Page 74 of Outlaw Witch

But by the time the new moon comes around, we’re ready.

Or at least, as ready as youcanbe when there’s a lot on the line, but you only have half a week to prepare.

We’ve all been running ourselves ragged to get to this point. Barely sleeping more than a handful of hours, eating in quick snatches of whatever takeout one of us has thought to order.

It’s been drizzling on and off all day, but thankfully Zeph is holding the rest of the rain off while I draw the circle of runes on the concrete of the rooftop. I didn’t even know that The Spirehada rooftop, but it was decided that this was the best place for us to hold the ritual. It’s high up, overlooking the whole of Arcanum and its city lights. There’s also no chance of anyone stumbling in, disturbing us while we’re mid-ritual.

Since we’re out in the open, the air is thick with shadows. We’re exposed to the invisible light of the new moon, as specified.

One issue with the exposure is the ground is damp from the earlier rain, so I’m struggling to stop the runes I’m drawing on the concrete ground from looking like a blurry mess. I’m on my third attempt, after spending hours practicing drawing them repeatedly in a notebook. But it seems like the conditions tonight are not on our side.

I’m alone up here, thankfully. The others are all downstairs and should be coming up shortly. So I take the opportunity to summon a teeny tiny fireball and use it to help me dry the concrete. At least that way that the chalks I’m using will have a better chance of sticking.

I probably should have gotten Ember’s help with this. I’m no artist and although I’ve spent hours poring over the images, ready to copy them, there’s a vague sense of fear that I might fuck this up and wind up summoning an even worse creature.

Taking a step back, I survey my work. As soon as I remove myself from their circle, the runes hum with power, which I take as a good sign. My hands are shaking slightly as I grab onto the chalice of blood red liquid Luna delivered earlier on today. She was looking as frazzled as I’ve ever seen her. Her hair was an unwashed mess, piled up on top of her head and I’m sure the clothes she was wearing were the same ones as when I last saw her days ago. Clearly, she’s been working around the clock, trying to get all the ingredients for the potion and to make it in time.

The liquid has a faint copper and incense scent to it which is turning my stomach every time I catch a whiff of it. I hop into the middle of the circle of runes and place the chalice in the center for when Fabian gets here.

Not long now.

I wipe my shaky hands on the legs of my pants and drag in a long breath. I don’t know how sentient the curse inside him is, but we didn’t want to risk it becoming aware of what we’re doing before the ritual begins.

At midnight, we’ll begin.

Ten more minutes.

I pace around, checking and double checking the placement of the runes and whether their edges are crisp enough. There’s a ball of nerves in my gut that made eating earlier an impossibility, and I’m in desperate need of a drink after this. My brain is fried and I know I’m not the only one. We’ve all been dancing around each other when we meet up for coffee at six am every morning. Acting like this is normal, and everything is fine. Ignoring the fact that none of us can sleep beyond dawn because we’re too afraid of time slipping through our fingers. Of losing this chance to help Fabian.

The door behind me clangs open and shut and I spin around to greet the three mages with a tight smile.

This is it.

“We ready?” I rasp before swallowing a few times to clear my dry throat.

“As we’ll ever be,” Fabian mutters.

He’s actually looking better than he has over the past week. I think Luna’s sleep potion is still working, and he told me he’s gotten more sleep in the past week than in the last three months.

He doesn’t exactly lookwell.Particularly not tonight, where nerves are making his pallor pale and faintly sheened in sweat. But he no longer looks like the world could knock his big body down with a feather and he wouldn’t be able to get up again.

“You still good with holding back the rain?” I ask Zeph, who gives me a curt nod, his hands fisted at his sides.

Roscoe bounds over to me and grabs me by the shoulders until I’m staring up at him, open-mouthed. He seems excited more than anything, clearly not getting the memo while the rest of us are so tense you could snap us in half.

“Good luck, sweetheart. I know you can do this,” he says before pulling me into a quick kiss. My lips press against his warm ones before I know what’s happening. He moans slightly, pressing his hard body against my front and cupping my ass before pulling away with a broad grin.

It’s a ninja kiss, there and gone before I know it. I just wish I knew what the hell was going on before it ended. Instead, I was less an active participant and more a gaping pair of lips.

I’m still staring at him as he spins away toward Fabian, who fends him off pre-emptively with a chuckle.

“I’ll let you save your good luck kisses, man. Thanks though.”

Zeph then grabs Roscoe by the scruff of his neck and pulls him to one side. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls. “You’d better behave, or I’ll throw you off this roof myself.”

“I’ll be good. Just couldn’t waste the perfect opportunity to get my first taste of perfection.” Roscoe winks at me and I feel myself blushing.

I brush it off, though. Pushing down my temporary discombobulation. This is not the time for distraction. I need all my focus for the next part.

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