Lungs full of stale air, I leaned to get it. My dress tightened again, and with a smooth motion, I pulled the scrying mirror from between the demon textbooks and my favorite cookie book. Holding it tight to my chest, I sat back down in my chair and rested it on my knees. It was wrong side up, the flat silver back dull and mundane. “I’m calling Al,” I said, though that was obvious. “He needs to know what’s going on.”

The red-wine-tinted glass sent sparkles through my fingertips and the tops of my legs as I arranged it right side up, the silver-edged etchings that I’d put in it catching the light and gleaming. The round, plate-size glass holding the demon curse had been scribed with the figures to make it into sort of an interdimensional cell phone. It was really beautiful, and the fact that I had made it was a source of guilty pride.

“Keep your kids out in case he comes over,” I warned Jenks, but he had already chased them back into the garden, and I set my right hand in the center glyph. Tapping a line, I felt my mind expand as my awareness was dumped into the demon collective. I could still see the kitchen, hear the pixies playing outside, but I could also hear the faint whispers of a handful of conversations—demons in their chat room, I guess. It was uncomfortable, but it would ease if I could get Al to pick up.

Rachel calling Al, come in, Al, I thought sourly. It wasn’t even midnight yet. He should still be up. Most demons kept to a witch’s sleep schedule, and they did sleep. Al had given me his bedroom after examining the closet-size room I’d purchased from another demon. His old room had safeguards built into the walls, and he didn’t trust I could take care of myself—yet.

Yo! Are you there, Your Immenseness? Come in, Al. I need to talk to you!

Jenks’s wings were humming, and my move to look up at him was cut short when Al’s thoughts slid into my mind, somehow maintaining the slightly dry, lordly tone of a British aristocrat that his verbal speech invariably had. What do you want? We’re busy.

“We?” I said aloud, knowing that my verbal speech would carry through the mirror, reflected perfectly in my thoughts. Jenks wouldn’t be able to hear Al’s responses, but it was polite to include him as much as I could.

Ah, me, Al amended, his embarrassment making it through the attempted barrier that he tried unsuccessfully to erect between us. What do you want? I’m busy. If it’s about canceling your next lesson, forget it. Wednesday midnight, or I’ll find you.