Ariel
trying then? Were you trying to do magic, or—"
    "I was curious," I interrupted, not wanting to be reminded of the affair. "I just wanted to see what would happen. I don't need proof that magic exists—why should I?" I hooked a thumb at Ariel.
    Malachi stood. "You tried a conjuration?"
    I nodded.
    "Yeah, tell him about it, Pete," Chaffney said. He looked at Malachi. "He told me about it in the library last night. It's a great story. Go on, Pete. This is Malachi's thing."
    Malachi rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I would like to hear it."
    I sat back in the threadbare chair. "You tell him," I told Ariel sullenly. "I'm tired of telling people about it."
    She snorted, but told him the whole mess pretty much as I had related it the previous night. The story gave me the creeps; I didn't want to repeat it. Not that listening to it was much better. The more I relived it the more I realized I must have got off lucky.
    There was silence when she finished. Malachi Lee searched my face for some reaction. "That's what happened?" he asked.
    "Yeah."
    He shook his head. "You're very fortunate, you know that?"
    "I'm beginning to appreciate it, yes."
    He went back to looking thoughtful and then walked to his bookcase, searching titles with sweeps of his index finger. It stopped in front of a black, leather-bound book. He pulled it out, opened it, and turned pages until his eyes rested on something that seemed to satisfy him. He read for a minute, nodding to himself, then handed the book to me. "Is this the conjuration you used?"
    The book was a dead weight. To touch it was to hold something grimy, like the oily dust that collects in garages. The archaic print, the yellowed pages—everything was the same as that other book. Even the leather was as worn and cracking. And the conjuration—no way I would forget that spell. It didn't matter that I hadn't known the meaning of the words; they looked foul and sounded worse. "Yes, this is it."
    "You're sure?" He looked as if he hoped I would deny it.
    "Positive."
    He took the book from me and held it open before Ariel. "Ariel?"
    She barely glanced at it. "I think it is. I don't remember very well."
    "Sure you do," I said. "You're the one who picked it out. You said you were curious about that one. You remember."
    "I don't read Latin," she said.
    "But last night you told Russ you knew what it meant." She avoided my gaze. "What's wrong?"
    "You knew what this was, didn't you?" Malachi asked her.
    The barest dip of her horn.
    "You knew what this meant and you let him go ahead? Why?"
    She turned away. "I thought I understood the risks."
    "Why?"
    Her head swiveled back and she looked darkly into his eyes. "I thought I could handle it!"
    "You thought you  .  .  .  . You mean you didn't even tell him?"
    "Tell me what?" I asked.
    "He wouldn't have done it! And I couldn't have. I can't make the motions, or—"
    "Do you need to test your power that much?" She was silent, but there was something in the way her eyes flashed at him that I'd never seen before: it was almost  .  .  . resentment. A woman scorned, perhaps. But she said nothing and the question hung thickly in the air.
    Malachi turned to me with the book. "Do you know what this means?"
    Ariel interrupted. "You don't have to—"
    "He deserves to know. Do you, Pete?"
    "Judging by the results I got from using it," I said carefully, "I would assume that it's a spell for conjuring a minor demon."
    "Oh, it's that, all right." His lips pressed together tightly. "This is the translation of the conjuration you used." He cleared his throat. I glanced questioningly at Ariel but she wouldn't meet my eyes.
      "I summon thee, O Dweller in the Darkness, O Spirit of the Pit. I command thee To make thy Most evil appearance.   "In the name of Our mutual benefactor, In the name of Lucifer the Fallen I conjure thee By his blood-lettered sacraments, By Hell and by Earth, To come to me now, In your own guise To do your will.   "I adjure thee in the name of The

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