The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(35)
Author: Kim Harrison

“Can you get there yourself?” I whispered to Trent, and he nodded. He had shifted realities before, and that’s all he had to do, not jump to an entirely new line. “Good. Bis, you’ve got Jenks. I’ll take Nina. Now!”

“What? Wait!” Nina shouted as I grabbed her arm and shifted her aura to that of the line.

“No!” I heard someone shriek, but it was too late, and their cry of outrage rose, echoed, and vanished. The rank smell of burnt amber filled me on my next breath.

“Let go!” Nina exclaimed, tugging away, and Trent coughed. We’d made it.

Hand over her face, Nina squinted into the dusky night as the gritty wind lifted her hair. Bis hunched on a rock, and Jenks darted into my hair, muttering about pixy piss and bloody daisies. The light was dim and red, and it put an unreal haze to everything as it reflected the early night sky. The scorch marks from our fight earlier looked like wounds.

Trent spun around at the clink of a rock, and my pulse thundered at the glowing eyes peering at us from the dark. A second set of eyes joined the first. They had found us already?

“Oh, this is much better!” Jenks snarled from beside my ear. “God, it’s going to take me forever to get the stink out of my clothes. Remind me again of why I wanted to come?”

Immediately Trent knelt and used his hand to smooth a place to spell in. There was another shifting of rock, and Nina spun, eyes becoming black. The bluster she’d shown with the vampires was gone. It was a sucky way to live, never knowing if what you felt was real and if you could back your words up, or if you were about to find yourself pinned to the floor and your neck ripped out by someone stronger than you.

“Oh. Yeah. Right,” Jenks grumbled. “Save the world, blah, blah, blah.”

“Bis?” I asked, and he took to the air in a single downward thrust.

“On it!” he called out cheerfully, and still grumbling, Jenks went with him. There might be two surface demons here, or there might be twenty. Bis and Jenks could find out.

“I’m going to set a perimeter circle,” I whispered to Trent, and he nodded, his expression grim as he used a silver knife to carefully scrape a six-foot spiral into the ragged earth. I strained to hear any sound as I moved to the outskirts and used the heel of my foot to make a shallow groove enclosing both Trent’s spiral and the rock that Nina had her back against. I didn’t set it, concerned that Al would feel it and show up like last time—not with Trent here.

My skin prickled. Trent’s magic was beginning to rise. Face pale, he backed away from his finished spiral. His soft chanting tugged at the recesses of my mind, and I steeled myself against the lure, shivering as the chill of the night seemed to cut right through me.

Uneasy, I hastened back to Nina and set my shoulder bag down beside her. “You think Felix’s soul is still nearby?” I said as I scanned the horizon.

Neither Trent nor Nina answered me. Trent was fumbling to put his cap on, his red-stained fingers leaving marks everywhere. Lips moving in a silent prayer, he put his ribbon about his neck. Seeing him, I was amazed again at his mix of professional businessman and magic user. His motions were quick and decisive, but there was a new solemn thread to his every action that screamed his belief in the Goddess. It was no longer a game of pretend. He believed, and it made his magic stronger than a demon’s, and more variable than a dandelion tuft in the wind—dangerous and unreliable.

“What if he’s gone?” Nina said, and we all jerked as a tiny pebble rolled almost to our feet. From the tufts of grass, eyes showed. A silhouette rose, ragged, as if he wasn’t real. My breath quickened as I felt Trent pull more heavily on the line and the spiral glowed to make a puddle of green light. The glow stretched all the way to the surface demon, seeming to shred the first layer of reality from it to expose the spirit it really was.

I reached behind me for the solid feel of the rock as Trent’s magic pulled at me. It was a call to go home. I’d been there once, vulnerable to its summons.

Scared, I looked up at the black dome the sky made. “Bis? Jenks!” I shouted.

“I don’t think that’s Felix,” Nina said, and I agreed. The hatred shining from the dark was too deep, too enduring. But he was someone. Cormel, maybe? Luke’s master? Ivy’s mother? They weren’t demons, they were lost souls, shoved into the hell of the demons’ making until the body died and mind and soul became one again.

Oh God. Don’t let me do anything stupid.

Stepping carefully to not touch his spiral, Trent set a thumb-size bottle at the very center, upside down and still stoppered with a black wax. A faint glow raced from it to fill the spiral. Nina gasped, and I winced at the almost unheard whine. It set the bones in my ears vibrating. It was coming from the spiral itself, waves of glowing light pulsating from it like the heart of creation.

Even more carefully, Trent backed out.

“Ah, it’s working,” I said as more eyes showed, rising up from the grass like lions.

Crouching, Trent touched the red-drawn circle around the spiral, and a not-there shimmer seemed to rise straight up, not arching closed to make a dome but making a perfect column with the spiral glowing within it. It was his containment field, and the ache between my ears grew.

“Nina,” he said, hair falling into his face and a glow about his hands that made him look nothing like himself. “Once he shows, lure him into the spiral. You can pass in and out of it, but don’t touch any of the lines. The spell should ignore you, even if you touch the spiral, but no need to take chances. Once the surface demon touches any part of the spiral, he’ll have no recourse but to walk it. That will force his essence into the bottle.”

Is this how he captured my soul? I wondered, a faint memory of chant chilling me.

“Are you sure?” she warbled, clearly ready to break.

“Pretty sure.”

I looked at the glowing eyes inching closer, my unease growing. We’d come into this knowing what to do, but not what would happen. Trent’s magic was attracting every surface demon within a hundred miles. “Trent, how can I help here?” I asked, and Nina made a hopeless cry of despair.

Something dangerous plinked through me as our eyes met. He could sing souls to him, mine included, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. “Keep the rest off us,” he said, words having an odd cadence, not quite chanting, but oh so close, and it pulled at me. “I don’t like what your aura looks like. Stay out of the column,” he added, then more sharply, “Nina! On your right!”