Christian paused outside Mark's bedroom, hesitant to actively ask for help, though logically he knew Mark wouldn't be annoyed. After all, he had permission to ask.
Belatedly, he picked up the slow ebb and flow of dark power. Bad time? He'd been making a point of not disturbing his housemate anytime he could sense that. He’d grown up with powerful, potentially-dangerous liminals an everyday part of his life. He really didn’t know much about lamias—information in the library was thin, to put it generously, and he knew better than to take mythology or folklore seriously or literally—but he knew this one was at least reasonably friendly. Despite that, it would be foolhardy not to keep in mind how swiftly and ruthlessly she’d killed that parasite.
“I promise not to bite,” a voice called, audible through the door. Mark’s voice, but utterly female, and she sounded amused. “Stop hovering in the hall.”
What was he going to do, flee and try to explain later? Christian opened the door.
Alexandra was standing in front of the antique full-length mirror, with a magazine lying open on the grey-black-and-red comforter of the four-poster bed nearby. Currently, she was wearing a figure-hugging dress that seemed to be partly sheer and partly opaque, which might be very much like the one Christian could partially see in the magazine, though she was barefoot and the model seemed to be wearing scarily-high heels. Fleetingly, he wondered where her wings were: he could see no sign of them, and that dress covered her upper back, though otherwise it wasn't concealling much of anything.
In fact, it showed off curves that were just right. Distractingly so, in fact. One of the sheer areas allowed a shadowy glimpse of cleavage, visible in the mirror, and from here, he could see the way the soft fabric loosened over her hips and draped so fluidly from there over her bottom.
She turned away from the mirror and gave him a thoughtful look, then those metallic-black lips curved into a smile.
“Well? I assume you came looking for me for some reason.”
Christian dragged his thoughts away from those lips and creeping fantasies about them. He’d had a reason, he was sure of it. Oh. Right. “Are you busy?”
She shrugged. “I can experiment with new looks anytime. I'm toying with the idea of going out, but that's more for lack of other options at the moment. You are allowed to sit down, y'know.” Shadows rippled, and it was Mark, in his usual jeans and T-shirt, who perched on the edge of the bed. He closed the magazine and shoved it aside. “That should make you less uncomfortable. On multiple levels.”
“Sorry. I mean, I’m used to liminals, but it’s... it’s really hard to focus.” Christian settled himself in the room’s one comfortable chair.
“We can work on that. Why did you ask if I’m busy?”
“Hm? Oh. Um, I feel a little guilty asking for help.”
“I told you that you could ask. If I don't want to, I'll say no without getting mad, so just ask.”
“I’m okay at doing summoning spells for liminals, but elemental ones are different. I've been practising the elemental summonings my grandfather and mom taught me, but they don't call anything that'll do more than tell me whether there's rain coming or take care of the plants in the loft for me. There's a more powerful one that I want to try, one I know my family use. I've been studying it until I know it backwards and forwards, but I'd feel a lot more confident if you were around in case I mess it up.”
“Advance warning on what I already promised,” Mark pointed out. “Yes, I'll come. What are you calling?”
“The genius loci, basically. The earth elemental associated with this location. ‘Location’ is a bit fuzzy since there are no hard borders, but I bet it’s at least aware of our yard, especially because of my dad.”
Mark half-closed his eyes, studying him like a cat. “Really.”
“The same book has hints about how to tap into the ley-lines of a given place, but I haven't totally worked that out yet, and I know no one in my family can do it. My dad can sense them easily and track them, but as far as I know, he's never seen any reason to try to learn to use them. Um, you know how ley-lines work, right? Everything living sheds energy, which gathers into streams and then into rivers and meets at nodes? Like the one under the house?”
Mark nodded. “In very general terms, yes.”
“There are a couple of passages that I'm pretty sure imply that one way to find out what you need is by asking the local earth elementals, which seems sort of obvious once you think about it. There just isn't enough information in the book, but you wouldn't put details of something as potentially dangerous as using ley-lines in a book in plain English. If you can't build enough of a rapport with the right elementals, you can't do it. Make sense?” Christian stopped, aware that his enthusiasm for the subject was making him talk more rapidly, and that he could keep going indefinitely.
“Perfectly,” Mark said. “Now? Library?”
“I was thinking that the back yard might be a better place. It’s a less controlled setting but it will probably feel more welcoming. But now would be great.”
“That's fine. Alexandra will probably be distracting, so I suppose it would be better to stay Mark, even if I don’t have as many senses.” Mark stood up, picked up the magazine, and strode over to the door, pausing to wait for him.
Downstairs, in the back yard, Christian had already laid out a neat double circle on the goundcover that passed for grass—made from thick lines of birdseed. It had taken him a while to do, staking one end of a string in the centre and making a thin version of the inner line that way, then going over it and adding the outer line. Several symbols from varied origins that might serve as protection or enhance the summoning in other ways, had been painted neatly on old bathroom tiles from the basement so the wind wouldn’t disturb them. One of the brownies was keeping watch and shooing away birds, but scurried off when Christian came out the back door. The sun was dropping towards the horizon, but not close to it yet; darkness wouldn’t be a problem, but being cold could become a worrying distraction, as he’d discovered with the trolls. He didn’t expect this to take so long it became an issue.
“Unless you ask me something, or need me to step in, this is entirely in your hands,” Mark said, settling himself with feline grace in one of the patio chairs and opening the magazine. From what Christian could see of the front cover, it wasn't the sort sold at the corner store, and he somehow doubted Mark was reading it for the same reason as most of its audience.
Christian nodded. “Thanks.”
Mark shrugged and smiled. “I don't think you're going to need me, anyway.”
* * *
Mark relaxed in his chair, observing Christian thoughtfully. It would certainly be interesting to see if he could eventually tap into the ley-lines. Overflowing with curiosity and intelligence and natural talent... how long would it be before Alexandra had to start guarding him from jealous fellow witches, not just keeping predatory liminals at a safe distance and protecting him from the consequences of his own compassion?
He watched while Christian called the genius loci, or rather juno loci, since it manifested itself as a serene, voluptuous brown woman. That said a great deal about Christian's visualizations, which were, as Mark understood it, part of what determined the appearance of a summoned elemental. The juno clearly felt invited and welcomed, not forced and threatened, and answered his questions willingly, pleased by his respectful treatment of her. In fact, after a fairly lengthy conversation, while the sun edged below the horizon, the juno suggested gently that he not overtire himself, and that he call her another time.
She likes the way he talks to her, Mark mused. That's a talent witches always overlook the power of. Much more effective and reliable than bindings.
Christian conceded, and undid the calling with a sure, light touch.
Carefully, he stretched; Mark quickly pretended to be engrossed in his magazine. No point in making him self-conscious. Only when the young witch started to stand up did he close it and put it down, rising and drawing one of the other patio chairs closer for him.
Just to take advantage of extended senses, because the house shields extended across the yard and no one outside would notice, he switched to being Alexandra. Christian’s energy felt low, enough so that she would have chosen someone else if he were potential prey and she didn't want to kill, but she saw no reason to believe he was in actual danger. She took far more than that and her prey recovered, although that wasn't precisely the same energy.
“Thanks,” Christian said, his voice just a little fast and loud. “That took more out of me than I expected. Sorry I kept you here all evening for nothing.”
“Better here and not needed than needed and not here,” Alexandra said, deliberately pitching it to be calm and reasonable.
“True, I s'pose.”
“I think you overextended a little. Not much, though. Did you get what you wanted?”
“Maybe. I need to think about it.”
Alexandra switched back to Mark, for Christian’s sake. He stayed near until Christian was more grounded, extracted a promise that he would eat something to replace lost energy and then go directly to bed, and only then let him be.
Christian paused outside Mark's bedroom, hesitant to actively ask for help, though logically he knew Mark wouldn't be annoyed. After all, he had permission to ask.
Belatedly, he picked up the slow ebb and flow of dark power. Bad time? He'd been making a point of not disturbing his housemate anytime he could sense that. He’d grown up with powerful, potentially-dangerous liminals an everyday part of his life. He really didn’t know much about lamias—information in the library was thin, to put it generously, and he knew better than to take mythology or folklore seriously or literally—but he knew this one was at least reasonably friendly. Despite that, it would be foolhardy not to keep in mind how swiftly and ruthlessly she’d killed that parasite.
“I promise not to bite,” a voice called, audible through the door. Mark’s voice, but utterly female, and she sounded amused. “Stop hovering in the hall.”
What was he going to do, flee and try to explain later? Christian opened the door.
Alexandra was standing in front of the antique full-length mirror, with a magazine lying open on the grey-black-and-red comforter of the four-poster bed nearby. Currently, she was wearing a figure-hugging dress that seemed to be partly sheer and partly opaque, which might be very much like the one Christian could partially see in the magazine, though she was barefoot and the model seemed to be wearing scarily-high heels. Fleetingly, he wondered where her wings were: he could see no sign of them, and that dress covered her upper back, though otherwise it wasn't concealling much of anything.
In fact, it showed off curves that were just right. Distractingly so, in fact. One of the sheer areas allowed a shadowy glimpse of cleavage, visible in the mirror, and from here, he could see the way the soft fabric loosened over her hips and draped so fluidly from there over her bottom.
She turned away from the mirror and gave him a thoughtful look, then those metallic-black lips curved into a smile.
“Well? I assume you came looking for me for some reason.”
Christian dragged his thoughts away from those lips and creeping fantasies about them. He’d had a reason, he was sure of it. Oh. Right. “Are you busy?”
She shrugged. “I can experiment with new looks anytime. I'm toying with the idea of going out, but that's more for lack of other options at the moment. You are allowed to sit down, y'know.” Shadows rippled, and it was Mark, in his usual jeans and T-shirt, who perched on the edge of the bed. He closed the magazine and shoved it aside. “That should make you less uncomfortable. On multiple levels.”
“Sorry. I mean, I’m used to liminals, but it’s... it’s really hard to focus.” Christian settled himself in the room’s one comfortable chair.
“We can work on that. Why did you ask if I’m busy?”
“Hm? Oh. Um, I feel a little guilty asking for help.”
“I told you that you could ask. If I don't want to, I'll say no without getting mad, so just ask.”
“I’m okay at doing summoning spells for liminals, but elemental ones are different. I've been practising the elemental summonings my grandfather and mom taught me, but they don't call anything that'll do more than tell me whether there's rain coming or take care of the plants in the loft for me. There's a more powerful one that I want to try, one I know my family use. I've been studying it until I know it backwards and forwards, but I'd feel a lot more confident if you were around in case I mess it up.”
“Advance warning on what I already promised,” Mark pointed out. “Yes, I'll come. What are you calling?”
“The genius loci, basically. The earth elemental associated with this location. ‘Location’ is a bit fuzzy since there are no hard borders, but I bet it’s at least aware of our yard, especially because of my dad.”
Mark half-closed his eyes, studying him like a cat. “Really.”
“The same book has hints about how to tap into the ley-lines of a given place, but I haven't totally worked that out yet, and I know no one in my family can do it. My dad can sense them easily and track them, but as far as I know, he's never seen any reason to try to learn to use them. Um, you know how ley-lines work, right? Everything living sheds energy, which gathers into streams and then into rivers and meets at nodes? Like the one under the house?”
Mark nodded. “In very general terms, yes.”
“There are a couple of passages that I'm pretty sure imply that one way to find out what you need is by asking the local earth elementals, which seems sort of obvious once you think about it. There just isn't enough information in the book, but you wouldn't put details of something as potentially dangerous as using ley-lines in a book in plain English. If you can't build enough of a rapport with the right elementals, you can't do it. Make sense?” Christian stopped, aware that his enthusiasm for the subject was making him talk more rapidly, and that he could keep going indefinitely.
“Perfectly,” Mark said. “Now? Library?”
“I was thinking that the back yard might be a better place. It’s a less controlled setting but it will probably feel more welcoming. But now would be great.”
“That's fine. Alexandra will probably be distracting, so I suppose it would be better to stay Mark, even if I don’t have as many senses.” Mark stood up, picked up the magazine, and strode over to the door, pausing to wait for him.
Downstairs, in the back yard, Christian had already laid out a neat double circle on the goundcover that passed for grass—made from thick lines of birdseed. It had taken him a while to do, staking one end of a string in the centre and making a thin version of the inner line that way, then going over it and adding the outer line. Several symbols from varied origins that might serve as protection or enhance the summoning in other ways, had been painted neatly on old bathroom tiles from the basement so the wind wouldn’t disturb them. One of the brownies was keeping watch and shooing away birds, but scurried off when Christian came out the back door. The sun was dropping towards the horizon, but not close to it yet; darkness wouldn’t be a problem, but being cold could become a worrying distraction, as he’d discovered with the trolls. He didn’t expect this to take so long it became an issue.
“Unless you ask me something, or need me to step in, this is entirely in your hands,” Mark said, settling himself with feline grace in one of the patio chairs and opening the magazine. From what Christian could see of the front cover, it wasn't the sort sold at the corner store, and he somehow doubted Mark was reading it for the same reason as most of its audience.
Christian nodded. “Thanks.”
Mark shrugged and smiled. “I don't think you're going to need me, anyway.”
* * *
Mark relaxed in his chair, observing Christian thoughtfully. It would certainly be interesting to see if he could eventually tap into the ley-lines. Overflowing with curiosity and intelligence and natural talent... how long would it be before Alexandra had to start guarding him from jealous fellow witches, not just keeping predatory liminals at a safe distance and protecting him from the consequences of his own compassion?
He watched while Christian called the genius loci, or rather juno loci, since it manifested itself as a serene, voluptuous brown woman. That said a great deal about Christian's visualizations, which were, as Mark understood it, part of what determined the appearance of a summoned elemental. The juno clearly felt invited and welcomed, not forced and threatened, and answered his questions willingly, pleased by his respectful treatment of her. In fact, after a fairly lengthy conversation, while the sun edged below the horizon, the juno suggested gently that he not overtire himself, and that he call her another time.
She likes the way he talks to her, Mark mused. That's a talent witches always overlook the power of. Much more effective and reliable than bindings.
Christian conceded, and undid the calling with a sure, light touch.
Carefully, he stretched; Mark quickly pretended to be engrossed in his magazine. No point in making him self-conscious. Only when the young witch started to stand up did he close it and put it down, rising and drawing one of the other patio chairs closer for him.
Just to take advantage of extended senses, because the house shields extended across the yard and no one outside would notice, he switched to being Alexandra. Christian’s energy felt low, enough so that she would have chosen someone else if he were potential prey and she didn't want to kill, but she saw no reason to believe he was in actual danger. She took far more than that and her prey recovered, although that wasn't precisely the same energy.
“Thanks,” Christian said, his voice just a little fast and loud. “That took more out of me than I expected. Sorry I kept you here all evening for nothing.”
“Better here and not needed than needed and not here,” Alexandra said, deliberately pitching it to be calm and reasonable.
“True, I s'pose.”
“I think you overextended a little. Not much, though. Did you get what you wanted?”
“Maybe. I need to think about it.”
Alexandra switched back to Mark, for Christian’s sake. He stayed near until Christian was more grounded, extracted a promise that he would eat something to replace lost energy and then go directly to bed, and only then let him be.
