The Turn Read online

  Daniel’s pulse quickened, and he sat down fast, the straw poking him roughly even as the old bale threatened to split.

  “No.” Trisk turned away, her head bowed. “This is my mistake. I pay for it.”

  “Trisk . . .”

  She shook her head, clearly unhappy as she poured a thick line of what looked like white sand in a large circle nearly six feet in diameter. Clearly disapproving, Quen stood and watched as she then set a candle in the middle and a dish of what looked like ash.

  “Kind of big for a circle, isn’t it?” Quen asked, and Trisk looked up, lips pressed.

  “I’m hoping that with a larger circle, he won’t be as eager to try to break it.”

  He? Daniel wondered, edging toward the open door. Oh yeah, the demon.

  “It will make him harder to contain, too,” Quen said, then louder, “Go ahead and run. She can’t stop me from killing you if you’re in a field of pecan trees.”

  “Quen,” Trisk complained, but Daniel halted.

  “This is foolish!” Quen exclaimed. “At least let me knock him out.”

  Trisk straightened from over her candle. It hadn’t been lit a moment ago, but now the flame burned fitfully, finally catching to flicker in the draft from the door. Daniel would swear he hadn’t heard a match being struck. “No,” she said, and Quen’s jaw clenched. “Will you give us a moment?” she asked.

  “He won’t remember it,” Quen said, and she sniffed, expression miserable.

  “I will.”

  Clearly peeved, Quen spun on a heel to leave, but he jerked to a halt before Daniel. “If you run, I will leave her to chase you down. If she then dies at the hand of her demon, I will still kill you, but it will be long and painful. Understand?”

  Daniel looked past Quen at the circle and candle, not knowing if he should be afraid the demon was real, or that they believed he was.

  “Understand?” Quen said louder, and Trisk frowned at them both.

  “I won’t run,” Daniel said, but it was obvious Quen didn’t believe it as he went to stand at the barn door, his shoulders tense in distrust as he faced away from them.

  Trisk sat beside him on the bale of straw, her head bowed. She looked utterly alone, and feeling his own anger begin to dissolve, Daniel lost his frown. He could smell cinnamon and wine, but he’d swear she’d been drinking iced tea. “I’m sorry,” Trisk said, her voice low.

  “For what?” he asked. “That you can do magic or that your bodyguard wants to kill me?”

  She looked up, her brown eyes catching the glow from the lamp as the sun went down and the light failed. “Quen isn’t my bodyguard. He’s my friend.”

  Daniel watched Quen’s shoulders hunch, guessing that “friend” was not what Quen wanted to be, but that he liked her too much to risk ruining what he had. Daniel knew the feeling.

  “I wish I could explain,” she said, watching her fingers twist about themselves, “but it’s not going to matter in a few minutes. We’re only going to take away little chunks of time so you’ll be safe. You won’t remember this at all.”

  “This is not cool, Trisk—” he started.

  “Don’t,” she blurted, clearly trying not to cry. “The law says you have to die to preserve the secret of our existence.” She laughed bitterly. “We make a mistake, and you die for it. But not this time.” Trisk raised her head, her breath steadying. “After this, I’m going to go to NASA.”

  Daniel felt his expression go slack. “Why? Trisk, you know they’ll make you their collective assistant. You’ll hate it there.”

  Her head dropped again. “Call it punishment. But at least my research will be acted on, right? And isn’t that all that’s important?” she said, voice rising. “That something I did means something? Who cares whose name is on it if it helps people,” she finished, breath catching.

  “Stay here,” Daniel said, hating to see her so miserable. “We can—”

  But she shook her head, taking his hands to force him to look at her. “If I stay, the memory charm will break apart again, even a demonic one. I have to go.”

  He sat back, his anger tightening his shoulders. “I wouldn’t tell anyone you’re a witch.”

  She started, and at the open door, Quen turned to stare at him. “We, uh, aren’t witches,” she said, and Quen cleared his throat in warning.

  “Then what are you?” Daniel questioned.

  Quen coughed. “He doesn’t need to know this,” he said, his voice tight in warning as he used his weight to pull the barn door closed and shut out the night. “We’re wasting time.”

  “I’m sorry,” Trisk said as she stood, her smile forced. “Stay here, and whatever you do, don’t say anything. We’re going to be dealing with a very dangerous person who uses knowledge like a weapon.”

  “You’re telling him too much,” Quen said tightly, and her shoulders stiffened.

  “I don’t care, Quen,” she shot back, then spun to put her back to both of them, staring at the candle flickering in the middle of her circle. “Septiens,” she whispered, and without warning or fanfare, a shimmering wave of something sprang up from the sand, coming together at the top to form half a sphere. It shimmered like a heat wave, and Daniel would’ve gotten up to investigate, but Quen was glaring at him to stay put.

  “Algaliarept,” Trisk whispered. “I summon you.”

  Daniel’s lips parted as a sudden haze in the middle of her circle solidified into . . . “A hippie?” he questioned, seeing a thick, somewhat tall man in baggy but exquisitely embroidered clothes. He wore a full-sleeved red shirt under a long vest. His dark hair was pulled back and his beard was thick. But then Daniel saw his eyes, and his breath caught. It wasn’t that they were red and slitted like a goat’s. There was anger in them—and a need to hurt.

  “It’s not a hippie, it’s a demon,” Quen said, grim-faced. “He looks like that to lull you into thinking he’s safe.”

  “He doesn’t look safe to me,” Daniel whispered, and the man with his mix of casual disregard and brute strength gave him a knowing smirk as round blue-tinted glasses misted into existence, perched on the bridge of his strong nose. The scent of burnt tree sap grew cloying. Daniel stared, memory tickling the top of his brain. He’d seen this before . . . smelled it.

  Trisk shifted from foot to foot, her shoulders up around her ears. “I like the Victorian dandy better,” she said, and the demon looked down at himself, sniffing as he eyed his bare toes.

  “You lust after dangerous subtext,” the demon said, his deep, noble British accent familiar. “I can scratch that itch, little bird, scratch it until you writhe for more.” Smiling to show flat, blocky teeth, the demon tapped the barrier with a finger, and the haze between them dimpled. “You’d enjoy what I’d do to you. Promise.”

  My God. I remember this, Daniel thought as a feeling of vertigo cascaded over him. Pulse hammering, he tore his attention from the demon to look at Trisk, then Quen, in horror. It was all real. It hadn’t been bluster, Quen really wanted to kill him! Buried-in-the-back-of-the-barn kill him!

  As if pulled by his fear, the demon’s gaze fastened on him, his thick shoulders cracking as he leaned closer to the barrier. Daniel swore he could hear a thrum of warning, and indeed, a wisp of smoke seemed to rise where the demon touched it, and the scent of burning sap became strong. “Two elves and a human walk into a barn.” The demon grinned. “Sounds like a joke to me, Felecia Eloytrisk Cambri.”

  Elf, Daniel thought, looking at Quen and Trisk. Not witch. Would that make Kal an elf as well? They all went to the same school, apparently. Why are they geneticists?

  “I need something,” Trisk said, seemingly breathless.

  The beach guru crossed his arms across his middle, eyes rolling. “Of course you do,” he said, and then all three of them jumped when the demon lashed a fist into the barrier. Black smoke rolled up to show the curve of the circle, and with a start, Daniel realized the choking burnt-sap smell was coming from the demon himself.

  “Trisk?”
Quen exclaimed, and she waved his concern off, missing the demon’s eyes flicking up to the rafters at a faint clatter. Daniel followed the demon’s gaze, his brow rising when he spotted a tiny glow of light seeming to spill from the thick beams, dissipating before it fell more than a few inches. It was that tiny woman, and Daniel looked back down, startled to see the demon watching him, grinning wildly.

  “You need something,” the demon said as he ran a hand through the thin ribbons woven into his beard. “Seeing a human staring at me, I can guess.” He hesitated, his feet in his rope-and-wood sandals spread confidently. “I like this. So sure of your skills that you summon me in a barn. Aboveground. Where I might see something other than the ceiling of your lab.”

  Trisk took a breath to say something, and again the demon jabbed out at her circle. White-faced, she took a step back, the barrier she’d made humming with a stronger force.

  “Let me guess,” Daniel said, ignored. “If he gets out, we all die.”

  “Only if you’re lucky,” the demon said.

  “Ask him,” Quen said, and Trisk stepped forward, an odd, stiff surety in her.

  “How much for a memory charm?” she said, her mood an even mix of worry and frustration. “To cloud both the first time he saw you, and about an hour ago up to now.”

  Ignoring her, the demon blew the char from his burned knuckles to show new skin beneath. Head cocked, he looked at Daniel. “What is your name, little man?”

  “Dr. Daniel Plank,” Daniel said, peeved as he realized he’d been living in a world of magic his entire life, blind to it. Somehow, that made him angry.

  “Don’t,” Trisk warned, but it was too late, and the demon beamed a great smile.

  “She told you to be quiet,” Quen warned, coming close to enforce his demand, and Daniel stood. That is, until Quen put a hand on his shoulder and shoved him back down again.

  “No middle name, Dr. Daniel Plank?” the demon crooned, and Daniel’s gaze dropped to the tiny bells chiming softly, sewn into the hem of his open, baggy vest. “Well, since you freely give me yours, I invite you to call me Gally,” the demon said. “Though that’s not my name. Call my real name, and I’ll come kill you. Then kill everyone with you. Understand?”

  Daniel nodded vigorously and Gally laughed. “I like you, Dr. Daniel Plank,” he said, sitting down on a marvelously carved one-legged stool that materialized under him as he sat. “And just so you know, that’s not a good thing.”

  Head cocked, Gally turned to Trisk. “And what will you give me for such a curse?” he said, eyeing her from over his blue-tinted glasses. “Your soul?”

  Trisk waved Quen to silence. “A memory curse isn’t worth that much.”

  “It is if you want it bad enough.” Gally sighed dramatically. “If I don’t give it to you, Dr. Daniel Plank dies, yes? And you will have to kill him yourself. Nasty work that. Killing someone you respect. Someone you would die for.”

  Pale, Trisk took a tiny step forward. “Showing me how to work the forget curse will make me a more valuable familiar. That should be worth something.”

  “A ghost’s fart, maybe,” Gally said, seemingly disappointed she’d suggested it. “I’m not in the habit of giving away anything, but we haven’t known each other long. Still on our honeymoon, so to say.” Gally made a show of thinking it over, but Daniel knew the demon was more interested in watching Quen fidget than arriving at a price.

  “How is your plot against Trenton Lee Kalamack going?” the demon said, the tiny bells on his hem ringing. “Badly? Is that why your . . . friend is here, your plans being overheard by clever, sneaky humans? I can get your name on your research, guaranteed. You should kill Dr. Daniel Plank and skip right to the good stuff of ensuring your species remains extant.”

  “Banish him,” Quen said, clearly upset. “He’s wasting our time.”

  “Hold up,” Daniel said, trying to stand again, only to be shoved back down.

  “I’m not killing Daniel,” Trisk said, flushed. “And besides, if Daniel goes missing, Kal will know something is wrong.”

  “None of this matters if you agree to take my counsel,” Gally said, posing dramatically. “Even your elven enclave is reluctant to allow a woman to succeed where a man has failed. Deplorable, really. Our only female demon is insane, but we still respect her.”

  Enclave, Daniel thought, rolling the word around in his mind. Trisk had used it, too. They were organized. And going extinct? he mused.

  “Such a noble task you have before you,” Gally continued, the lilt of his voice making it sound like a petty goal. “Let me help. Take a roll with Trenton Lee Kalamack. He’s young. He’ll go blind to everything if you involve his genitalia. No-o-o-o-o?” Gally drawled, and she turned her back on him. “Can’t blame me for trying. Ta!”

  “Wait!” Trisk blurted, and Gally’s smile widened to make Daniel shudder as the demon confidently took an engraved box from the folds of his clothes. Opening it, he sniffed a pinch of something white, shuddering in what looked like pleasure before offering it to Quen, then Daniel. “All I want is a forget curse,” Trisk said, flushed.

  “My idea is better,” the demon said. “Faster,” he added, looking over his blue glasses at Daniel. “Fool-l-l-l-l-proof,” he drawled.

  “Forget spell only,” Trisk said, breathless.

  “It’s a curse, not a spell,” Gally said softly, and Daniel stifled a shiver at the heavy promise in the demon’s voice. “And you will be the one carrying the smut for it, not me. And that’s even providing we can come to some understanding.”

  Trisk straightened her shoulders. “Well?”

  “This is going nowhere. Banish him,” Quen demanded, and Gally stood, the stool vanishing as the bells on his hem chimed a warning.

  “She won’t banish me,” Gally said, his goat-slitted red eyes glinting in anticipation. “She’s going to give me everything I want. And it won’t be long till she comes back for more.”

  Trisk stared at him, her pulse visibly pounding at her neck. “I want a fair price, or I’ll send you away. Right now.”

  For three heartbeats, Gally seemed to weigh her need against her shaky confidence. “I give you a forget curse.” He held up a finger. “If only to keep this little triangle of lies and anguish going,” he added, and Trisk’s brow furrowed. “But in return, I want a taste of the source of your power. Your donor virus.”

  “So you can sell it to Kal?” Quen said. “No.”

  Gally laughed at Quen, and the man flushed, angry. “No, dark buck. I wouldn’t give it to him even if I had a discourse with Trenton Lee Kalamack and he asked for it. It’s needful. If I’m to ensure that her name be attached to her research, I have to know what it is.”

  “But I’m not asking you to ensure my name is attached to my research,” Trisk said. “I’m asking you to modify Daniel’s memories. I can do the rest myself.”

  This is so unfair, Daniel thought, not liking that his world was spinning out of his control and that he was going to forget everything if Trisk got her way—or fight for his life if she didn’t.

  “I still say you should simply follow my advice.” Gally leaned forward, jerking back in annoyance when his beard began to smolder. “Nevertheless, give me the price I ask, or I walk away and not only do you lose credit for your work when Kalamack nixes the patent transfer, but he will know you tried to play him and failed when your human talks.”

  “I won’t say anything,” Daniel said, ignored.

  “I don’t have it with me,” Trisk whispered.

  The demon’s lips cracked into a wide, satisfied smile. “Not an issue,” he said almost purred. “You can wear my mark until you satisfy our bargain, Felecia Eloytrisk Cambri. I have made it my goal in life to see that your name gets placed upon your great work. If it does not, you will owe me nothing.”

  “Trisk, don’t,” Quen demanded. “You’ll have to summon him again to fulfill your promise. Even the professors at school knew better than to bargain with a demon.”

&nbs
p; Her lips pressed together in annoyance, and she looked across the barn at him. “They would if they had a summoning name,” she said. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Said every demon summoner ever,” Gally mocked, his hands laced expectantly.

  Daniel glanced at the barn’s door, then at Quen behind him. He wouldn’t forget. He would remember. And then, when Trisk calmed down and Quen was gone, he’d tell her, and they could live their lives with him knowing the truth.

  “No, you won’t, Dr. Daniel Plank,” Gally said as if reading his mind, shocking Daniel to a heart-thudding silence. “So yes or no?” Gally asked Trisk. “Don’t be tiresome. You called me.”

  “I’ll wear your mark,” Trisk whispered, and Daniel blanched at the quiver of excitement that rippled the demon’s image. “You will curse Daniel into forgetting, and you will take your mark off immediately when I give you a sample of my work. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” Knuckles cracking in anticipation, Gally looked at Daniel. “Ut sementem feceris,” he intoned, his hand moving in what looked like sign language.

  Quen jumped, backing up from Daniel with an almost comical haste. Daniel would have laughed, but the two elves and the demon were all watching him with expectant expressions. I still remember.

  But then Trisk gasped, her face suddenly white. “Oh God,” she moaned, dropping to a knee.

  Daniel lurched forward, kneeling beside her and gripping her shoulder as Quen spun to the demon. “What did you do to her?” Quen demanded.

  Trisk was cold under his hand, her breath shallow as she fought something Daniel couldn’t see. “Trisk?” he whispered, and she shook her head, hiding her eyes.

  “It’s the smut,” Gally said, explaining nothing. “I wanted to be sure she could handle it before I actually did the curse.” Gally idly tugged at his vest to make the bells on it ring. “Very good, Trisk. You’ll make a fine familiar when the time comes.”

  “It’s okay,” Trisk rasped, her eyes wide in pain when she looked up. “I can do this,” she added, her attention going to Daniel’s hand on her shoulder. “It’s the payment for putting reality out of balance,” she added, confusing Daniel more. “It’s more than I expected.” Her eyes rose to Gally. “I didn’t know you could do that. Shift the smut from one to another.”