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Ram snapped it shut. “It won’t need to be open for long.”
I hated to admit that Ram had a good idea, but… burning the magic circle into the carpet was smart. Because it was created with magic, it should hold some of it, which would help with the spell.
“Everyone stand back,” I ordered.
They cleared some space in the middle of the room. I didn’t like the idea of turning my back on Ram and focusing on a spell rather than any shit he was up to. But if the dimension popped, he’d die too, so he probably wouldn’t try anything.
Probably.
I crouched, placing my palms against the shag. I muttered the spell for fire. It came to my lips easier than my own name.
My magic flared down my arms like wildfire across dry grass. A familiar and comforting thrill flooded me like the sensation of going down on a rollercoaster and a hug on a sleepy morning at the same time.
The purple fire of my magic touched the shag, shrinking and blackening the fibers. A smell like burning hair irritated my nose. As a spot turned black, I pushed my magic onward, extinguishing the fire at one spot and moving it to the next.
I guided my magic along the carpet in a series of connected circles. With the outline complete, I tried to remember the symbols on the Astrosmos relic and burned those into the rug too.
The box screamed as Ram opened it to suck in the smoke, and the scream turned to a cough as though the thing was alive.
I blinked my eyes clear of the thin trails of smoke and pulled my magic back into my body like a snake into a den. The circles with their complex geometric symbols looked like a mess burnt into the orange shag. It didn’t matter for use, but fuck, it was the ugliest damn magic circle I had ever created. I had learned calligraphy just to draw the cleanest, prettiest spells you’ve ever seen, and this one was a disaster.
The coughing and screaming from the box cut off.
I startled as a hand touched my shoulder. Moe dropped to his knees next to me.
“That was amazing! Your magic is pretty, all purple and flamey like if flowers had Super Saiyan hair but like purple, not gold. Do you know what Super Saiyans are?”
I chuckled and took his hand, interlacing our fingers. “It’s when Goku and Vegeta power up.”
Moe’s smile widened. “I bet you could take them both on!”
Might as well argue about Batman fighting Spider-Man, but I laughed at his enthusiasm, anyway.
Jag shot me a sly look. “What other tricks do you have?”
A pleasant tremor went through me. “I can turn my arm into a chainsaw.”
Jag chuckled. He stopped suddenly. “Wait, are you serious?”
I wasn’t, but I winked at him as though I could be.
Elliot circled the spell, staring down at the symbols. My heart soared to watch him, his slow, careful steps, his thoughtful eyes studying the floor, and the soft lines at the corner of his eyes as he thought.
“I don’t recognize any of these symbols.”
“Nobody does,” I said.
Beverly nosed at my free hand, and I petted her head.
Ram tossed the scream box onto a table with a clatter and planted himself at the edge of my circle. My muscles tensed at the way he eyed it, as though he was looking for something to criticize.
“It’s probably a langue secrète,” he said without any disproval. “A language that witches create for their secret spells. The first ones to accomplish it were from a French coven, thus the name.” He met my gaze with a look of pride that was strange to see in his face. He hadn’t looked at me like that since before Juniper had turned on him. “What now?” he said.
I swallowed a strange feeling in my throat. “This spell is incomplete. I’m drawing it from the memory of a relic I haven’t seen in two years.”
“I’m sure it’s as close as possible,” Ram said lightly.
I narrowed my eyes at him. What game was he playing?
