Setting his pentagrams completely aside, he pulled the old book closer. His brow furrowed as he ran a finger under the text to leave a chalk mark as he read. “Next, you remove all charms and spells from yourself.” He looked up. “Maybe you should have taken a salt bath.”

“No. The only charms I have are amulets.” I pulled the spell I had gotten from my mom off, the cord tugging at my hair. I felt my neck, giving Nick a lopsided grin at his attention on it. After a moment’s hesitation, I worked my pinkie ring off and set it aside.

“I knew it!” Nick exclaimed. “I knew you had freckles. It was the ring, wasn’t it?”

He was reaching out, and I handed it to him across the clutter between us. “My dad gave it to me for my thirteenth birthday,” I said. “See the wood inlay? I have to renew it every year.”

Nick glanced at me from under his bangs. “I like your freckles.”

Embarrassed, I took my ring back and set it aside. “What do I do now?”

He glanced down. “Um… prepare the transfer medium.”

“Done,” I said, giving the spell pot a sharp tap to hear it ring. This wasn’t so bad.

“Okay…” He was silent, and the ticking clock seemed to grow loud. Still reading, he said, “Now you have to stand on your scrying mirror and push your aura down into your reflection.” His brown eyes pinched in worry as they met mine. “You can do that?”

“In theory. That’s why I was so picky about the circle. Until I get my aura back, I’ll be vulnerable to all sorts of things.” He nodded, his gaze distant in thought. “Will you watch and tell me if it works? I can’t see my own aura.”

“Sure. It isn’t going to hurt, is it?”

I shook my head as I took up the scrying mirror and set it on the floor. Looking down at its black surface, I was reminded of why I had worked so hard to avoid ley line magic. Its perfect blackness seemed to soak up the light, but at the same time was still shiny. I couldn’t see myself in it, and it pegged my creepy meter.

“Barefoot,” Nick added, and I kicked off my slippers. Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the mirror. It was as cold as it was black, and I stifled a shiver, feeling I might fall through it as if it were a pothole.

“Euwie,” I said, making a face at the pulling sensation from under my feet.

Nick stared, standing up and looking over the counter at my feet. “It’s working,” he said, his face suddenly pale.

Swallowing, I took my hands and ran them down my head as if pushing off water. An ache set my head to throb.

“Oh, yeah,” Nick said, sounding sick. “That pulls it off much faster.”