Page 28

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Y ou know, Gutierrez,” Ez says, eyeing Roma across their picnic table at Lakeside, “that spell book is centuries old. It’s a priceless artifact, a one-of-a-kind rarity, something I didn’t even know existed until yesterday. Obie will have my head on a stick if I damage it.”

“Uh-huh,” Roma says, still absorbed in jotting down notes about the spell on a pad of paper off to the side. Idly, she reaches for a fry from her to-go carton. “What’s your point?”

“Then why?—??” Ez impatiently yanks the spell book away when a gravy-coated cheese curd falls perilously close to the delicate pages. “Then why are you eating poutine while you read it?”

“Because I’m starving,” Roma fires back, wrestling the book back towards her with her non-poutine-covered hand. “We’ve been working all day, Laguerre! I need sustenance if we’re going to cast a varsity-level spell!”

“And you can have your sustenance,” Ez says emphatically, “at a socially appropriate distance from the fragile spell book.”

And, for once, they can actually have their sustenance without being interrupted by the mega-rifts. Ez texted Maggie Khan early this morning to secure the evening shift’s spellcaster for six p.m. sharp, and somehow, she wasn’t surprised when a Public Safety demon showed up within a few minutes of a Sanctum hunter.

After they left, Roma said in a low voice that she told one of the Council members that their Deep-checking spell was planned for today, so they probably just knew she would need the backup. She didn’t look like she entirely believed the words, though.

Now, Roma rolls her eyes at Ez’s fretting, but she moves her poutine marginally farther away from the spell book. “How much longer until sunset?”

The sun is already starting to drift towards the horizon, but Ez checks her phone for the exact time. “About eighteen minutes. Will you be ready by then?”

“I mean, I have the incantation memorized,” Roma says, scribbling another quick note on her pad. “I’m just triple-checking to see if there are any other quirks I should know in advance.”

“You’re comfortable with the Marseilles base, right? And you saw the syllable change on line nineteen?”

“Check and check,” Roma says, and her eyes flicker up to Ez’s. “How about our magic stances? The spell doesn’t specify a preference, but since the book was written pre-WMSA, there might’ve been an obvious option at that point in history that we’re missing.”

“I asked Obie about that, actually,” Ez says, faintly impressed that Roma thought to consider the historical context of the spell. “Similar spells recommend a seated stance, so we’re as close to the ground as possible?—allegedly, it helps to connect to the Deep itself.”

Roma nods slowly. “A bit unorthodox, but we can make it work.” Decisively, she closes the spell book and pushes it back towards Ez; gratefully, Ez drops it into a pocket dimension for safekeeping. “I think I’m ready. Want to check my notes?”

Strangely touched by the offer, Ez grabs Roma’s notepad and skims over the short, neat lines of handwriting. Given what she’s seen of Roma’s spellcasting, she doesn’t think she’ll find any glaring errors or omissions in Roma’s analysis, but, well??—

Objectively speaking, Ez is a better spellcaster than Roma. It’s through no fault or lack of skill on Roma’s part; she simply hasn’t had the centuries Ez has had to hone her craft. It makes sense for Roma to get feedback before performing a varsity-level spell.

Knowing their limits is the mark of a good spellcaster. “Looks solid to me,” Ez says eventually, and she passes the notepad back to Roma before snapping open a rift. “You ready?”

Roma lets out a slow breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, and she crumples up her empty poutine carton and tosses it in the nearest trash can before following Ez through the rift.

They emerge on the opposite side of the lake, hidden behind the row of trees that signals the shift from the shoreline to Redwater’s western forest. It’s an area Ez is familiar with?—she’s come here plenty of times to study, relax, and just enjoy the fresh air?—but she can tell that Roma has never noticed this little clearing.

So Roma looks around, fascination sweeping over her face, and Ez looks at Roma. The early days of June are starting to unleash summertime warmth in all its glory, the smell of blossoming flowers livening up the air, and the streaks of fading sunlight filtering through the tree branches make Roma look like she stepped straight off an artist’s canvas.

And, for almost the first time, they’re alone in a secluded location, free from prying eyes. But instead of feeling anxious or wary about that, Ez just feels a strange sense of contentedness. Peace, even. There’s no way she should feel this calm and this comfortable with no one but a hunter by her side, but somehow, she feels safer than ever.

Fleetingly, she wonders if this is how Cass feels with JJ. Just as quickly, though, she shoves the thought down. “Let’s do this,” she says briskly, leading the way to a patch of grass and plopping down cross-legged. “Maybe two or three dry runs, and then we’ll cast the spell for real?”

“Slowly for our first time,” Roma says, easing herself onto the ground in front of Ez. “I don’t want to rush and screw it up.”

“We won’t,” Ez says firmly, and she rolls her shoulders back, touching her fingertips to the ground. Roma mirrors the position, closing her eyes. “On three. One, two, three?—from the depths to the sky…”

“From the depths to the sky…”

Roma’s voice blends easily with Ez’s, the syllables combining together in a quiet harmony. Even though they’ve never attempted this particular spell before, the words still sound just as intricate and right as they always do, somehow made more powerful by the fact that they’re using the same incantation.

They’re not just working towards a shared goal this time, each of them attacking the mega-rifts from a separate angle. No, they’re working towards a shared spell. The difference might be subtle, but it lights up all of Ez’s nerves at once, making her skin feel electrified and her bones feel as light as air.

And dual spellcasting is rare. Ez herself almost never dabbled in it before recently. Doubling the number of spellcasters means doubling the amount of risk, because if one of them messes up an aspect of the casting, the adverse effects can be shared?—and magnified?—between both of them.

But, with a skilled and trusted partner, team-tag spellcasting can become more than the sum of its parts. It allows the strengths of both practitioners to shine through and amplify each other, letting them access spells they couldn’t otherwise cast and share power that would traditionally be impossible to attain.

Dual spellcasting might be rare, but with Roma, Ez can see the appeal of it.

They only end their practice run a few beats out of sync, Roma stumbling the slightest bit on the last line. Not a huge deal for a typical incantation, but for a spell involving the Deep, they need to be perfect. “Again?” Ez prompts softly.

“I think so,” Roma agrees quietly. “One, two, three?—from the depths to the sky…”

“From the depths to the sky…”

This time, they end the spell in perfect unison, their voices rising and falling and fading out together. Roma checks the position of the sun before meeting Ez’s eyes. “One more practice round,” she says, “and then for real.”

Ez’s throat feels dry. “Sounds good. One, two, three?—from the depths…”

“… to the sky…”

Another perfect match. Ez swallows hard past the fluttery sensation in her belly. Even though she’s met countless spellcasters, both demon and human, over her almost two hundred fifty years, she’s never found anyone who took the gift of magic quite as seriously as she did, who nurtured it and treasured it and polished it until it shone like a jewel.

Not until Roma Gutierrez, at least. Ez takes a deep breath. “This time for real?” she whispers.

Roma’s voice is barely a breath. “Okay. Count us off?”

“One… two… three,” Ez murmurs, and she lets power flow through her body, swirling past her fingertips and down into the earth below them. “From the depths to the sky…”

Roma’s voice merges with Ez’s just as easily as ever, their timing and cadence falling smoothly into line. Ez’s magic swells and pulses through her veins as they work through the incantation, reaching a crescendo just before the final words. A split second after she pushes the spell down into the Deep, a jolt of feedback rattles up her arms, shocking her system and forcing her eyes open wide.

The Deep is stirring. And, from what Ez can tell, it doesn’t like being kept awake. Her eyes snap to Roma, who looks just as stunned as Ez feels. “That was it?” Roma whispers, a thread of awe twining through her voice. “That was the Deep?”

Ez’s eyebrows furrow. “You’ve never felt it before?”

Roma shakes her head. “The Sanctum always warned us not to meddle with it. Told us to draw our magic from anywhere except the ground beneath our feet. Hunters tend to have a… high mortality rate when accessing the Deep.”

Ez leans forward, intrigued. “I’ve tapped into the Deep a handful of times before. After a few centuries, you learn how to be polite to the old magic, and it generally returns the favor. What does…?” She hesitates, considering her question. “What does it feel like to you?”

For a long moment, Roma’s eyes search Ez’s.

And then she says, “Beautiful. It feels beautiful.”

Ez’s heart shivers. “It is,” she agrees softly. “But it shouldn’t feel like it’s moving. It normally feels quiet, like your entire soul could wash over it without disturbing it. Right now, though, it feels active.”

“Like it’s causing the epidemic, you mean.”

It’s not a question, but Ez nods anyway. “Exactly. It feels like the Deep keeps opening the mega-rifts because it’s specifically signaling for an outside force to cast the counterspell. That’s why it’s caught in this infinite loop?—it can only restabilize itself if someone activates the exact reversal using the Deep’s magic.” She winces. “And the power threshold to access that magic feels a lot higher than usual, too. Honestly, I don’t even think Obie and I could hit that, and he has power to spare. That means we’ll definitely need the synergy of demon and human magic together to make it work.”

Roma’s lips twist down in the corners. “So our question now is how to manage all that.”

“Well, hypothetically, we do know how to manage it,” Ez says. “All we have to do is figure out the original rift-opening spell, build a point-by-point counterspell, and risk life and limb using the Deep’s magic to activate it.”

Roma snorts. “Right. That’s ‘all’ we have to do.”

“The path forward is simple,” Ez says. “That doesn’t mean it’s easy, though.”

“But we can do it,” Roma says, lifting her chin to meet Ez’s eyes. “You and me. We can pull it off, right?”

And somehow??—

Somehow, Ez can’t think of anyone she would rather do this with. “I’d say we have a damn good chance,” she says, and she gives Roma a small smile. “I’ll check the demons’ spell books. You’ll check the hunters’?”

Roma smiles tentatively back. “Deal,” she says, and the two of them fall into companionable silence as the sun finally slips below the horizon.