Ceri stopped. Head bowed, she came back, put her hand atop the middle figure with fingers spread wide, and murmured a word of Latin. “There,” she said, glancing hesitantly at me. “I’ve put a ‘do not disturb’ notation on it. It will expire at sunup.” She took a deep breath, seeming to make a decision. “This was necessary,” she said, as if convincing herself, but when I nodded agreement, her features pinched in what looked like fear.

“Thank you, Ceri,” I said, bewildered, and she slipped out the front door and closed it without a sound. I heard her feet slap the wet pavement as she ran, then nothing. I turned to Jenks, still hovering. “What was that all about?” I asked, feeling very unsure.

“Maybe she can’t admit she doesn’t know why your aura pooled out,” he said, coming to sit on my knee when I flopped back into the couch and propped my arches on the edge of the table. “Or maybe she’s mad at herself for almost exposing you without your aura.” He hesitated, then said, “You didn’t get a hug good-bye.”

I reached for my glass and took a sip, feeling a tingling rise up through my wine-stained aura, almost as if responding to what I’d just drank. Slowly the sensation faded. I thought back to Ceri’s circle dropping and the feeling of the bell resonating through me when the curse had invoked. It had felt good. Satisfying. That was okay, wasn’t it?

“Jenks,” I said wearily, “I wish someone would tell me what in hell is going on.”

SEVEN

The afternoon sun was warm on my shoulders, bare but for the straps of my chemise. Last night’s rain had left the ground soft, and the moist heat hovering an inch or so over the disturbed earth was comforting. I was taking advantage of it by tending my yew plant, having an idea that I might make up some forget potions in case Newt showed again. All I needed now was the fermented lilac pressings. It wasn’t illegal to make forget charms, just use them, and who would fault me for using one on a demon?

The soft plunk of a cut tip dropping into one of my smaller spell pots was loud, and with my face turned to the earth, I knelt before the tombstone it was growing out of and sent my fingers lightly among the branches, harvesting the ones growing inward to the center of the plant.

Ceri’s reaction to my aura’s pooling out last night had left me very uneasy, but the sun felt good, and I took strength from that. I might have made a strong connection to the ever-after, but nothing had changed. And Ceri was right. I needed a way for Minias to contact me without having to show up. This was safer. Easier.