My urge to sneeze vanished, and I jerked in surprise when the crucible was engulfed in flames. There was a whoosh, accompanied by a twang through me. The cheerful red-and-orange flames flashed to a weird gold and black that matched my damaged aura—and went out.
Wide-eyed, I pulled my gaze from the soot-blackened crucible to Jenks, hovering over the sink. There wasn’t anything in the bowl but a smear of ash stinking of burnt vegetation.
“Was that what was supposed to happen?” he asked.
Like I know? “Uh, yeah,” I said, pretending to look at the text. “See, I’m not sneezing.”
I took a careful breath through my nose, then another, more relaxed one. My shoulders eased, and I let myself smile. I loved it when I learned something new.
“Good,” Jenks grumbled, taking to the air to hover before the bubble, still up and running. “’Cause I’m not getting rid of my cat.”
With a small thought, I broke my connection with the ley line. The circle vanished, and Jenks flew in to land next to the crucible, his tiny features wrinkled in distaste. Content, I closed the textbook and started to clean up my mess before Ivy got home. “I told you I wasn’t…” My words cut off as my nose started to tickle. “I’m not…” I started again, feeling my eyes widen. Jenks stared at me, horror in his expression.
Eyes watering, I waved helplessly. “Achoo!” I exclaimed, hunching over, my hair falling to hide my face. It was followed by another, then another. Ah, crap, I’d made things worse.
“The Turn take it,” I gasped between sneezes. “I know I did it right!”
“Ivy’s got some pills,” Jenks said. I could hear his wings, but I was too busy trying to catch my breath to look at him. He sounded worried. I knew I was. “In her bathroom,” he added. “Maybe they’ll help.”
I bobbed my head, then sneezed again. Ivy had caught a cold last spring when we’d come back from Michigan. She had moped around the church for three days, coughing and blowing her nose—snarling at me every time I suggested making her a charm. She had taken pills with her orange juice every afternoon.
My breath came in little pants, and my nose tickled. Crap. Lurching to the hallway, I sneezed again. “I’m not allergic to cats,” I said while I groped to turn the light on. My reflection looked terrible, my hair all over the place and my nose running. I opened the cupboard, uncomfortable rummaging in her things.
“This one!” Jenks said, tugging at a thin amber vial.
I sneezed three more times while I fumbled to get the stupid thing open, trying to read that I was to take two pills every four hours. Why in hell had I tried to use ley line magic? I should have known better than to self-administer a medicinal charm. The aides in Emergency were going to laugh their asses off if I had to go in for a counterspell.
I stared at Jenks. My eyes widened; another sneeze was coming, and it felt like a big one. Not using water, I took two pills, looking at the ceiling and trying to swallow them.
“Water, Rache!” Jenks said, hovering over the tap. “You gotta take them with water!”
Waving him out of my way, I swallowed them down dry, grimacing. And, like magic, the urge to sneeze vanished.
Not believing it, I took a breath, then another. Jenks was having a fit over the wax cups, so I filled one, dutifully swallowing the lukewarm water to feel the pills slide down. “Damn!” I swore in admiration. “Those are great. Caught it midsneeze.” I set the cup down to pick up the vial, turning it over to read the label. “How much are these anyway?”
Jenks’s wings clattered, he and his reflection slowly falling. “They don’t work that fast.”
I glanced at him. “Really?”
He looked worried, his feet gently touching the counter and his wings stilled. He took a breath to say something, but a soft pop jerked both our heads up. My pulse went into overdrive, and I felt someone tap the line out back. It startled me, and, gasping, I fell into Ivy’s black porcelain toilet, slipping. I went down with a little shriek, and my butt met the tile. “Ow,” I said, holding my elbow where it hit something.
“Witch!” a resonant voice echoed, and I tossed my hair aside, taking in the robed figure in the threshold. “Why, by Cormel’s gonads, does my coffee taste like dandelions!”
Ah, crap, it was Minias.
TWELVE
“Get out, Jenks!” I shrieked, scrambling up.
Minias swooped into Ivy’s bathroom, his smooth face creased in irritation. Panicking, I pressed into a fluffy black towel hanging between the commode and the tub. “Don’t touch me!” I shouted, then flung the contents of Ivy’s pill vial at him.