“Depending on the amount you have to warm up,” Ceri whispered, her eyes distant in memory. “So be careful with your bathwater until you know what you’re doing.” Visibly pulling herself back to the present, she turned to me. “Are you settled now?”

Adrenaline zinged through me, and I set my warm coffee down. I can do this. If Ceri can warm her tea and spindle line energy in her head, then so can I.

“Fill your center,” she encouraged. “Then pull some from it as if you’re going to work a spell as you say your invocation word.”

I tucked a curl behind my ear and settled myself. Exhaling, I closed my eyes and I tapped the line, feeling the pressures equalize in an instant. Setting my mind to the poised calmness I cultivated when I said a ley line charm, a curious, new sensation tingled through me. A tinge of energy flowed in from the line, replacing what I had unconsciously pulled from my chi. Tulpa, I thought, hope bringing me tight.

My eyes flew open as a wash of force flowed in from the line to replace what had darted from my chi to my head. In a torrent, the line raced through me and settled in my thoughts. My enclosure expanded to take it in. Shocked, I did nothing to stop it.

“Enough!” Ceri cried, rising to her knees. “Rachel, let go of the line!”

I jerked, pulling my focus from the ley line. There was a brief swish of warmth through me as a dribble of force backwashed from my thoughts to my chi, topping it off. Breath held, I froze in my chair, staring at her. I was afraid to move, there was so much energy in my head.

“Are you all right?” she said, not settling back down, and I nodded.

From the kitchen came a faint, “You okay in there?”

“We’re fine!” I carefully shouted back, then looked at Ceri. “We’re fine, right?”

Green eyes wide, she bobbed her head, not dropping my gaze for an instant. “You’re holding a lot of energy outside your center,” she said. “But I’ve noticed your chi doesn’t hold as much as mine. I think …” She hesitated. “I think an elf’s chi can hold more than a witch’s, but witches seem to be able to hold more in their thoughts.”

I could taste the energy in me, tinfoil-like on my tongue. “Witches make better batteries, huh?” I quipped weakly.

She laughed, her clear voice going up to the dusky rafters. I wished there were pixies up there to dance amid the sound. “Maybe that’s why witches abandoned the ever-after sooner than elves,” she said. “Demons seem to prefer witches over elves or humans for their familiars. I thought it was because there were so few of us, but maybe not.”

“Maybe,” I said, wondering how long I could hold all this force without spilling it. My nose tickled. I desperately didn’t want to sneeze.

Ivy’s boots in the hallway intruded, and we both turned as she strode toward us with her purse over her shoulder and a plate of cookies in her hand. “I’m headed out,” she said lightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Want me to walk you home, Ceri?”