itI didnt fight it, I took itaccepting it with a feeling of inevitability. It was as if a part of me had died, accepting that I couldnt be who I wanted, so I had to work at making who I was someone I could live with. My pulse jumped, then settled.

The air pressure shifted, and I felt Ceris bubbles go down. From above us came the hint of a bell resonating in the belfry. The unheard vibrations pressed against my skin, and it was as if I could feel the curse imprinting itself on me in smaller, gentler waves, pushed by sound waves so low they could only be felt. And then it was done, and the sensation was gone.

Inhaling, I focused on the wine-damp mirror in my hands. A glistening drop of red hung, then fell to echo in the salted wine inside the bucket. The mirror now reflected the world in a dark, wine-red hue, but that paled next to the double-circled pentagram before me, etched in a stunning crystalline perfection. It was absolutely beautiful, catching and reflecting the light in shades of crimson and silver, all glittery and faceted. I did this? I said in surprise, and looked up.

I blanched. Ceri was staring at me with her hands on her lap, Jenks on her shoulder. It wasnt that she looked scared, just really, really worried. I shifted my shoulders, feeling a light connection from my mind to my aura that hadnt been there before. Or perhaps I was more sensitive to it. Does it get better? I said, concerned by Ceris lack of response.

What? she asked, and Jenkss wings blurred, sending a strand of her hair flying.

I glanced at the bucket of salted wine next to mehardly remembering pouring it on the mirrorthen set the glass on the table. My fingers parted from it, but it was as if I still felt it with me. The feeling of connection? I said uncomfortably.

You can feel it? Jenks squeaked, and Ceri shushed him, her eyebrows knitting together.

I shouldnt? I asked as I wiped my hands on a napkin, and Ceri looked away.

I dont know, she said softly, clearly thinking of something else. Al never said.

I was starting to feel more like myself. Jenks came forward, and I kept wiping my hands, dabbing the damp off. You okay? he asked, and I nodded, discarding the napkin and pulling my legs up to sit cross-legged. I tugged the mirror to sit atop my lap. It made me feel like I was in high school, playing with a Ouija board in someones basement.

Im fine, I said, trying to ignore the fact that I thought the white crystalline pattern I had made on the glass was absolutely beautiful. Lets do this. I want to be able to sleep tonight.

Ceri stirred, drawing my attention to her. Her angular features were drawn, and she looked frightened by a sudden thought. Ah, Rachel, she stammered, standing up. Would you mind if we waited? Just until tomorrow?

Oh, God. I did it wrong. What did I do? I blurted, reddening.

Nothing, she rushed, reaching out but not touching me. Youre fine. But you just readjusted your aura, and you probably ought to go through an entire sun cycle to settle yourself before trying to use it. The calling circle, I mean.

I looked at the mirror, then her. Ceris face was unreadable. She was hiding her emotions, and doing a damn fine job of it. Id done it wrong, and she was mad. She hadnt expected all my aura to slide off, but it had. Crap, I said, disgusted. I did it wrong, didnt I?

She shook her head, but she was gathering her stuff up to leave. You did it correctly. I have to go. I have to check on something.

I hurried to get up, knocking the table and almost spilling my glass of white wine when I set the mirror down. Ceri, Ill do better next time. Really, Im getting better at this. Youve helped me so much already, I said, but she stepped out of my reach, disguising it as swooping forward for her slippers. I froze, scared. She didnt want me to touch her. What did I do?

Slowly she halted, still not looking at me. Jenks hovered between us. Outside, I could hear the neighbors yelling friendly good-byes and a horn beeping. Reluctantly her eyes met mine. Nothing, she said. Im sure the reason your aura all spilled out was because your blood invoked it and not another demons, as it was in my case when I was bound to Als account to field his calls for him. You need to let your aura settle in firmly before using the curse, is all. A day at least. Tomorrow night.

I took in Jenkss worry. He had heard the lie in her voice, too. Either she was making up the reason my aura pooled out or she was lying about the need to wait to call Minias. One scared the crap out of me, and the other was just bewildering. She doesnt want to touch me?

She turned to go, and I glanced at the calling circle, beautiful and innocent-looking on my coffee table, reflecting the world in a wine-stained hue. Wait, Ceri. What if he calls tonight?

Ceri stopped. Head bowed, she came back, put her hand atop the middle figure with fingers spread wide, and murmured a word of Latin. There, she said, glancing hesitantly at me. Ive put a do not disturb notation on it. It will expire at sunup. She took a deep breath, seeming to make a decision. This was necessary, she said, as if convincing herself, but when I nodded agreement, her features pinched in what looked like fear.

Thank you, Ceri, I said, bewildered, and she slipped out the front door and closed it without a sound. I heard her feet slap the wet pavement as she ran, then nothing. I turned to Jenks, still hovering. What was that all about? I asked, feeling very unsure.

Maybe she cant admit she doesnt know why your aura pooled out, he said, coming to sit on my knee when I flopped back into the couch and propped my arches on the edge of the table. Or maybe shes mad at herself for almost exposing you without your aura. He hesitated, then said, You didnt get a hug good-bye.

I reached for my glass and took a sip, feeling a tingling rise up through my wine-stained aura, almost as if responding to what Id just drank. Slowly the sensation faded. I thought back to Ceris circle dropping and the feeling of the bell resonating through me when the curse had invoked. It had felt good. Satisfying. That was okay, wasnt it?

Jenks, I said wearily, I wish someone would tell me what in hell is going on.

The afternoon sun was warm on my shoulders, bare but for the straps of my chemise. Last nights rain had left the ground soft, and the moist heat hovering an inch or so over the disturbed earth was comforting. I was taking advantage of it by tending my yew plant, having an idea that I might make up some forget potions in case Newt showed again. All I needed now was the fermented lilac pressings. It wasnt illegal to make forget charms, just use them, and who would fault me for using one on a demon?

The soft plunk of a cut tip dropping into one of my smaller spell pots was loud, and with my face turned to the earth, I knelt before the tombstone it was growing out of and sent my fingers lightly among the branches, harvesting the ones growing inward to the center of the plant.

Ceris reaction to my auras pooling out last night had left me very uneasy, but the sun felt good, and I took strength from that. I might have made a strong connection to the ever-after, but nothing had changed. And Ceri was right. I needed a way for Minias to contact me without having to show up. This was safer. Easier.

A grimace crossed my face, and I turned my attention from pruning to pulling weeds to widen the circle of cleared earth. Easy like a wish. And wishes always came back to bite you.

Glancing at the angle of the sun, I decided I ought to call it good and get cleaned up before Kisten came over to take me to my drivers-ed class. I stood, slapping the dirt from my jeans and gathering my tools. My gaze expanded from the singular vision of the pollution-stained grave marker to the wider expanse of my walled graveyard, the domestic Hollows beyond that, and, even farther, the tallest buildings of Cincinnati across the river. I loved it here, a spot of stillness surrounded by life, humming like a thousand bees.

I headed for the church, smiling and touching the stones as I passed, recognizing them like old friends and wondering what the people they guarded had been like. There was a small flurry of pixies by the back door to the church, and I picked my way to it, curious as to what was up. My faint smile widened when the snap of dragonfly wings turned into Jenks. The pixy circled me, looking good in his casual gardening clothes.

Hey, Rachel, are you done over there? he said by way of greeting. My kids are dying to check out your gardening.

Skirting the circle of blasphemed ground encompassing the grave marker of a weeping angel, I squinted at him. Sure. Just tell them to watch the oozing tips. That stuff is toxic.

He nodded, his wings a gossamer blur as he went to my other side so I wasnt looking into the sun. They know. He hesitated, then with a quickness that said he was embarrassed, blurted, Are you going to need me today?

I looked up from my uneven footing, then back down. No. Whats up?