Ch2

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Caleb set the circle with tea lights in the kitchen of the bar, preparing his demonology book by flipping it over to the page with the resurrection spell. The incantation was practiced several times with varying results, getting more promising, but that didn't say much as nearly every time it had been an abject failure. That is, until recently.

"Hey, did anyone ever tell you not to play with fire?"

The voice came from the corner of the room as Caleb lit the first candle.

"No," Caleb replied, "Get in the circle."

The yellow, translucent ball of glowing energy that had spoken floated down from the top corner. It hovered over the sink as it vibrated with every pitch of its voice. As it drew closer toward the center of the circle, two legs formed, then a torso, sitting cross-legged as the arms and then finally the head formed. The figure glowed with a faint yellow light that haloed a golden orange hue, clearly the form of a man.

"That was me summoning you."

"Cute."

"Yeah, I'm adorable. Will you read the incantation?"

The faintly glowing man corkscrewed his lips. "Please, I really would rather not."

"It's Fòdil, a demon language dating back to ancient times. It's cool," Caleb reasoned.

There was a long silence.

"This is stupid," the voice said, faint and drawn out, light that took its time to reach Earth from the sun.

Caleb sighed.

The spirit was stubborn. He didn't have time for this back and forth. Caleb dug out a stick of chalk from the box he had bought at the dollar store. Actually, it cost him nothing. Caleb had snuck it in his basket on the way out.

"Then bless this chalk for me."

"Bless it?" the form vibrated. "Is this not a demonic ritual?"

"Well, damn it then," Caleb said.

He held out the chalk, where the figure twisted up his mouth and took it briefly between his pointer finger and thumb. It immediately clattered to the floor, glowing with a golden hue.

Caleb smiled. "Thank you."

He drew a white circle on the dark, oak wood floor, bumping over the indents where plank met plank, until it was a near-perfect circle around the tea lights. Caleb wished he had proper taper lights, as illustrated in the book of spells, but these would have to suffice.

"Okay, I'm going to read the spell now," the voice said. "Gnil zgea hrl vgmwl fmsc he hrl bnwnjv!"

As he voiced the last syllable, the flames leapt in an uproar, then all of them went out in an anticlimactic sizzle and the room went dark.

"Damn it, Liam!"

"How is it my fault?"

"You didn't say them fast enough. It's supposed to be said three times by the soul who wishes to be brought back."

"Caleb."

"No, don't apologize."

"Caleb."

"What?"

"Tea towel's on fire."

Caleb rushed to grab it and put it out with his bare hand. Now everything had truly gone dark except for the light of the moon shining in through the kitchen window. He looked at it in speculation. Caleb didn't understand Liam's hangup about being brought back, as he had resisted it several times over. Perhaps it was because it hurt to be brought back into his body, or perhaps it was because he lost his memory of the spiritual dimension when he gained his whole consciousness back.

FlashfireDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora