“Do you know what it feels like?” I said, tense, edgy, and excited all at the same time.

Blinking fast, she shook her head. “I can’t do this. Rachel…be careful.”

I swallowed hard. I could do something that no other witch or elf could do, save Lee. Demon magic. And it was easy.

And that fast, my life shifted again. I didn’t change, but suddenly I was different. A small globe of light had been my signpost. I hoped it was a good portent.

Becoming used to the odd feeling of energy pulling through me quickly, I looked at my light. The glow was not the clear glow of fluorescents, but that of amber. It lit the six-sided room with a black-and-gold haze that seemed darker than the candlelight, but infinitely more far-reaching. Laying heavily upon the empty walls, it brought to mind the late sun close to the horizon that shows from under storm clouds still hanging over you, making everything look like it had a razor-thin shadow, the air full of hidden pressure and the scent of ozone. Demon magic aside, I had created it, and that made it the most everlastingly cool thing I had ever seen.

Eyeing it, I licked my lips, wondering. “What happens if I let more energy into it?”

“Rachel, no!” Ceri shouted.

Something dropped from the ceiling, thumping onto the marble top of the dresser with a sharp crack. It was the gargoyle, his red eyes wide and the tuft of lion fur on his tail bristled. I stumbled back, my elbow knocking into my protection circle to make it fall.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice both high and resonant.

My mouth gaping, I stared at the foot-high person before me as he shook his leathery wings and settled them against himself. Flushing a deep black, he looked at his feet and the new cracks spreading out from them. “Dragon fewmets,” he muttered. “I cracked your table. I’m sorry. God in all his grace help me. I am a clay brain.”

I bumped Ceri when I took another step back, and she made a small, questioning noise.

His color turned back to a comfortable gray splotch, and he shifted his wings. “Do you want me to fix it? I can.”

That shook me, and I remembered to breathe. “Jenks?” I called loudly. “Someone here to talk to you about rent!”

The gargoyle flushed again, everything but the white tuft of fur on the tip of his whiplike tail going black. “Rent?” he squeaked, somehow suddenly looking like an awkward teenager as he hunched his muscular shoulders and shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t have anything to pay you rent with. Patron saints berserk us. I didn’t know I’d have to pay rent. I never should have…No one told me…”