He folded his arms and shook his head. She sighed.
Okay. Have it your way. She crushed asafetida between her fingers and sprinkled it over the floor around him. Hyram Dunlop, I command you to enter this circle to be marked and sent to rest. I command you to leave this plane of existence.
She jumped when the growl echoed through the room and the skull leapt into the air. The rest of the dog flowed into existence behind it, each bone sharp and clean in the wavering candlelight.
Shit! Shit, shit. She was still the only one in the circle.
Worse, they both smelled of asafetida. She hadnt rinsed her hands yet. The dogmagically created to sense the herbwouldnt know the difference between them.
Chess screamed as the skeletal dog lunged at her, skin and fur growing over its bones. She fell intofell throughHyram Dunlop. The cold was worse this time, probably because she wasnt ready for it, or maybe because she was terrified by the sight of those sharp, shiny canine teeth snapping the air only inches from her arm. If they reached her
The dogs mouth closed around her left calf, pulling. Eyes appeared in the formerly hollow sockets, glowing red, brighter as it firmed its grip and tugged.
Behind the dog the air rippled. Shadowy images superimposed themselves over the tasteful taupe walls of the Sanford house, silhouettes gray and black against lit torches.
Something inside Chess started to give. The dogthe psychopompwas doing its job, tugging its lost soul out of the Sanford house and into the city of the dead.
But her soul wasnt lostat least, not in the way required.
Hyrams eyes widened as she reached for him again, her hand passing through his chest.
Hyram Dunlop, I command you
The words ended in a strangled gurgle. It hurt, fuck, it really fucking hurt. It was peeling, as if someone was tearing away layers of her skin one by one, exposing every tender, raw nerve she possessed, and she possessed so many of them.
Her vision blurred. She could let go, if she wanted to. She could float awaythe dog would be gentle once it knew it had herand vanish, no more problems, no more pain, no more
Only the boredom of the city, with nothing to take the edge off. And the knowledge that shed died a stupid death and let this miserable jerk of a spirit beat her. No. No way.
She moved her hand, reaching again for Hyram. This time her fingers connected with something solid, something that felt warm and alive. Hyram. He wasnt alive. She was dying.
But in death she could grab hold of him and drag him into the broken circle. In death she could use the strength of her will to bring the Ectoplasmarker down on Hyrams suddenly solid flesh. In death she could mark him with his passport, the symbol to identify him to the psychopomp, and physically hold him in place.
Desperately she scrawled the figure on his arm, while her soul stretched between Hyram and the dog like a taut clothesline. She didnt dare look away to see what her physical body was doing.
She managed the last line as her vision went entirely black. Pain shot through her as she fell to the floor with a house-rattling thud, but it was physical pain this time, bone pain, not the agony of having her living soul ripped from her body as it had been moments before.
She opened her eyes just in time to see Hyram Dunlop disappear through the rippling patch of air.
Her fingers scrabbled at the clasp on her heavy silver pillbox, lifting the lid. She grabbed two of the large white pills inside and gobbled them up, biting down so the bitterness flooded her taste buds and made her nose wrinkle. It tasted awful. It tasted wonderful. The sweetest things were bitter on the outside, Bump had told her once, and oh, how right hed been.
Her fingers closed around her water bottle and she twisted off the cap and took a gulp, swishing it around in her mouth so the crushed pills could enter her bloodstream under her tongue, so they could start dissolving before they slid down into her stomach and blossomed from there.
Her eyes closed. The relief wasnt everything it would be in twenty minutes, in half an hour as the Cepts were digested fully. But it was something. The shaking eased enough for her to control her hands again.
Cleaning up was the worst part of Banishings. Or rather, it was usually. This time the worst part had been feeling her soul pull from her flesh like a particularly sticky Band-Aid.
Carefully she put her altar pieces back in her bag, wrapping the dog skull in hemp paper before setting it on top of everything else. Shed have to buy a new one. This dog had tasted her. She couldnt use it again.
Her Cepts started to kick in as she swept. Her stomach lifted, that odd, delicious feeling of excitementof anticipationmaking her smile without really realizing it. Things werent so terrible, after all. She was alive. Alive, and just high enough to feel good about it.
The Sanfords arrived home just as she knelt outside their front door with a hammer and an iron nail.
Welcome home, she said, punctuating her words with sharp taps of the hammer. You shouldnt have any more problems.