“I got super close that time.” She wipes her forehead with the back of a delicate wrist. “Did you see the light? It’s definitely responding to me. And I could feel it, too. Like, my energy connecting with it.”
I grab my journal and pencil. Flip to a fresh page. “What did you feel, exactly? Describe it to me.”
“You know when you drink two extra-large cappuccinos in a row, with double espresso shots, and you start vibrating like there’s fire ants crawling around inside you?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever experienced that sensation, no.”
“Well, it’s kind of like that, but not as uncomfortable. It’s warm and prickly, but also kind of soothing? And energizing, but without being overwhelming.” She offers a broad smile. A smile one might also describe as energizing without being overwhelming, if one were wont to comment upon such things. “I’m ready for more, Professor. So if that wasn’t good enough, let’s try?—”
“Itwasn’t. I realize this might be a difficult concept for you to embrace, but we need more than prickly feelings akin to thoseresulting from your over-reliance on addictive substances. Go again.”
Her smile falters. I want to kick myself for ruining it, but it’s for her own good. The portal is weak. Playtime is over. Wemustmake more tangible progress, and soon.
Regrouping, Miss Bonnivarde offers a quick nod, then closes her eyes, her brow furrowed. Raising her arms and blowing out a breath, she goes through the exercises I’ve taught her—reaching out with her senses, connecting with the energy, communicating her intention.
This time, the portal glows more brightly in response. After a few beats, her breathing steadies, and a swirling vortex forms at her feet, opening into a dark void. The candles encircling the space waver.
Suddenly, the dark void ripples, and I gasp.
Something is trying to come through.
“Stop,” I command.
“But I’m doing it! I’m connecting! Oh shit, I think I’m summoning a?—”
“Cut the connection. Now.” The portal shifts, lightning arcing inside, violet and deadly. Whatever she’s called, it’s big. Still, she makes no effort to sever the tie.
“Miss Bonnivarde?—”
“Wait! One more second, I’ve almost?—”
“I saidstop!”
She startles at my tone, breaking the connection. The portal goes dark, then fades, returning to a cement floor once again.
Crisis, for the moment, averted.
“What’d you do that for?” the obstinate witch demands. “I almost had him! A real demon!”
“A realdisaster. One you would’ve had no bloody idea how to contain.” I slam my journal shut and chuck it across the room. “For fuck’s sake, woman. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“But you’re right here, watching my every move! You could’ve contained it, even if I couldn’t!”
“You are not experienced enough to make that declaration with any amount of accuracy.”
“And at this rate, I never will be. You’re hamstringing me at every turn.”
“Expecting you to follow proper procedure rather than indulging your every little whim isnothamstringing. It’s keeping you, the portal, and this entire realm safe.”
“But my whole purpose is to guard the portal and oversee demonic-witch relationships. How can I do that if you won’t even let me practice summoningactualdemons?”
“It’s too soon! Can’t you see that?”
She crosses her arms, fuming. “Explain it to me like I’m five, because apparently that’s the level of understanding you think I’m capable of.”
“It’s not about capability, it’s about knowledge and experience. Before you can properly summon and introduce yourself to demons with any sort of confidence and assurance—the bare minimum requirement for staying safe—youmustgain control of the portal. You need to understand its workings, its mysteries, its limitations. You need to both connect with and predict the movement of the energy, the ebbs and flows, the fractures. Without such fundamentals, how are you to know when something needs reinforcing? Or when a bad actor is attempting to breach the energetic barrier, as we nearly just experienced? When corrupt witches are attempting to summon and bind demons in ways that go against the Accords? Demonic summoning is not day drinking, Miss Bonnivarde. One does not march so cavalierly into the jaws of Hell and?—”
“Dude. What the fuck isupwith you today?”
