The Bane of Light

Talking to the Dead

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I pulled out the box of salt from my black duffle, ripping open the lid and shaking the contents inside. I trailed a thick line around the metal trolley, circling it to make an oval around it. Once the salt line was carefully established, I sprinkled dirt and bone shards that I had gathered in the cemetery earlier today. Ghosts clung on to life, and were repelled by matter that reminded them of death. It was vital that we provided bone dust and cemetery dirt to keep them captured and weak, feeble enough to remain contained within the salt circle. If we didn't take these precautions, they could get loose and run rampant, causing what mortals regarded as "hauntings".

Once the protective measures were established, I looked up at Paris to gouge his reaction. He was ashen and chalky, but was otherwise grounded. The last thing we needed was for him to panic and let loose Aline's spirit, which was all the more likely because this was a one-person seance. Which had never been done before. Successfully at least, because all the paranormal possessions in the mortal realm begged to differ

"Don't step withins the line. No matter what, do not step in" I demanded to him, tracking my eyes around the salt line, checking to see if it was broken anywhere.

"What if something goes wrong? How will I help?" He asked me, concern lilting in his voice. His need to get involved irked me beyond measure. Everything this boy did seemed to irk me beyond measure.

"You will help, by sitting still till I control the situation" I snapped at him. Paris flinched at my words, deflating a little at my tone. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose impatiently.

"Look" I began, "I understand that you have a need to be on the front lines, fighting. That you're not the type to sit on the sidelines and miss out on the action. But remember the last time you tried to help me. Look how it ended up. We're in this mess because you tried to help me. Just let me do this. I'm the one in Necromancy courses, remember?" I tried to reassure him. He gave me a nod, his lips pressed into a worried purse. Mentioning that he was responsible for all this definitely did the trick.

I gave him a curt nod back, before turning around. My hands hovered over Alines body as I opened my shadow pocket, gently lifting out a hare from it. Or at least what resembled a hare. A calka demon joustled in my hands as I pulled it out by the scruff. The last thing I needed was to get bitten by it and have it take my form. That was their speciality; biting a creature and taking their form with the DNA from the bite

The calka demon's last vicitm had been a large hare—one that I had fed it in captivity—with beady red eyes and a body of patchy brown fur. I had originally summoned it in the form of an aboriginal night species, one that was beyond even my expertise, and I had to change it into a more manageable size. A bunny was perfect for handling, small and easily contained. It looked nothing like a bunny, of course, instead a rabid, flea infested one, but nobody had time for the tedious details.

"What is that?!" Paris whispered to me. The calka snapped in his direction, and I had to hold the thing away from him. I observed his hands as his golden ring began glowing, upon the close proximity to the demon.

"Calka demon that has taken the form of a hare. I knew you would throw a fit if I brought in an actual hare" I stated. Paris nodded, as if taking the life of a demon was any more justified than an animals. We were all creatures scrapping to survive, yet some of us were condemned for of the measures we had to go to for it.

"Hold it" I passed the creature to Paris. He looked between my outstretched hand, the jostling demon, and me incrededuously.

"Oh for the love of-" I snapped at him, weaving my shadows to bind the hare. It continued trying to bite me, so I wrapped a muzzle around it's mouth. I jerked the thing towards Paris again, who reluctantly took it from me, holding it away from himself like he would a handbag.