Page 135 of Architecti
I place the mirror in the circle.Slit my palm and drop several droplets of blood on the mirror.
Nothing happens.
Weird.
Is it because I don’t want the demon the way I did the last time?The desperation to save Aurelia was acute, now I’m just pissed.
My fingers find the brand on my wrist and rub as I continue to summon Ignatius.
A tingle scratches my fingertips.
The cemetery tilts.Dark clouds billow and throb in the sky, shadows crawl across the graveyard like the skitter of spiders.
They swirl around me, faster and faster as if I’m caught in a tornado.
My body is yanked backwards, my arms fling out to support me, but I never hit the ground.
I fall down.
Down.
Down.
When I do hit the ground, it is not in the cemetery.
I am in an office, blinking up at a ceiling.There are walls lined with shelves of books and jars and specimens and interesting tools and trinkets.My eyes land on a shelf of blades, my fingers twitching to hold them, use them.
I stand up to find a large mahogany desk, behind it a wall of achievements and the occasional framed piece of artwork from a child.
Candles flicker in sconces.
The door flings open, making me flinch.Ignatius strides in and glowers at me.
“I’m busy.Speak fast,” he says.
“I want my soul back.”
That stops him mid-stride.I stare at him.
He stares back.When I continue the staring, he makes an odd guffaw sound.“Wait, you’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
This time, he laughs.A full-bodied, head thrown back howl made of malice and cruelty.
“And what?You think I’d just give it to you?”
“Aren’t all deals negotiable?”
“Before they’re signed, sure.”
“You broke your end of the deal,” I hiss.
That makes his eyes narrow into venomous slits.He strides to his desk chair and sits.
“This should be good.Please, Mercedes, explain how I have cheated you.”
“Aurelia…”
