Listen, I thought, feeling the ley line within me, tasting it. I was everywhere, in every line on the continent. Or at least I had the potential for it. Bis's presence was with me. His mental texture slipped through my protective bubble, bringing with him the discordant sensation of another line. It was as if I could see, taste, hear, the lingering aura that Al had left behind on it, shifting the sound a little deeper, the taste a little more bitter. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever felt. Bis brought the taste of the new line in with him. Otherwise, I'd never be able to sense it past my own bubble. And now that I knew what it sounded like, I could find it.
Confident from success, I reached a thought past my bubble to pick out the line he'd used from the myriad lines crisscrossing the Cincinnati mindscape.
That was a mistake.
Shock vibrated through me - and then the pain hit.
I had no breath, but I screamed. Fire poured through my veins to illuminate my soul - the entire line filled me, unfiltered. My mind rebelled, and my thoughts went white. Tulpa! I screamed, but there was too much. I couldn't spindle creation, and my neurons burned.
Al! I begged in my thoughts, but he couldn't hear me. I'd done something wrong. My memory was charring, flaking from me in sheets of thought.
I had to get out before I burned to nothing. There had to be a way. I had... to listen... through the pain. Where was Al?
Somehow I found him. Somehow I found Al's sarcastic thoughts, bitter and old. Tired, angry, bored. Alone.
Whimpering, I shifted what was left of my aura, modifying it to match the line he had used, and with a last gasp, I shoved myself into it. With the feeling of spiderwebs made of ice, and fog made of fire, I tore my way back into reality.
My face hit a dirty flat carpet, and I dropped my pain amulet.
"Oh. Shit." I breathed, arms shaking as I tried to push myself up, failing. That's okay. It's nice just to lie here.
"Rachel!" I heard Bis cry. Al snarled something, then bellowed in pain. And then Bis was with me. "Rachel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
"It's okay," I said, hoping he didn't touch me. I'd freaking pass out. My eyes were shut, and slowly my mind was rebuilding itself. A savage smile curled my lips up. I had done it. Damn it, I had jumped the lines!
"Brooke, there's two of them!" I heard Vivian exclaim, but I couldn't move yet.
"Only one of them is Rachel," Brooke snapped. "Which one?"
Bis hissed, and I heard a scraping of claws. A sharp sound of a smack, and a feminine hand grabbed my wrist. "Ow!" I yelped as Al, looking exactly like me, jerked me up.
"I'd say the one not in charge," Brooke said, sounding smug.
My breath came fast, and I scanned the dirty, rectangular room as I found my balance: wood floor with a glowing pentagram laid down with salt, cement-stone walls, low ceilings, really small windows, and a broken table shoved against the big archway leading to a balcony barely big enough to stand on. I could hear water running over rocks somewhere in the dusk. Bis was slumped against the far wall by the stairs, shaking off Al's blow. Brooke and Vivian were standing before us, Vivian looking like she wished she were somewhere - anywhere - else, the skin around her neck red and blistered from being pixed, her clothes a mess, and her heels scuffed. She'd been taking a beating the last couple of days, and it showed.
Al had already gotten out of Brooke's circle by all appearances. No wonder, seeing that he looked like me in black leather and a TAKATA STAFF T-shirt. How had he known what shirt I was going to wear? And where am I? I thought, still confused.
It looked like a bad Hollywood set lit by candles, smelling of spilled wax, dirt, burnt amber, and mold. It was the last one that did it. "Holy crap, are we at Loveland Castle?" I asked, and Al gave me a shake, swinging my attention back to him. Or me, maybe. Damn, he'd even done the eyes this time, and it was like looking in a mirror.
"What the Turn are you doing, jumping with an untrained gargoyle?" he said as he held me up by one shoulder. "You could have killed yourself!"
I couldn't focus well yet, and my stomach lurched. "Well, maybe you should teach me how, then." My bile rose, and I forced it down. I was not going to barf on Al. Not in front of Brooke. Maybe later. Where's my pain amulet?
"I told you this was a bad idea," Vivian said. "Now there's two of them."
Oh God, my head hurt. Al let me go, and I staggered, only to fall down again in the middle of that big pentagram. He was wearing my boots, or at least replicas of the one I'd left in the ever-after. It was the only difference between us. Fingers stretching, I reached for my amulet, sighing when my fingers snagged it and the pain in my head dulled.
"You didn't do it right, itchy witch," Al said, then flung out a hand when Brooke threw a ball of something at us. "Bitch," he said absently as a black sheet of ever-after sprang up around us. He'd set a circle. Al had set a protection circle. I'd only seen him do that once, maybe twice, before. "Look what you made me do," the demon snarled. "I hope you're satisfied. I had to set a circle. I've not set a circle this side of the lines since Piscary tried to get me to kill you. Proud of yourself?"
His syntax sounded funny coming from my face. "Not especially," I said, then yelped when he yanked me to my feet. From the rafters, Bis hissed.
The pop of a spell hitting the black-sheened protection circle thumped through me. It was followed by several more as Vivian and Brooke tried to break through with their lethal white charms. I tried to see a glimmer of APs gold aura, seeing only black. Nothing remained.
"Let her go!" Bis exclaimed, ignored as he dropped through Al's circle.
"I ought to throttle you," Al snarled, red hair twin to my own swinging into his face. It sort of put a new spin on the phrase killing yourself. "And your little gargoyle, too," he added, making Bis dart back out of the circle when the wood at his feet started to smolder.
Oh yeah, my fuzzy brain thought. Pierce and the gun.
"I didn't know," I gasped. "I forgot Pierce had my splat gun. Damn it, Al, I was stoned out of my mind! Why am I always trying to prove myself to you? How about a little trust?"
Al loosened his hold. It was like looking in a mirror, but I doubt I ever had that angry a snarl before. His attention jerked past me as I felt a drop in the ley line. They were trying to reset their summoning circle to trap us. Grimacing, Al muttered a word of Latin.
Vivian yelped, leaping to the side when Al's circle dropped, broken by his magic tearing through it. A new, nasty ooze dripped from the wall behind her.
"Pierce is a jerk," I said, feeling the ice pick in my head start to dissolve. "You were right. I'm wrong. His shooting at you wasn't my idea. You know he's trying to kill you. What did you expect?"
Al's eyes went from green to their usual red, goat-slitted ugliness. "I'm right and you're admitting it?" he said, his tone lightening. His hand opened, and I fell, yelping. The scent of musty carpet puffed up, and I looked around the sunset-gloomed air. Loveland Castle?
I got up and looked at Brooke, taking in her bloodied lip, wild hair, white face, and grim determination. It seemed like we were at a stalemate. "Loveland Castle?" I questioned her. "You've got to be kidding me."
"You are on thin ice, student," Al interrupted, his accent perfect, proper highbrow English coming from my body.
Brushing myself off* I sidled next to him. "Good thing I know how to skate. You mind not looking like me?" I knew I should be scared, but hell, I'd jumped a line to be here.
Al smirked at my sour attitude, and a sheet of ever-after coated him. He gained bulk, height, and a ruddy complexion. "Being you got me out very quickly," he said, again himself as he tugged his lace straight. "It's amazing how your pretty face opens doors."
"I bet."
Another drop in the line brought both Al's and my attention up, and we were trapped as Brooke's circle rose again. "I have you!" Brooke exclaimed. "You're mine! I did it!"
Sighing, I shook my head in disbelief as Al grumbled. This was not my day.
Bis dropped through the circle holding us, his red eyes whirling and the white tuft of fur on the end of his tail bristling. Wings beating to make my hair fly, he landed on my shoulder. Cincinnati's lines exploded in my mind, and my knees buckled as I reached for Al.
The gargoyle hissed as Al pulled me up. "Make a circle around your thoughts," he muttered so only Bis and I could hear. "You look like a drunk like that."
It wasn't hard, and immediately the humming between my ears stopped, and I stood under my own power. "Thank you," I whispered, trying to get a finger between Bis's tail and my neck. The kid was scared to death. He had abandoned me in the lines after I'd fried myself. It wasn't his fault, but I'd be surprised if he left me now even if I told him to go.
Brooke was almost hopping in delight, but Vivian looked ill. "Brooke," the youngest coven member said, "there are two of them in there."
"I know!" she said in delight. "We circled them both!"
"You circled them," Vivian said. "Not me. This is against the coven. One of them is a demon."
"The hell with it!" Brooke said, her delight tarnishing. "They're all shortsighted hacks."
"I didn't agree to this!" Vivian protested, backing up. "You summoned a demon, not Rachel Morgan! Did you stop to think about what that makes you?"
Brooke's eyes narrowed and she stiffened. "I have control of this situation" she said stiltedly. "I'm not a demon summoner. I just want the one to kill the other is all."
Whoops.
Bis's wings shifted as I turned to Al. The demon's eyebrows were high as he eyed me over his round smoked glasses. "Perhaps you should do something, Rachel?" he suggested.
"Demon!" Brooke exclaimed as I touched her circle to find it humming a warning at me. "I demand that you kill Rachel Morgan."
I spun to face Al, my back hitting the bubble until I jerked away at its burning. Kill me?
Bis spread his wings, claws pinching my shoulder. "You're not touching her," he hissed.
Al, though, wasn't moving. He gave me a glance, then put a hand behind his back to look elegant in his crushed green velvet and shiny buckled shoes. His visible hand became a fist in its white glove, and his lip curled in disgust. "Who?" he said disdainfully; then he muttered to me, "Best hurry, itchy witch. I can stall for only so long."
My breath exploded from me. He didn't want to do it, but he would.
"That demon in there with you, dolt!" Brooke shouted, pointing.
Holy crap, I had to get out of here!