He was almost frantic, and Ceri scooted closer with sly amusement. “Be easy, young goyle. I think the landlord would agree to a few months’ lodging for what you just did.”

“Break the witch’s table?” he said quizzically, his big clawed feet shifting with sharp taps. He had really big ears that moved to show his emotion, up and down, almost like a dog’s. And the white tufts were adorable.

Smiling wider, Ceri pointed with her eyes to my light, still glowing despite the distractions. “For keeping said witch from frying her synapses,” she said. It was my turn to flush, and seeing it, Ceri added, “It’s not that big of a circle for the power you’re channeling. If you added to it, it might implode and then backlash into you.”

My mouth twisted up as an uneasy feeling took me. “Really?”

“Why don’t you let it go?” she asked, and when the gargoyle awkwardly cleared his throat, I nodded, separating my will from the line.

I stiffened when the pulling sensation seemed to fall in on itself, blinking when every last erg of power in me was sucked into the ball and the light hanging over the dresser extinguished itself. That fast, the golden shadow-light was gone, and everything looked dull and gray in the glow of the flickering candle on the dresser. Poised, I listened to the rain as the silver metal ring swayed slightly. It seemed colder, and I shivered. Demon magic without cost. This was going to bitch-slap me somewhere. I knew it.

“This is high magic, Rachel,” Ceri said, bringing me back to the present. “Beyond what I can do. The chance you will misstep is high, and you can seriously hurt yourself if you jump into experimentation. So don’t.”

I had a flash of irritation that she would tell me not to do something, but it died fast.

The gargoyle shifted his wings with the pleasant sound of sliding sand. “I just thought it was a bad idea,” he said. “The power resonating in that bell is maxed as it is.”

“Just so.” Ceri turned to the window as Jenks buzzed in through the pixy hole in the topmost window.

“Hey!” he shouted, his wings clattering aggressively, hovering with his hands on his hips as he looked at the awkwardly shifting gargoyle. “It’s about time you woke up. What do you think you’re doing here? Rachel, make him leave. No one invited him.”

“Jenks, he wants to talk rent,” I said, but Jenks was having none of it.

“Rent?” he yelped, buzzing his wings to shake the water from them, leaving spots on the granite. “Did you eat fairy dust this morning for breakfast? We can’t have a gargoyle here!”