Page 59 of The Spell Caster

Costi ran his fingers along my scalp and through my hair as he thought for a moment. “Caster magic is kind of like fire.”

“Yeah,” I said, starting to feel sleepy.

“It’s always like that, as far as I can tell. Different sizes, different intensity, but always fire. That’s the only thing I’ve ever seen. Everyone I asked said the same thing.”

My heart flipped. “You’ve been asking around?”

“I wanna get this figured out for you,” he said. “The fight was intense. Thought maybe I was seeing things, but…”

“What did you see?”

“Your magic was like water, like you pulled it up from the sea. And huge, bigger than any spell I’ve ever seen. It was boiling—it burned all six of them dead immediately.”

I kept my head tucked against him as I stared sightlessly at the bookshelf across the room. I felt… a connection with his words, my stomach churning. I’d been raised to kill angels, but it was something else entirely to be confronted with scalding them to death by the half dozen. But I knew, without a doubt, that spell had come through me.

“What does it mean?” I asked quietly, but neither of us had an answer.

The rain picked up outside, spattering against the windows, throwing the library into shadow. With no one to judge us, I clung to him, the only constant in my life that I could count on.

We stayed like that, quietly, until the night fell and the rain ended.

Chapter 12

LAYLA

The weather had broken overnight, leaving a cool morning breeze. Wearing a light cardigan over my black outfit, I sat outside the cafeteria with a muffin and tea. It would be Mabon in a few weeks, the autumn equinox. It was one of my favorite holidays, filled with fall decor. I wondered how the Mountain Circle celebrated as I picked up the dishes from my breakfast and looked around for the dish bin.

“Layla, good morning,” a voice startled me.

I turned to see Artemesia Rhodes, one of the Mountain Circle councilors I had met yesterday, leaning on her carved wooden walking stick. She was a tiny, elegant witch with hair gone entirely white, set in tight curls that haloed around her head. Her lined face was grave, with serious deep blue eyes. She wore the formal robes of the Arcaenum. This was official business.

“Hello, Councilor,” I said uncertainly.

“Walk with me a moment, won’t you?”

The councilor led me to a nearby trail that looped a wooded area. A jogger passed us with a wave, but otherwise it was secluded.

“I don’t much care for Cedar Grey,” she said without preamble, hauling herself forward using her stick as leverage. “I can tell you feel the same.”

I choked. “I’m sure he’s… It’s just that…”

Rhodes, breathing heavily, sank down onto a pretty carved bench lining the path and gestured to the space next to her.

I sat beside the councilor and cleared my throat. “I don’t agree with keeping secrets.”

Rhodes gave a nod of approval. “Layla, I’m a very old woman. I’ll be ninety-three in the spring.”

My eyebrows rose.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Now don’t you start. My point is, I’ve seen a lot of life, heard every idea.”

“You weren’t shocked. About the demon, I mean.”

“Not shocked, no,” she said. “In my day, it was common knowledge that we used to communicate with our allies in Hell. And that the Angeloi once had a more direct involvement in this world.”

I shivered, looking away. Angeloi. The unfamiliar word made me uneasy. “What does it all mean?”

“It means we need to be ready. You need to be ready.”

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