Don't Hex with Texas
“Is a church a good source of power then?” I couldn’t resist asking. “If it is, this town may be more powerful than you think. We have a church on almost every corner.”
“That’s gargoyle-specific, doll, only ’cause we was created to guard churches in the first place. Most of your churches here don’t have much power, since they weren’t built with gargoyles in mind. A big oversight, if you ask me.”
Owen was already at work, pulling things out of his bag and placing them around the bank’s front entrance. “Is there a back door?” he asked as he worked.
“No, one way in and one way out. This place was built during a time when bank robberies happened all the time. You didn’t want to give them much of an escape route. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Thanks, but not yet. I’ll need you when it comes time to set these. Help Sam keep lookout.”
“You didn’t trust me, did you?” Sam asked, sounding offended, as I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“No offense, but since your magic doesn’t work on me, I find it very easy to forget that it’s there,” I said, surprised at how badly I was shaking. It reminded me of the one time I’d joined in a teenage prank when we toilet-papered the home of our chemistry teacher. I’d been too scared of being caught to get any fun at all out of it, so I decided to avoid that kind of activity from then on.
Behind us, Owen began chanting softly in something that sounded like it might be Greek. He scattered a shimmering powder across the bank’s threshold as he spoke. I shivered at the tingle of strong magic in use nearby, and I was glad I hadn’t worn the magic-amplifying necklace. He took a step backward, paused for a moment, then said, “Okay, now to set it and fine-tune it. I’ll need your help for this.”
“Which means you have a lot of pent-up energy that I can tap into. Setting wards like this requires a massive burst of power, and with the power lines here so weak, I need another source if I don’t want to deplete myself entirely. You should barely notice the effect.” He held out his hand to me, and I stepped forward and took it. His hand was firm and warm, and I was sure mine was cold and clammy.
He adjusted his grip so that our palms were tight together and our fingers were laced, as much skin as possible in contact between us. “Now you need to relax. You don’t have to do anything but stand there and keep breathing. Okay?”
I nodded, then found my voice to croak, “Okay.”
“Okay, then. Sam, stay on lookout, and make sure that veil is working. There might be a few fireworks.” Yeah, there sure might, I thought as my skin tingled from the close contact with him. And he hadn’t even started the magic.
He murmured something under his breath that was somewhere between a chant and a song. There was more melody than in your average chant, while it was still too flat to be much of a song for anyone who wasn’t into rap. I didn’t understand the words at all, and I didn’t think I recognized the language.
Then the strongest burst of magic I’d ever felt hit me. It flowed through me, and it reminded me of the very brief time earlier this year when, due to a fluke involving a parasitic fairy, I’d been able to do magic, myself. My hand grew so warm where it touched Owen’s that I was sure it would glow red if I looked at it.
I did look at it, and there was a golden aura surrounding our joined hands. But then an even brighter light caught my eye. I turned to see a sheet of white light rise from the powder on the ground to fill the entire bank doorway. The sheet held for maybe a minute, then suddenly all the magic was gone.