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my middle, and of course Ceri s exasperated expression as she once again found herself trying to
convince the plebeians that she knew what was best for them.
What did I miss? he asked, going to the coffeemaker and pouring what was left into one of my
oversized mugs.
Ivy pushed her chair out and looked sullen. They re demon curses. It s going to leave a mark on
Rachel s soul. Jenks is having second thoughts.
I am not! the small pixy shouted. But I ll kiss a fairy s ass before I let Rachel pay the price for my
curse.
Kisten slowly tucked his shirttails in and sipped his coffee. His eyes went everywhere, and he breathed
deeply, absorbing the scents of the room and using them to read the situation.
Jenks, I protested, then made a sound of defeat when he flew to the last of the potion and drank it, his
throat moving as he gulped it down. Matalina dropped to the table, her wings unmoving. She was a small
spot of brightness, looking more alone than I d ever seen her while she watched her husband put his life
in jeopardy for my safety and that of their son.
The kitchen was silent but for the sound of his kids in the garden when he belligerently dropped his
pixy-sized cup into the spell pot with a dull clang.
I guess that s it, then, I said, gathering myself and leaning so I could glimpse the clock above the sink. I
didn t like this. Not at all.
Looking as if she was desperately trying not to cry, Matalina rubbed her wings together to make a
piercing whistle, which gave us all of three seconds before what looked like Jenks s entire family flowed
into the kitchen from the hallway. The sharp scent of ashes came in with them, and I realized they had
come in down the chimney. Out! Jenks shouted. I said you could watch from the door!
In a swirl of Disney nightmare, his brood settled on the top of the door frame. Shrieks scraped the inside
of my skull as they shoved each other, vying for the best vantage point. Ivy and Kisten cringed visibly,
and Jenks made another whistle of admonishment. They obediently settled, whispering at my threshold of
hearing. Ivy swore under her breath, her face taking on a dark cast. His tall stature graceful, Kisten
crossed the kitchen to stand beside her, pouring half his coffee into her mug to try to pacify her. She
wasn t at her best until at least sundown.
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Okay, Jenks, I said, thinking that willfully twisting a demon curse was spectacularly stupid and that I d
never hear the end of it if it killed me. What would my mother say? Ready?
The pixies lining the door frame squealed, and Matalina flitted to him, her pretty face pale. Be careful,
love, she whispered, and I looked away when they exchanged a last embrace, the two of them rising
slowly in a cloud of gold sparkles before they parted. She went to the sill, wings moving fitfully to make
glittering flashes of light. This was all but killing her, and I felt guilty even though it was probably the best
way to ensure his safety.
Standing beside Matalina in the sun, Ceri nodded confidently. Kisten put a supportive hand atop Ivy s
shoulder. Taking a breath, I went to the table, nervously settling myself at my usual spot and pulling the
demon book of spells onto my lap. It was heavy, and my blood hummed in my legs, almost as if it was
trying to reach the pages.Oh, there s a nice thought.
What s going to happen? Jenks asked, fidgeting as he landed on the center counter, and I turned
sideways in the chair so I could see him.
I licked my lips and looked at the print. It was in Latin, but Ceri and I had gone over it while eating pizza
before I fell asleep.
The Demon Magic for Idiots version, please, he added, and a thin smile crossed me.
I tap a line and say the words of invocation, I said. To shift you back, I say it again. Same as with the
Wereing charm.
That s it?
His eyes were wide, and Ceri sniffed. You did want the short version, she said, moving everything off
the island counter and to the sink. I did a horrendous amount of prep work to make it that easy, Master
Pixy.
His wings drooped. Sorry.
Ivy held her arms close to her and frowned, her aggression clearly misplaced worry. Can we get on
with this? she asked, and I dropped my head to the print again.
Exhaling, I stretched my awareness past the clapboard walls of the kitchen, past the flower beds already
feeling the light presence of pixies, to the small underused ley line running through the graveyard.
Touching it with a finger of thought, I stifled a tremor at the jolt of connection. It used to be that the flow
of force into me had been slow and sedate. Not anymore.
The surge of energy coursed through me, backwashing through me in an uncomfortable sensation. It
settled into my chi with the warmth and satisfaction of hot chocolate. I could pull out more and spindle it
in my head to use later, but I didn t need it, so I let the heavy, resonating wash of energy find its way out
of me and back into the line. I was a net through which the ley line ran, flowing free but for what I pulled
out.
It all happened in the time between one heartbeat and the next, and I lifted my head, my eyes closed.
My hair was moving in the wind that always seemed to be blowing in the ever-after, and I ran a hand
over my loose curls to tame them. I thanked God that it was daylight and I couldn t see even a shadow
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of the ever-after unless I stood right in a line. Which I wasn t.
I hate it when she taps a line, Ivy whispered to Kisten in the corner. You ever see anything freakier
than that? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]