looked around them at the firepots that still ringed
them and then at Asmodeus himself. Taking a breath, she nodded. “Magic all
right.”
Gabriel was intensely aware of their legs entwined,
conscious of the feel of his tail as it stroked from her calf up her thigh to
caress her hip and then slid back down again, his fingers as they traced the
curve of her breast. Her body warmed.
“I don’t understand. If you can do that, why can’t you get
out of here? How does all this work?”
The memory of passing between those outer rings suddenly
came back to her with unanticipated force, a wrenching of her stomach and an
atavistic horror so intense she shivered.
Asmodeus drew her closer and nodded, keeping his voice low
as he brushed a soothing hand down her arm, the gesture hidden by his wing.
“The explanation is at once simple and complex,” he said.
“Magic is all about intention and will, my angel. Some magic remains in your
world, in greater or lesser quantity. It is only whether some of those who
possess it know how to wield it. You no doubt see some of these lesser magics,
for example the man or woman who draws other people to them, consciously or
unconsciously, for good or ill. In our day we called such magics enchantments,
glamours or charismas.”
Nodding, Gabriel said, “We still do.”
She thought of the charismatic preacher she had investigated
who had conned thousands out of their life savings with promises of a better
world in the next life. Conversely, she also thought of the old woman in one of
the apartments below hers in D.C. who just seemed to draw people to her, giving
a kind word here, bestowing a warm smile there.
Then there was Templeton, who somehow managed to convince
people to trust him even though, by all evidence, he was patently
untrustworthy.
Catching the thoughts, the images, Asmodeus nodded. “Just
so. So Templeton cast this circle or had it cast and when he brought it into
being he did so with the intention that it be a trap.”
His own sense was that it was likely that whoever had helped
to cast it hadn’t done it willingly, and had paid for it with his life. There
was dark magic at work here, such a sacrifice would have been necessary to
create magic this strong.
“Like most such traps, it was designed to allow prey to
enter but not to escape. So, as with the firepots, I can conjure them here but
I can’t conjure them, myself, or you out. As with my brothers. If they come in
answer to my summons, they, too, would be trapped.”
Puzzled, Gabriel asked, “Why doesn’t he just summon them
himself, as he did with you?”
“It takes energy to summon and to hold them,” Asmodeus
explained. “There are some laws even magic must follow, as for example when I
summoned the firepots. First, they must exist in reality, I cannot call them up
out of clear air, it is not possible. I could perhaps summon the materials to
make them, but for the firepots themselves to be as they are, they must first
exist. So, these came from my own quarters on the other plane. There are other
laws as well.”
He hesitated, took a breath. “I said when they brought you
to me that I was starved, and so I was, for the energy to do magic. Each of us
only has so much energy within us, we can only do so much in a given day without
rest and sustenance and so it is true of magic. However, give us a dire need
and we will find more energy to do what must be done but there will be a price
to be paid for that later. And so another source of energy must be found.
Templeton has magic enough to secure his minions, to secure those with weaker
wills, such as the one at the podium. He hasn’t got the energy to summon
another.”
Whereas Asmodeus grew stronger with each feeding.
Gently, reassuringly, he tightened his fingers on her waist.
“So, they brought me you to feed from, not knowing the value of who they
brought. Food can only give so much. It is life that gives so much more than
sustenance, like
them and then at Asmodeus himself. Taking a breath, she nodded. “Magic all
right.”
Gabriel was intensely aware of their legs entwined,
conscious of the feel of his tail as it stroked from her calf up her thigh to
caress her hip and then slid back down again, his fingers as they traced the
curve of her breast. Her body warmed.
“I don’t understand. If you can do that, why can’t you get
out of here? How does all this work?”
The memory of passing between those outer rings suddenly
came back to her with unanticipated force, a wrenching of her stomach and an
atavistic horror so intense she shivered.
Asmodeus drew her closer and nodded, keeping his voice low
as he brushed a soothing hand down her arm, the gesture hidden by his wing.
“The explanation is at once simple and complex,” he said.
“Magic is all about intention and will, my angel. Some magic remains in your
world, in greater or lesser quantity. It is only whether some of those who
possess it know how to wield it. You no doubt see some of these lesser magics,
for example the man or woman who draws other people to them, consciously or
unconsciously, for good or ill. In our day we called such magics enchantments,
glamours or charismas.”
Nodding, Gabriel said, “We still do.”
She thought of the charismatic preacher she had investigated
who had conned thousands out of their life savings with promises of a better
world in the next life. Conversely, she also thought of the old woman in one of
the apartments below hers in D.C. who just seemed to draw people to her, giving
a kind word here, bestowing a warm smile there.
Then there was Templeton, who somehow managed to convince
people to trust him even though, by all evidence, he was patently
untrustworthy.
Catching the thoughts, the images, Asmodeus nodded. “Just
so. So Templeton cast this circle or had it cast and when he brought it into
being he did so with the intention that it be a trap.”
His own sense was that it was likely that whoever had helped
to cast it hadn’t done it willingly, and had paid for it with his life. There
was dark magic at work here, such a sacrifice would have been necessary to
create magic this strong.
“Like most such traps, it was designed to allow prey to
enter but not to escape. So, as with the firepots, I can conjure them here but
I can’t conjure them, myself, or you out. As with my brothers. If they come in
answer to my summons, they, too, would be trapped.”
Puzzled, Gabriel asked, “Why doesn’t he just summon them
himself, as he did with you?”
“It takes energy to summon and to hold them,” Asmodeus
explained. “There are some laws even magic must follow, as for example when I
summoned the firepots. First, they must exist in reality, I cannot call them up
out of clear air, it is not possible. I could perhaps summon the materials to
make them, but for the firepots themselves to be as they are, they must first
exist. So, these came from my own quarters on the other plane. There are other
laws as well.”
He hesitated, took a breath. “I said when they brought you
to me that I was starved, and so I was, for the energy to do magic. Each of us
only has so much energy within us, we can only do so much in a given day without
rest and sustenance and so it is true of magic. However, give us a dire need
and we will find more energy to do what must be done but there will be a price
to be paid for that later. And so another source of energy must be found.
Templeton has magic enough to secure his minions, to secure those with weaker
wills, such as the one at the podium. He hasn’t got the energy to summon
another.”
Whereas Asmodeus grew stronger with each feeding.
Gently, reassuringly, he tightened his fingers on her waist.
“So, they brought me you to feed from, not knowing the value of who they
brought. Food can only give so much. It is life that gives so much more than
sustenance, like
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