Left Hand Magic by Nancy A. Collins

Besides, I didn’t realize the curse was your work until I removed it.”
    “Well, thanks to your meddling, my client is demanding a refund!” Esau said angrily. “In the thirty years I’ve been dealing in afflictions, I have never had to return money to a client! And I expect you to make good on what you’ve cost me!”
    “Have you lost your mind?” Hexe snorted derisively. “You accuse me of hiding behind my mother, but you’re the one who’s constantly running to your sister to complain about me, instead of coming to my home and addressing your grievances to my face.”
    “You’ve made sure I’ll never set foot in that house again,” Esau snapped. “By renting out a room to a garden-variety nump, you’ve contaminated my childhood home and opened the door for others to follow!” Suddenly the necromancer did a double take in my direction. “What is that doing here?” he demanded, focusing a look of such venomous hatred upon me that my mouth went dry. I attempted to return his glare, but could not hold my gaze; it was like looking into the eyes of a king cobra readying to strike.
    “Her name is Tate,” Hexe said firmly, his hands curling into fists. “And she’s here with me.”
    “I’d heard rumors that your son was dallying with a nump,” Esau sneered. “Now I see it’s true. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s inherited his mother’s poor taste in bed partners.”
    Lady Syra gasped as if her brother had slapped her. Hexe stepped forward, his eyes flashing like polished shields. “You’ll apologize to my mother and my girlfriend right this minute!”
    “Or you’ll do what, exactly?” Esau scoffed. “You’re not wizard enough to make me do anything, whelp!”
    “Just try me and see, old man.”
    “That’s enough, Esau!” Lady Syra snapped, struggling to recover control of the situation. “And the same goes for you, Hexe! This is neither the time nor the place for a duel.”
    If Esau heard his sister, he showed no sign of it. Instead, his black, hateful gaze was now riveted on Hexe. “It’s time someone taught you a lesson about sticking your nose into Left-Handed business,” he said, flipping his half-cape out of the way.
    “I get enough of this foolishness already. I don’t need it in my own house,” Lady Syra shouted. “Esau, I command you to stand down!”
    Suddenly an orb of fire shot from the necromancer’s left hand. I recognized hellfire when I saw it, and I knew it burns whatever it touches to the bone. I automatically jumped to my feet, only to have Lady Syra snare my wrist, anchoring me to the spot as if I’d been grabbed by one of my own sculptures.
    Hexe raised his right hand and with a flick of his wrist sent the fiery projectile back the way it had come, like a tennis player returning an opening serve. Esau lifted his own right hand in an attempt to deflect the returning volley, but the fireball’s course remained unchanged and he was forced to jump out of the way as it zoomed past and struck the far end of the dining table, where it exploded like a paintball full of phosphorous. The flames spread rapidly, racing along the length of the tablecloth and jumping onto the adjoining chairs.
    Lady Syra let go of my hand and stretched her arms above her head, tilting her head back as she began to recite an incantation in a language that was old when the first pyramids were raised. Water poured down from nowhere, soaking everyone and everything in the dining room. The charred dining table hissed like a snake as the hellfire was extinguished. The Witch Queen then closed her hands into fists and the downpour halted as if turned off at a faucet.
    All of us were drenched, but Esau looked like he’d fallen into a carnival dunk tank, with his dark hair plastered to his skull and water dripping from his heavy woolen coat. It was the first time I’d ever seen the necromancer caught off balance, and I allowed myself a giggle. Esau glared daggers at me, but this time I held