The spell hummed in the air.
The fairy statues and the lines of force turned dark, and my stomach heaved.
I threw up. Tully retched, too, but managed to keep his cookies.
“What in the wide world?” I swore. The wand had two charges left. “That should have worked.”
“You rushed it,” Tully said.
I shot him a look. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you rushed it, plain and simple.”
I stepped up to him, craning my neck to look him in the eyes. “Oh, and now you’re the expert on binding magic.”
“I do study,” he said. “Not just my own sorcery.”
I took a deep breath “Fine. Glad to hear it. You have an alternate idea?”
“What about releasing the wards, rather than controlling them?”
I rubbed my forehead. He had a point, as much as I hated to admit it. It would mean essentially dismantling the wards, and that wouldn’t make the sentinel happy. It would also leave the house and us unprotected.
“Very well,” I said, “I accept your proposed course of action.”
“You don’t have to get all formal,” he replied.
I grinned. He didn’t smile back.
There were three ways to go when releasing a ward. One would be a version of the spell I’d just tried and failed at casting. A second attempt would require a lot more mana and energy from me. The third would be using a sympathetic approach.
“You have a manifestation on tap?” I asked Tully. “I’m fresh out.”
It would be far easier if we had a conjurer on hand, but we didn’t.
He held up a silver tube sealed with a jade cap. “I have this.” He opened it, saying a command word in Spanish.
A tiny feathered snakelike form flew out and fluttered in the air. I didn’t recognize it.
“A quezzie.” Tully sounded disappointed that I didn’t recognize it. “From Quetzalcoatl,” he added.
“Ah, the Aztec serpent god.”
“Sort of,” he said.
The manifestation’s eyes glittered like rubies at me as it hovered. It was beautiful. For an instant, I saw myself through its eyes, a small woman, rooted to the ground. The air crackled with energy that land-bound-me couldn’t sense.
I blinked and the quezzie did a somersault.
I cast a linking spell, in Nahautl, classical Aztec. The manifestation had been ready for it. I could see clearly through its eyes now, see the mana flowing around us and the lines of magical force in a barrier around the house. Lines that flowed from the twin fairy statues, statues that boiled with magic, that were alive even as they were inanimate. Sympathetic sorcery connected one manifestation to another.
The quezzie flew around the statues, settling on one, and stretching out its body until its tail bridged the gate and coiled around the other statue.
The fairy statues trembled faintly with magic as the quezzie touched them.
Release the magic and withdraw the ward, I chanted silently. The air cleared of mana and the lines of magical force withdrew into the statues.
Tully nodded. “That did it,” he said. He drew his lockpick and opened the gate.
The quezzie flew past us toward the house.
“That was easy,” I said. “Thanks for the loan.” I handed him back his wand and pushed open the gate. Tully followed me up the drive. The quezzie darted across the yard in front of us, twisting and looping in the air. Its joy in being free filled me in an exhilarating rush that made me want to skip.
Something hurtled earthward from the sky, followed by the sudden snap of stone wings beating the air. A gargoyle landed on the house’s roof top beside the chimney, wings folding onto its back. Its eyes glowed red and blue-white lightning crackled around it.
Tully and I hit the dirt. An instant later lightning shot from the gargoyle and into the quezzie. The quezzie made a high keening sound in my mind and died in a cloud of black smoke, dissolving back into mana. Its final agony washed over me in a burning wave and I cried out.
“Marquez!” Tully shouted. He gestured, and a gold ring on his right hand flashed. Air pushed at us.
Lightning shot from the gargoyle but bounced off an invisible shield between it and us. A sulfurous stink filled the air, and Tully and I coughed. The gargoyle unfolded its wings and soared into the air.
Sparks trailed from the gargoyle as it flew over us. Tully raised his arms, turning to follow the gargoyle. Silver flickered around the edges of Tully’s defensive shield, six feet in front of us.
The gargoyle spun around and hovered beside a pine tree thirty feet from us, its wings beating the air. Lightning began playing around its stone skin. Even at this distance, I heard the sharp hiss of mana becoming magic.
I glanced around, scanning the gate and the street beyond, trying to see if anyone was there. Lightning flared overhead. I glimpsed a tall, slender figure in a hoodie watching from the gate, silver rings flashing in the actinic light.
The air crackled and snapped with electricity. I jerked my head around to look up at the hovering manifestation in time to see it send a ball of lightning smashing into the ghostly outlines of Tully’s magical shield. The shield flared, becoming a disk of silver light, then dissolving into a swarm of sparks showering down on us. I covered my face with my arms. Needles of pain shot through me and I shrieked. I’d forgotten just how much magic sparks could hurt a sorcerer.
The sparks dissipated. I shook my head to clear it, wincing. Beside me, Tully had collapsed against the ground, head down, unconscious.
The gargoyle roared in triumph, beating its wings faster, rising above the crown of the pine tree. Lightning began crackling again around it. Our shield was gone. The next bolt would kill us. So much for my becoming a field agent for good. Tully and I would end up six feet under.
I grabbed at the blood amulet beneath my shirt, pressed my wrist against it. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to think
