Kim Harrison - White Witch, Black Curse

“Please don’t let go,” I said, tears of pain and heartache trickling down, and I felt her nod.

“Celero inanio!” I cried again, my tears evaporating as they fell to make glittering sparkles of salt, and still the rage burned in me, pulsing in time with my heart. The ley line streamed in like vengeance, burning, trying to take me with it like a mindless flood. I could smell my hair starting to burn. The scrape on my cheek felt like fire.

“Rachel, stop!” Ivy screamed, but I could see the sparkle of Kisten’s eyes in the flames, smiling at me-and I couldn’t.

A shadow darted between me and the roaring inferno. The heat beat at me as it blinked past. I could hear Edden swearing, and then the stone door shifting. A sliver of cool shade touched my knee, crept up my leg, and kissed the edge of my cheek. I leaned into it as the band of white vengeance narrowed. My balance left me and I collapsed. But I held on to the line. It was the only clean thing I had.

Ivy gave me a little shake to bring my attention to her. Her eyes were black with fear, and I loved her. “Let go of the line,” she pleaded, her tears burning as they hit me. “Rachel, let go of the line! Please!”

I blinked. Let go of the line?

The tunnel was plunged into darkness as Edden finally got the door shut. A wave of cold air burned my skin. My eyes slowly recognized the outline of her face as she held me. Edden’s silhouette grew more defined as a red glow became brighter, showing where the wall was thinnest, at the door. My fire still raged behind it, and the glow of the heat lit the tunnel with a soft haze.

Edden’s shape stared at the door, his hands on his hips. “Sweet mother of Jesus,” he breathed, then drew his hand back when he went to touch the lines the spell had etched in the door. I could see the bright ring of the charmed circle of iron embedded in the door. Radiating out from it were black threads making a spiral pentagram with arcane symbols. In the middle was my handprint, and it was molding to the spell, making it wholly mine. No one would open the door again.

“He’s gone! Let it go!” Ivy shouted, and this time, I did.

I gasped as the power shut off, jerking as the cold swarmed in to replace the heat. I clenched in on myself, whispering, “I take it. I take it. I take it,” before the imbalance could strike me. Tears leaked out through my clenched eyes as I felt the ugly black slither over me like a cool silk sheet. It had been a black curse, but I had used it without thought. Even so, the tears weren’t for me: they were for Kisten.

Silence apart from my rasping breaths. My chest hurt. It felt like it was burning. Nothing flowed in me. I was a burnt-out shell. Everything was silent, as if the sounds themselves had been turned to ash.

“Can you stand?”

It was Ivy, and I blinked at her, unable to answer. Edden leaned over us, and I cried out in pain when his arms slipped between Ivy and me, raising me up as if I were a child.

“Oh shit, Rachel,” he said when I fought back a wave of nausea. “You look like you’ve got a bad sunburn.”

“It was worth it,” I whispered. My lips were cracked, and my eyebrows felt singed when I touched them. The wall was still glowing as Edden shifted into motion. A spiderweb of black was etching through the door, turning the rock silver as it cooled. It was the curse that I had spoken, slowly lightening like stretch marks as the stone cooled. The door was fused shut, and my mark would warn anyone away from tampering with it. Not that I thought there was anything behind the door now.

I caught my breath in pain when Edden almost tripped and my tender skin was rubbed. Ivy touched my arm as if needing to reassure herself that I was okay. “Was that a ley line?” she asked hesitantly. “You did that with power right off a line, right?”

My chest hurt, and I hoped I hadn’t damaged my lungs. “Yeah,” I said softly. “Thank you for cushioning it.”

“You have that kind of power all the time?” she said, almost a whisper.

I went to nod, then thought better of it when my skin pulled. “Yes.”

The memory of the black magic symbol etched on the door rose through my thoughts. So it was a black charm. So what? I might be a black witch, but at least I was an honest one.

Edden slowly carried me back to the surface, silent but for his breathing. Everyone who knew Kisten had been murdered to satisfy a political agenda was either dead or in this hallway. My love would be remembered for dying to save Ivy’s and my life. That was why he had died, not because of someone’s whim. That was who Kisten was. Had been.

And no one would ever say different.

Though my mom was hundreds of miles away by now, my room still smelled like her light lavender perfume, wafting up from the dusty boxes stacked where Robbie had left them beside my bed. It had been nice of him to bring them all in while Mom showed me the brochure of the apartment she had waiting for her in Portland.

Kneeling beside my bed, I pulled the top box to me, reading my adolescent scrawl before I shoved the box aside to take to the brat pack at the hospital later. The moving van had shown up at my mom’s house yesterday, and I was tired of packing peanuts and bubble wrap, depressed by all the good-byes. Mom and Robbie had brought the last of my things over early this afternoon, waking me up and taking me out for a bon voyage breakfast at an old-lady eatery, since by Robbie’s guess her kitchen was already in Kansas. I think we got bad service because of my shunning, but it was hard to tell unless your waitress wrote BLACK WITCH on the back of your napkin. It didn’t matter. We weren’t in any hurry. The coffee sucked dishwater, though.

Robbie had been in a good mood because he’d paid for the moving van. Mom had been in a good mood because she had some excitement in her life. I was in a bad mood because she wouldn’t have had to do this if I hadn’t gotten shunned. It didn’t matter that my mother had been apartment hunting since getting back from visiting Takata. She was moving because of me. Robbie and my mom had probably landed by now, and all that remained of them in Cincinnati were six boxes, her new fridge in my kitchen, and her old Buick out front.

Melancholy, I pulled new tape off an old box, peeking inside to find my dad’s old ley line stuff. Making a pleased sound, I stood and hoisted the box onto a hip to take it to the kitchen.

The pixies were noisy up front in the sanctuary as I made my way to the back of the church, and I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights as I shoved the box on the center counter. In the corner, the little blue lights on my mom’s fridge glowed. It had a through-the-door ice dispenser, and Ivy and I had been thrilled when she gave it to us. The pixies had taken all of six seconds to discover that if three of them hit the ice dispenser together, they’d get a cube, which they then used like a surfboard to skate around the kitchen floor. Smiling at the memory, I left the box and went back to my room. I’d unpack it later.

The entire back part of the church had a chill air about it that couldn’t all be blamed on the late hour. Ivy being out might account for some of it, but most was because we had inherited my mom’s space heater along with half her attic. The electric heater was going full tilt up front, and the pixies were enjoying a hot summer evening in January, but since the thermostat for the entire church was in the sanctuary, the heat hadn’t clicked on in hours. It was cool away from the reach of the space heater, making me shiver in my still-tender skin. Coffee would be nice, but since having that grande latte…raspberry…thing, nothing seemed to taste good anymore.

Thoughts of cinnamon and raspberry dogged me back to my room, and I pulled the tape from the next box to find music I’d forgotten I ever had. Pleased, I shoved the box into the hall to go through with Ivy later.