The Cost of Conjuring: A Bargain Beyond Blood

12. I hate people

I spend the next couple of days hiding in my room, trying to come up with a solution and failing spectacularly. I want to visit Cera but I'm too scared they'll catch me as soon as I leave the apartment.

When Saturday comes, my body almost feels normal again. It's just the cut on my hand that still itches.

My mind, on the other hand, seems to deteriorate a bit more every day. Like it built itself around my grand stupid plan to summon my family back and now it has no foundation to even start rebuilding itself upon.

It's hard to think. And even harder to care.

But I have to keep trying. Who else will help Cera and my family get back to the worlds where they belong? And I don't want my magic to get sealed. The thought I'll never feel it rush through me again is what gets me out of bed and into the shower to get ready for a night of what I assume will be pure torture.

It's past eleven when I venture downstairs as quietly as I can. Grandma is snoring in her armchair, effectively drowning out any noise I make.

Shadows move around the living room, hugging the furniture and trying to get some ground against the flickering light of the TV. It's too dark to see the smiling faces on the walls. But I know they're there.

A leaning stack of empty plastic containers from the TV dinners I had delivered sits on the edge of the coffee table, looking like the smallest breeze will tip them over.

I sneak past her into the entryway and even though I still have not fixed, or even cleaned, my coat, I put it on over the nicest clothes I could find in my wardrobe. A black, long-sleeved T-shirt and black jeans I spent too long scrubbing to get the white chalk stains off the knees.

Dressing up according to Li's instructions feels wrong in every kind of way. But I need all the help I can get. He's my only hope.

I unlock the door as slowly and quietly as I can, half expecting the magicians to wait for me on the other side. But the hallway is dark and empty, smelling of strange food and sharp cleaning products.

Instead of leaving through the front, I exit through the opposite door into the courtyard surrounded by four buildings identical to ours.

The cold fresh air hits me as I open the door and for the first time in days, I feel like myself again.

The moon is out so the trees and bushes spread a bit too evenly around the gravel path look eerie and magical in the bluish light. No one is lurking in the shadows, ready to jump out and grab me. I still feel on edge and like invisible eyes are watching me. Following my every move. It's a challenge to keep my pace at a just-strolling speed instead of running as fast as I can.

Using my key, I enter the building at the end of the path, walking through a hallway identical to the one I just left, and exit out the other end. If they have any kind of surveillance this will hopefully be enough.

I thought about doing a concealment spell, but that would require a circle I would not have time to remove as thoroughly as I would like. Giving them hard evidence like that feels like a bad idea. I could still try to talk myself out of whatever they know. Especially if Li can help me find out what that is.

But no one grabs me as I start walking towards the subway. I don't see another soul and as I wait on the platform, watching the subway I would take if I were going to Cera's leave with a screeching as if it too would much rather have me on it, I start to relax.

As I exit the station closest to the club fifteen minutes later it's to join a street that isn't dark or empty. Or quiet.

Light from the signs and windows of the bars, clubs, and restaurants battle with the street lights. Groups of people are moving between them, louder and so much more uncoordinated than in the daylight.

I slow down, trying to get the creeping feeling of wrongness to dial down.

The queue outside 'The Black Desert' disappears around the building, and I'm hit by the weirdest pang of hope that I won't reach the door until they close. That would work if I was just here to pay for the favor I owe him. Not ask for another, even bigger one.

So instead, I walk towards the door where Elf A, who's probably been tasked with keeping an eye out for me is standing sentry. For some reason, she doesn't see me until I'm right in front of her, as if I really am wearing a concealment spell.

For a second her normal disapproving look mixes with a frown and I file that anomaly away for later because right now I have enough to focus on. There are so many people.
I drag my feet but she just glares together with the sharp-looking clubbers at the front of the queue as I pass her into a world of smoke, colored lights, and thumping music.

I'd rather face the undead armies of the necromancers. That would at least end quickly.

I've been in the big room lots of times and I thought I was prepared to see it used to its fullest. That I could imagine the people, smoke, lights, smells, and vibrations from the deafening music and how it would feel to be among them. Oh, how wrong I was.

If Elf A wasn't blocking the door I would have turned around and run right back out into the cold air. Facing a magicless, confined rest of my life. Instead, I try to move out of the way of the stream of people talking, dancing, and laughing past like they're moving on invisible tracks.

It's so hot I have to remove my coat to avoid melting and join the unknown sticky puddles on the floor.

Hugging my coat like a shield I try to get away from all the people, moving in a jerky path to avoid slamming into dancing girls or guys carrying six glasses of beer until I find a place by the wall where no one has any reason to pass. Far away from the bar and whatever is on the other side of the smokescreen hanging over the dance floor that seems to draw people in like flies. It's still crowded enough to feel like riding the subway at rush hour but at least it's easier not to collide with anyone when I'm stationary.

I press my back against the wall and try to get my bearings.

My hair is sticking to my forehead and my shirt to my back. Why did I choose a long-sleeved one? The smoke mixes with the smell of sweat, beer, and something sweet making it revolting to inhale.

I liked the room a lot better when it was empty.