The air pressure shifted, and I felt Ceri’s 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 wasn’t that she looked scared, just really, really worried. I shifted my shoulders, feeling a light connection from my mind to my aura that hadn’t been there before. Or perhaps I was more sensitive to it. “Does it get better?” I said, concerned by Ceri’s lack of response.

“What?” she asked, and Jenks’s wings blurred, sending a strand of her hair flying.

I glanced at the bucket of salted wine next to me—hardly remembering pouring it on the mirror—then 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 shouldn’t?” I asked as I wiped my hands on a napkin, and Ceri looked away.

“I don’t 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 someone’s basement.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to ignore the fact that I thought the white crystalline pattern I had made on the glass was absolutely beautiful. “Let’s 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. “You’re 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.”