Chapter Ten

Calder stepped outside, scanning the field and distant woods in all directions, and realized with an awful feeling of dread that Angel had vanished. That was it. He'd helped Calder stop he and his friends from becoming murderers and now he was on his own. Calder was left standing all alone in a dark field in the middle of the night with a furious, scared, adrenaline-filled teenager in the castle somewhere behind him, waiting for the opportunity to pound Calder to a bloody pulp (not to mention who-knew-how-many vampires and demons lurking in the darkness of the woods, waiting for easy prey like him), and Calder's only defense was a stick poking out of his back pocket.

Calder took a few uncertain steps along the side of the castle-the city was closest on the back side-but found himself yanked backwards, choking against his collar.

"You're in big trouble, Pan, you know that?" Zeus spun Calder around and punched him hard in the stomach. Calder gasped at the pain, doubling over and wheezing. Zeus grabbed the back of Calder's shirt at the neck again, and yanked up. Calder struggled to get air into his lungs as his own shirt choked him.

"No one ever betrays me and gets away with it."

Still coughing, Calder made a wild swing at Zeus, but missed. Calder could almost feel the heat from Zeus's anger.

"No one tries to punch me and gets away with it, either." He raised his fist, this time aiming for Calder's nose. Before Calder could react, an arm swung past his ear and hit Zeus directly in the jaw. He went flying into the side of the building; and luckily for Calder, he had let go of his shirt.

"I'm willing to test that," Angel said, advancing on the stunned kid. Angel growled a terrifying animal growl that sent chills down Calder's spine. Calder wondered if Angel was in full vampire form—something that Calder realized he had never seen before. Angel thrust the kid roughly against the wall, their faces inches from each other.

"Calder is my friend." Angel said slowly. "Don't come near him ever again. He was never in your gang. In fact, you don't even know who he is. Got it?" The kid whimpered and nodded. "I don't need your address to find you. I get a hint from Calder that you're so much as irritating him, and we're going to have another nice little chat. I may even bring your knife back." Angel let go and turned around. His face was human.

"Coming?" he asked Calder, and led the way across the field toward the shortcut through the woods.

Their walk was mostly silent. Calder's thoughts raced in all different directions and he wrestled to get control of some of them, trying to make the events of the night sink in. Calder had clearly heard everything that happened before he came into the room with Angel and Zeus. A part of him wished he hadn't.

Though Calder knew Angel was strong and intimidating, Calder had never seen or heard Angel act remotely vampire-like, and thus hadn't realized just how strong and intimidating—no, scary—Angel could really be. He had tried to mention it out loud once—for reasons he didn't know; perhaps he'd hoped that speaking could clarify some things—by commenting, "you really hit him hard…"

Angel's casual reply of, "not really," sent Calder's thoughts whirring again. He didn't speak the rest of the walk to the red line stop at the Institute of Technology, and nursed his sore abdomen as a distraction.

Angel himself didn't seem inclined to speak, either, though not because of confusing thoughts or high-strung emotions. His walk was pleasant—almost…bouncy.

It was still dark, though it was almost time for the extra-early-risers of the city to wake up when they reached the stop. Angel asked Calder if he wanted him to go with him all the way to the west side, and Calder shook his head. Public transit wasn't nearly as scary as everything else that had just happened. Angel told him to get some sleep and they would do the counterspell to the binding magic that evening—there was something Angel needed to get first. Calder nodded and sat down on the bench to wait for the next tram as Angel started to walk away, but as he sat, he was painfully reminded of something.

"Angel."

Angel turned. Pulling the stake out of his back pocket, Calder stood up and held it out to Angel, who glanced at it.

"Keep it," he said. "I have plenty." And Angel turned and walked off down the street.

Calder was immeasurably glad it was Saturday. He slept in well past lunch and bumbled about the rest of the afternoon in a daze. The previous night's events were beginning to settle in, but that by no means meant he wasn't still confused and, yes, scared, too.

Calder admitted it: Angel had scared him.

While on the one hand, having Angel protect, defend, and help him was no end of badass (Zeus would be afraid of Calder now—Zeus, who wasn't afraid of anything, was now afraid of Calder), the horrible thought that weighed on his mind was that it was just a one-time thing. Angel had called Calder a friend when he rescued Calder from the pummeling outside the castle, but Calder wasn't sure Angel had meant it. Calder had given him no reason to call him a friend in recent months, so why should he think they were? It was clear to Calder that Angel had fun last night (which also scared him), and if he had gone so far as to threaten torture, why would a little lie about friendship perturb Angel? The upcoming spell was the last bit of friendly—and by friendly, Calder meant not hostile—contact Angel had promised Calder. What if Angel turned on him next?

Calder's thoughts ran along this vein, as well as many others—all involving Calder trying to convert the information about the Angel he once knew to the Angel he saw last night—until just after the sun set, when Calder grabbed his jacket and left, as usual not bothering to announce where he was going.

Calder knocked on Angel's door, comparing the terror he had felt last time he knocked to the apprehension he felt this time. The door swung open a moment later and Calder stepped inside.

"You ready?" Angel asked.

Calder nodded.

"Good."

Calder tried not to let his emotions show. "Do you have everything he said you needed?"

"They used pretty standard items." Angel closed the door behind Calder. "Apatite is used in a lot of spells and it's really hard to get anything but soy candles anymore. To tell you the truth I was more worried about the concero. That could have complicated things." Angel went to sit on the couch in front of the apothecary table as he spoke.

"But…the thing you said you had to get first…"

Angel looked toward the kitchen. Calder looked too, and his heart caught in his throat. William was standing there.

"What…?" Calder couldn't finish the question. He wasn't sure how he felt about having William witness this. He'd wanted William to stay separate from this part of his life for a reason.

"I'm helping." William said.

"We could do it without him," Angel said, and Calder turned to him, "but it wouldn't work as well."

"Why?"

Angel was now pulling things out of various drawers in the apothecary table.

"We're bringing you out of the grasp of one circle back into the, albeit looser, grasp of a bigger one—the world. The stronger the bond between the person doing the pulling and you, the easier it will be, and the more likely it is to work." Angel had finished finding the objects he needed and was now arranging them on the table.

"It might not work?"

"Sometimes when a person is too involved in a particular group they become inseparable from it. But you haven't been with this group long and it makes all the difference that you want the connection severed. We shouldn't have a problem." Angel finished arranging the objects. Two thick, dark-green candles stood about two feet from each other, with a clear, sharp-looking quartz-like stone that stood upright in the center. The pocket knife Angel had taken from Zeus lay parallel to the line the three objects made, with the sharp edge towards the stone. Angel addressed Calder,

"There's a book on the end of that half-bookcase, second shelf from the bottom. It's thick and has a dark blue cover."

"What's it called?" Calder asked as he went to find the book.

"Rosenberg's Compilation of Counter-Curses for the Cursed. But don't bother looking for it. The title wore off years ago." Angel shifted his attention to William, "You sit here." Angel slid down the couch one space for William to take his place.

Calder found the volume and pulled it off the shelf. He gently opened the front cover of the book as he walked back.

"Hey," he said, "Someone wrote in it." He squinted at the letters, but it was in cursive and he couldn't decipher it.

"A friend gave it to me." Angel said, and took the book from Calder. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the footstool on the other side of the apothecary table. Calder sat down opposite William and Angel, who thumbed through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

Angel turned the book around and held it closer to Calder. "Normally William would be the one to say the bigger parts, but it'll be easier if I do it and act as a conduit for you. The spell is sensitive, and pronunciation is important. He'll say each first line, I'll finish the section, then you say your part, here, here, and here." He pointed out the spots on the page. "Got it?"

"Yeah, but I said something different last time."

"Yes. You were proclaiming your membership of the circle; now you're renouncing it. Let's practice a few times before starting." Angel walked Calder through the pronunciation of the phrases until he had it right before turning to William.

"You have your part?"

William pulled out his Palm from his pocket and placed it on the table, drawing the projection up and then shrinking it to about the size of Calder's book (Angel made an incredulous noise in his throat but quickly refocused his attention). Calder could see a few Latin phrases on the screen. William demonstrated that he could pronounce them for Angel, who nodded and turned back to Calder.

"Make sure that symbol on your arm is uncovered at all times."

Calder hesitated, but pulled his jacket off so that, with his short sleeves, the symbol was in complete view. Calder shifted uncomfortably as he felt Williams eyes stare at the symbol.

Angel continued, "Like I said, this is going to hurt. Probably more than the original spell. Don't say anything except these phrases after we start. Questions, either of you?" The boys shook their heads. "Alright. Join hands. You can rest your arms on the table."

William immediately stretched his arms out on either side of the crystal, and Calder hesitantly took his hands. It felt strange. He looked up into William's eyes. William offered a small, encouraging smile. Calder took a calming breath and focused back on their hands.

Angel had dimmed the lights until they were nearly out; sending them into a darkness that Calder's eyes weren't used to. Angel took out a lighter and lit the candles. Calder glanced at the book beside him. He could still read the phrases he would have to recite, but just barely. His eyes would have to adjust a bit more.

Angel leaned over and grasped William's and Calder's hands: the conduit. He closed his eyes for a moment in preparation before starting. When Angel opened his eyes he looked at William, and nodded.

Nothing happened at first when William spoke. It was eerie how silent the room, and even the outside world, had become in the darkness; like everything in the room wanted to listen to what William and then Angel were saying. The air began to stir, though the darkness and the silence seemed as present as ever—unaffected by the movement of the air. The flames began to flicker and Calder wondered what would happen if they went out.

It was Calder's turn. He spoke as fluidly as possible, though he had no idea what he was saying. It must have worked because at his last word, the knife that had been lying peacefully on the table sprang up, startling both he and William, and balanced perfectly on its point. William spoke the next line, and the knife remained perfectly still, though the stirring of the air could now definitely be called a "breeze."

Angel's voice during his parts had been gentle at first, but it grew louder and more forceful as he progressed. Calder wished he knew what he was saying. What words were making this happen? William's hands tightened in his ever so slightly, and Angel's grasp was steady and strong (and cold). He could feel some sort of electricity flowing through their hands, like when Calder and his friends-ex-friends-had cast the original spell.

The time came again for Calder to speak. This time, at the utterance of his last word, the knife rose in the air and hovered, facing Calder as if ready to strike. William tightened his grip in Calder's hands as he finished his part, and both of them glanced nervously at Angel. Angel seemed to have expected the knife to do what it was doing, if the calmly resolute expression was any indication. Calder relaxed again, though only slightly. Angel had said it would hurt. It wasn't going to stab him, was it?

The wind picked up.

Calder dreaded his next, his final, line. What was he unknowingly telling the knife to do to him? William's hands tightened again. Keeping a wary eye on the knife, Calder gave it its last cue. He barely heard Angel and William's voices as they each spoke again—he was too busy watching the knife float toward him, then down. To his tattoo. And suddenly, Calder realized what it must do. It was going to cut the symbol out.

It was just Angel's voice now, loud, clear, and strong. The cool tip of the knife touched Calder's skin a moment before puncturing. Calder flinched and he felt William flinch as well. It couldn't have been fun to see, but it felt worse. As though through butter, the knife sliced through Calder's skin, tracing the mark. The wind was a definite force now, whipping around the three of them, and though the candles flickered wildly they did not go out.

Calder watched the knife, desperately wanting it to finish and be over with, and biting his lip, trying his best not to make any noise. Angel had said not to say anything. What if he accidentally messed up the spell with a grunt of pain?

It was almost done tracing. Calder barely noticed William's hands clenched in his own. Angel alone remained steady and unperturbed by everything that was happening as he continued to chant, repeating the last section over and over until the knife was finished.

The knife had made a complete circuit around the edge of the symbol, but it wasn't done. Lifting out of his skin, the blade turned ninety degrees and lowered once again at an angle. It pushed itself into Calder's arm and Calder drew a quick intake of breath. It was going to pry the symbol out.

Calder had been trying so hard not to whimper in pain, so it surprised him when he heard it. He looked up at William. His friend's face was screwed up as he leaned protectively over his own right arm—where Calder was hurting. Realization dawned on Calder with horror. William was feeling it, too. William's arm was bare and Calder could make out no cuts or blood, but William's pain was not of the squeamish kind. It was real. Calder looked up at Angel. Even his brow was slightly more furrowed than usual, but it might have been in concentration as he continued the piercing chant. The tearing of his skin brought Calder cruelly back to his own pain.

The symbol was almost out, pried up by the knife, which was acting like a lever, only cutting where his skin refused to separate from his muscle. With a last repetition of the final phrase so forceful Angel nearly shouted it, the skin broke off completely and Calder and William gave a last cry of pain. Breathing heavily, they watched Calder's skin float up and over to the sharp apatite, where it hovered.

Angel quietly said one last thing in Latin. The skin dropped, or was pushed, downward onto the apatite's point where it burst into mist and vanished. Immediately, the pain in Calder's arm went away, the candles blew out, and the wind stopped.

All three of them relaxed. Angel took his hands away, and both boys withdrew theirs, stretching their fingers out of the clenched knots they'd become. Angel used a voice-command to turn on the lights. Calder looked down at his arm. His skin was unblemished.

"So, it worked?" William asked.

"It worked." Angel replied. He looked exhausted.

"You- I didn't know you would feel it, too." Calder said, not looking at either of them.

"We did." William replied. He did not elaborate. Calder looked at the book as a distraction.

"So why do you turn down the lights?" William asked.

"It helps with concentration," Angel replied, slowly gathering the candles and stone and putting them away. "Less distractions."

"Angel?" Calder asked.

"Mm?"

"I can figure out what we must have said to make the knife do what it did, but what about the wind? What did we say to make that come? And why?"

Angel closed the drawers of the table and stood up. "There's always wind," he said. Angel held out his hand for the book. Calder looked at it one last time, closed it, and handed it to Angel, who walked it over and delicately put it back in its place. He let his fingers linger over it an extra second before turning to the boys.

"Hungry? Thirsty?"

They nodded vigorously and the three of them went into the kitchen for a cup of tea.