Pale Demon

“Celero inanio!” I shouted, throwing a ball of glowing ever-after at the harshly croaking stork, its ugly neck skin flapping. Yes, it was a black curse, but it was a bird eating pixies—pixies I had found a way to deal with peacefully. I was already mumbling, “I take the smut,” as the curse to boil the blood in a living creature sped across the short distance, slamming into the bird to destroy it in a ball of curse-ridden magic.

Except it didn’t.

My ball of death exploded inches from the bird, breaking against a flash of black that had enveloped the large bird, protecting it. Sparkles lit the afternoon, falling like a cascade over the protection bubble. The pixies darted back with frightened cries, gathering in a hazing cloud as the bird shook itself and the protection circle vanished.

Cawing, the ugly black stork turned a red eye to me. My gut clenched as I noticed it was slitted like a goat’s.

“You stupid fool,” Trent gasped from the ground, his eyes tearing as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not a bird. It’s a demon.”

Eleven

“Um, Jenks?” I said, taking a stumbling step back into a cloud of pixies now seeking shelter with me. “Tell me the sun is up.”

“The sun is up,” he said, hearing the panic in my voice and knowing what that black bubble had been about as much as I did. “Damn, Rache. You telling me that’s not a bird?”

Ivy shoved Trent off her and got to her feet. Trent was next, and we walked backward to the car, the pixies retreating with us as they continued to shout insults at the bird. The sun was up. It couldn’t be a demon. But it wasn’t a bird, either, and I didn’t know if that scared me or simply made me angrier. An ignorant bird eating people might be forgiven, but not if it was another intelligent being, demon or not. My instincts screamed demon, but the sun was up. This isn’t possible. Maybe it’s a really bad witch Trent thinks is a demon.

The cloud of pixies behind me started talking, too fast for me to follow, shrilling about Ku’Sox and fables and the past coming to life. “Kill it!” the head pixy shouted, and the snick of Jenks pulling his sword rang in my ear.

“No!” he yelled, and they halted, hovering behind me. “It’s not a bird! You can’t fight it as if it is!”

My mouth went dry as the stork croaked, eying me as it jumped from rock to rock, coming closer. Crap, it was getting bigger, too. My thoughts went to the petroglyph of the bird with a figure in its beak, and I paled as the memory of a pixy scream echoed in my mind, the bird gulping it down. “Uh, guys…,” I stammered as I turned, seeing Trent and Ivy still standing there, scared pixies wreathing them. “We’d better get to the car.”

We ran. Arms pumping, I followed Trent and Ivy down the hill to the car, hitting the rocks and jumping over low walls to make a beeline for it rather than the safer, serpentine route. I could make only one circle. We all had to be in it, Vivian included. Behind me, the bird squawked, and the pixies scattered with shrill sounds of panic as heavy wings beat the air.

“Make a circle!” I shouted as I saw Vivian, awake and standing next to the open trunk, my scrying mirror in her hand, her mouth hanging open as she gaped behind us.

“Make a friggin’ circle!” I shouted as the path became level and I ran on pavement instead of asphalt. The heat ballooned up, almost a wall. Ivy and Trent reached the car first, landing against it to turn and stare. I didn’t look as I skidded to a halt beside them, searching my pockets for chalk that I didn’t have. I had been hunting pixies, not a friggin’ day-walking demon!

It couldn’t be. But I’d seen its eyes. It had made a circle.

Behind me, the bird croaked out a weird call. It echoed in the heat-beaten stillness as if coming from time itself. Leaning into the car, I found my bag, and digging through it for my chalk, I thought about my scrying mirror in Vivian’s hands. Did Trent swipe my chalk, too?

“A circle won’t hold him,” Trent said grimly, and I pulled myself out of the car, chalk in hand. Vivian was beside Ivy, and pixies circled, darting about in an eye-hurting mass.

“It’s the Ku’Sox Sha-Ku’Ru,” one shouted. “You brought the left hand of the sun upon us!”

“Chalk,” I said triumphantly, holding it up and turning. “Oh, crap,” I whispered. It was flying. And it had gotten even bigger—the size of a small plane, maybe.

“Rachel, duck!” Jenks shrilled as it angled for me, but I was already dropping.

I screamed as I felt talons rake my hair, and I dropped to the pavement, rolling under the car. My cheek burned from the pavement, and I held my breath as the wind shifted my hair. Then it was gone, and I looked up to see it swooping around. Holy crap, I had to do something.

“Is it a demon?” Jenks shrilled, inches from my face as I rolled out from under the car and got to my feet, squinting in the sun as I wiped the grit from my palms. Trent looked shaken as he crouched beside the car, and Ivy was helping Vivian off the ground. Pixies were a cloud over them, drawn to the very person who had caused their kinsmen’s deaths. “Well, is it?” Jenks asked again.

“I don’t know.” Dazed, I looked at the frightened pixies seeking shelter with us. A day-walking demon? It couldn’t be. But as I looked at Trent, I had a bad feeling that it was. Just trying to help, eh? Thanks a hell of a lot.

“What is that thing?” Vivian asked.

“I think it’s a demon,” Trent said, trying to wave the pixies away.

“You think!” I exclaimed, but the hard look he gave me stopped my next words cold. Ivy looked up from wiping her palms, and even Jenks turned, hovering in the hot air over the car. And as Trent slid his gaze to Vivian, then back to me, my jaw clenched, and I remained silent. I could say nothing. If the coven knew he’d summoned a demon, even to help us, his words in my defense would mean nothing. Damn it! Damn it all to the Turn and back!

“It can’t be,” Vivian scoffed, missing the hatred I directed at Trent. “It’s daylight!”

“It’s coming back!” the pixy leader exclaimed. “Scatter!”

“No, come closer!” I called out. “Jenks, get them closer!” Then immediately wished I hadn’t as he laboriously flew from the car to try to corral them.

So Trent had summoned a demon to help us. God save me from businessmen with too much money and not enough to do, I thought as I leaned against the car and tried to imagine a circle big enough to hold us all. It would be large for most witches, but I could do it. It wouldn’t hold long, either, but if I did it right, it would give me time to make a real one.

The pixies vacillated between following their leader, now flying away, and Jenks, almost browbeating them to get them to the car. Croaking three times, the huge bird came at us, talons outstretched. I quivered, remembering the time I’d been a mouse.

“An undrawn circle won’t hold,” Trent said softly, his eyes wide as he stood beside me, two of the pixy leaders at his shoulder. Stupid-ass elf might get hurt, but the demon couldn’t snatch him, and he knew it.

“You need to shut up,” I snarled, starting to shake. “I think you’ve helped out enough for one day, okay?”

He dropped his head and rocked back, looking not nearly chagrined enough. Turning to the approaching bird, I touched the line, pulling it into me and imagining the strongest, bird-hating circle I could think of. Oh God. The yellow claws looked as big as tree roots, and they were getting bigger.

“Now!” Jenks shouted.

“Rhombus!” I screamed, flinging my hand out to give my spell more strength.

I went down on one knee as I pushed the energy out of me instead of letting it flow naturally. With a clap of sound that reverberated like thunder, my bubble flashed into existence. Screeching, the bird tried to backwing, head flung high and claws yanked tight to its body.

“Hold,” I whispered, hands in fists as it hit. “Oh God. Please hold.”

The bird hit, and I shook, bowing my head as the impact reverberated through me. And then my circle fell. Panting, I looked up. The bird had glanced off the top of the bubble, pulling up enough to avoid a full, neck-snapping