Page 7 of The Spell Caster

Costi rubbed at the scruff growing on his face. “Shy demon?”

I stared at him.

He shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “Don’t know anything about familiars. You’ve gotta have one, though, if you cast. Try invoking.”

He was right. A flash of hope and excitement lit me, despite the dire situation. I gently took stock of my body and mind. Could I tell if there was a familiar bonded to me? Had that last spell worked after all? I was exhausted and hurting now, but before the attack, I hadn’t felt any different.

Demon familiars were their own entities, our ancient allies from a realm called Hell. They couldn’t speak or communicate beyond conveying their moods, and they came and went as they pleased. However, they could be called upon for battle, and they would respond.

Closing my eyes, I followed the mental sequence that we learned in school to invoke our familiars. I had tried it many times before, the first time my summoning failed, and again after the last one. The call echoed, seeming to move outside of me. I glanced around the bed. No demon. I sighed.

When I looked up at Costi, he was staring at me, his eyes moving around my face.

“I don’t think it worked,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

“No, guess not. It’s nothing. Just… are you okay? They got your shoulder pretty bad. Are you hurting anywhere else? You want some water?”

I looked down at my shoulder carefully, seeing the bandage peeking out from under a light fabric gown that was thankfully covered by the hospital blanket. “I think I’m all right. I’m tired, though. I didn’t sleep before all this.”

“Get some rest.” He brushed some stray hair away from my face. The kind gesture made my throat tighten.

It was too bright in here, and the chaotic sounds around us were too nerve-racking to even consider sleeping. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Aren’t you going to rest? You’re hurt too.”

“I am resting,” he said, raising his eyebrows. He leaned back and crossed his arms. “This stool is real comfortable.”

I breathed out a small laugh. I didn’t have the will to tell him he didn’t need to stay with me. Arguing with Costi was like trying to empty the sea with a cup. I had a feeling that if I didn’t keep him here, he would charge back out into the battle. “At least let them look at your cut—”

We were interrupted by the curtain opening.

Jenny Luna, one of our elected councilors, strode in. She cut a dramatic figure with her black ceremonial robes fluttering behind her. She cleared her throat. “I came as soon as I could. I only have a moment, but I wanted to thank you on behalf of the Council and the Circle.”

Costi and I shared a speechless look.

Councilor Luna was in her middle years, with bands of silver starting to creep into her short dark hair. Her blue eyes were tired. “You put on quite a show, Layla—the entire Circle felt the reverb from your spell. And Blackthorn, you managed to hold off a half dozen angels with just a dagger. Quite the team for a new guardian and a recent graduate.” She nodded in acknowledgment and regarded us gravely. “Well done. You saved lives tonight.”

“Thanks.” I glanced away, plucking at my blanket with my free hand. Costi was silent. I desperately hoped that with all of this chaos, no one would put together the fact that we were out alone after dark on the seawall.

The councilor looked me over. “Are you badly injured? Can you go back out? We need all our spell casters on defense for the evacuation.”

I blinked and opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Evacuation?

“Nope. She can’t cast,” Costi said. Relief washed through me.

“You burned yourself out? Cursed fate, that’ll take days to heal.” Councilor Luna swore, tugging a hand through her salt-and-pepper hair. Her phone dinged with a message, but she ignored it. “All right. I suppose that makes sense. That was a huge spell.” She turned to face Costi. “And you?”

“I’m good.”

What? He most definitely was not good. A line of fresh blood dribbled from the gash on his forehead. He looked exhausted.

“Then you need to get your spell caster out of here. We’re regrouping at the Mountain Circle.”

“What?” I said out loud this time. With my free hand, I pushed myself to a sitting position on the crinkling infirmary bed. Being careful of my IV, I pulled the thin blanket up to cover my chest.

“I’m sorry, Layla,” she said, patting me on the arm. “We simply can’t risk you. The Circle has been compromised. It’s too dangerous to stay here. If you can’t cast, you need to evacuate.”

---