Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

“Right?”
    My hair was tickling my face, but I didn’t dare let go of Bis’s hand to brush it aside. “Right,” I said. “And besides, Jenks. I’ve got it already.”
    Trent’s face was alight, and I nodded at his unspoken question. Yep, I had it. It was doing flip-flops in my soul, and I didn’t want to think about what might happen if I accidentally let go of the bubble and the imbalance became a part of me, but I had it. It sort of hurt.
    “Your line sounds better already,” Bis said, his hand still in mine. “Do you remember what Newt’s line sounds like without the imbalance?”
    I bobbed my head, afraid to move. “Tune my aura to it?”
    “No!” Bis shouted, startling me as his wings half opened. And then softer, almost sheepishly, he said, “Not your aura, just the bubble around the imbalance.”
    I fidgeted, embarrassed that Trent had seen the near miss. “Should I think about Newt?”
    Bis’s red eyes widened. “I don’t think so.”
    “I wouldn’t,” Jenks said sourly. “Rachel, will you just dump that imbalance and get on with it? Your aura looks really creepy holding a chunk of Newt’s.”
    Trent was nodding his agreement, so I closed my eyes to better focus on the bubble of imbalance trapped in my mind’s eye. It was coated with my cheerful gold aura and a thin layer of demon smut, and I needed to shift it to . . . silvery gray red. Licking my lips, I screwed my face up as I tried to imagine silver pinpricks blossoming on my gold sphere, growing to encompass everything.
    “Tune it higher,” Bis whimpered, clearly in pain.
    “I’m trying!” I said, tightening my focus. My breath sucked in as the bubble flashed silver, overfocusing to a solid black. With a curious sideways shuffle, I pulled it back to silver, imagining a shading of a pure tinge of red lined with gray. For one breathless moment I held it, feeling my entire soul chime with the sound of silver light . . . And then it was . . . gone. There was a faint tug, and then even that severed, my awareness snapping back with a twang.
    “Rachel?”
    My eyes flew open at Trent’s call. He’d felt it. I thought he might. Heart pounding, I looked at Bis in the lamplight, Trent standing behind him with Jenks on his shoulder. The gargoyle looked as shocked as me. “Holy crap!” I shouted, my voice echoing back from the trees. “Did we—”
    “You did!” the small gargoyle exclaimed, and I ducked as he made one push with his wings and was through my circle and airborne, flying loops with the bats and yelling in delight.
    I beamed at Trent. We had done it. And if we had done it once, we could do it again and again until the line was fixed!
    “You did it, Rachel!” Bis said, startling me as he skidded to a landing on the gravel path, peppering my circle with kicked-up stones. His wings were spread and his eyes wild. “You did it! Look at that line! It sounds better already!”
    “ We all did it,” I said as I dropped the circle to put a hand on his shoulder. The glory of the lines flooded me, and yes, once I got past the discord, I could tell there was the faintest lessening of the leak. Relief filled me, and I swear, I almost cried.
    “Nicely done, Rachel.” Smiling up at Trent, I accepted his hand and stood. Our pinkie rings glinted together in the light, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. My hands were shaking, but I was ready to put another imbalance back if Bis was.
    Pulling my hand from Trent’s, I looked for Bis. “Another one?” I asked, my intention obvious, and he nodded from the retaining wall, his red eyes glowing in the lamplight.
    Jenks’s wings clattered as he dropped down, shrilling something so fast I couldn’t understand him.
    “You surprise me, Rachel,” came an oily voice from the dark, and I spun, heart pounding as I turned to the river. Ku’Sox? Crap on toast!
    “It’s Ku’Sox!” Jenks shouted, dripping an angry, frightened red dust. His sword was out, and his wings by my ear, harsh.
    “Not in that you figured it out,” Ku’Sox said, a small sphere of light blossoming in his hand to show his presence beside my screaming, damaged line, “but that you’re stupid enough to be out here alone.”
    Bis landed on my other side, puffing up as much he could by sucking in the moisture from the air. The size of a large dog, he crouched beside me with his tail thrashing.
    “She’s not alone,” Jenks spat, hovering at head height and brandishing his sword. “Back off,