Ill Wind

"Hey, Star," said a voice from behind me. I turned to see a youngish woman sitting behind a table— well away from the cash register and counter— surrounded by books, a coffeemaker, and a butterscotch calico cat. She had brown hair cut in a shag and watchful cool eyes that struck me as capable and observant. "New romances in—you want to look through the boxes?"

"Not today, thanks, Cathy." Star exchanged what appeared to be a significant look with the woman. "I need the book."

If that seemed odd, asking for «the» book in a store littered with them, the woman clearly didn't think so; she looked spooked, not confused. "I thought we were done with that."

"Almost," Star said. She held out her hand, half-plea, half-demand. "Come on, Cathy, just this once."

Cathy shook her head, got up, and walked to the back of the store. She opened a door marked NO ADMITTANCE.

"The book?" I asked Star. She shrugged, still watching the open door at the back.

"Took me years to track it down," she said. "Cathy finally bought it off the Internet for me. I told her she could have it when I was done with it."

"What is it?"

Star smiled that lopsided smile. It wasn't comforting this time. "It's a surprise. You'll see."

Things thumped, back there. Cathy returned carrying a limp cardboard box, top closed, that looked like it weighed a considerable amount. She dropped it down on the desk and folded back the stained box wings.

"You're sure?" she asked. That silent communication again between them was nothing I could interpret. I didn't know Cathy Ball, but I felt like I should; on an impulse, I reached out and passed my hand over hers.

Glyphs shimmered, blue and silver. A Weather Warden. She looked up sharply and met my eyes; I smiled and showed her my matching set. Nothing eased in her body language. "Star?" she said. "You know I don't like other Wardens around here."

I hadn't been expecting a hug, but this was a bit much; we're generally a pretty chummy group.

"Sorry," Star said, not sounding too sorry at all. "She's a friend. She needs our help."

Cathy shot a look toward David, clearly asking the question. "No," I said. "He's not. What've you got against other Wardens, anyway?"

"Nothing," Cathy said, which vibrated like a lie all along my nerves. "It's just that they're trouble. Bunch of power-hungry, crazy, egotistical jerks, generally. I like peace and quiet." Her eyes narrowed at me. "Take that business in Oklahoma City today. You wouldn't believe what a mess that was. The aetheric was screwed up from here to Kansas, all the way over to Phoenix. Took hours just to get the temperature variances back to normal."

I threw a save me! look at Star, who was busy taking a huge leather-bound book out of the cardboard box and shaking off white packing peanuts. She ignored me, shoved the box off to thump on the floor, and eased the book down to the desk on top of a mound of category romances.

The cat that had been slinking inquisitively around Cathy's plate of doughnuts hissed around and skittered away, shooting past David into the farthest corner of the store. David had paused with the new Stephen King novel in his hands, staring at the book that Star had laid out, and I saw cinders of gold and bronze catch fire in his eyes. It was the real deal; I could see that from the intensely blank expression on his face.

"Star," I said, "Look, maybe this isn't the right time. I'm really tired, I'm starved—let's take this thing with us, get something to eat, maybe have a good night's sleep and talk it over. I'm trashed. Really."

She flipped open pages that crackled like vellum. "This won't take long."

That was what I was afraid of. Cathy Ball sat back down in her chair, picked up a pen, and wrote something down in a ledger, but she couldn't take her eyes off Star for very long. I wondered what kind of history there was between them, because I could have sworn that the woman looked… scared. Of Star. Who didn't have a mean bone in her body.

"I'll need your Dji

Cathy put the pen down. "No," she said. "Not after last time."

"I won't hurt her."

"I said no, Star."

Star looked up, finally, and I wasn't in the right angle to see her face, but I did see Cathy's. It went pale.

"Chica," Star murmured, "don't make me get all cranky with you."

Cathy's lips pressed into a thin line, and a frown grooved between her brows, but she reached into the desk drawer and came out with a tiny little glass perfume bottle, one of those little sample sizes. She tossed it across the desk to Star, who caught it right-handed.

"I'll be in the back," Cathy said.

Star didn't watch her go; she unscrewed the lid of the perfume bottle. No visible result, but I felt a surge of something behind me.

"Can I help you?" the Dji

She was a child. Or at least she looked like she was no older than fourteen—dressed in a pale blue dress with a white apron. Long, long blond hair, straight, held back with an Alice in Wonderland blue band. Her heart-shaped face was sweet and i

When she looked at me, she frowned and wrinkled her nose. I knew she could smell the Mark. She looked from me to David, still standing like a statue in the general fiction section, but there was nothing to show she recognized who or what he was. She focused back on Star.

"Hey, Alice," Star said, and held out the book. "Hold this."

Alice didn't move. She didn't resist, but she didn't comply. Star muttered Spanish curses under her breath and yelled Cathy's name. Twice. Cathy finally came to the no admittance door and looked out.

"Tell her to obey me," Star said. Cathy rubbed her forehead.

"Do what she wants," she said wearily. "Three times only."

Alice nodded. I was glad, for Alice's sake, that Cathy had put a limit on compliance.

"Hold this," Star said again. Alice extended her arms and took the book from Star's hands. There was something about it that the Dji

"Here," Star said as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer, next to her. "Read this out loud."

"What is it?" My legs were trembling, my heart pounding. The adrenaline was making my Demon Mark hiss and stretch inside me, and that only made my heart race faster, as if it wanted to escape.

"Hey, you want to fix this thing or not? 'Cause chica, the Demon Mark is nothing to screw around with. You let it get control of you, and you won't be the same."

I looked down at the words, not words at all, some kind of symbols, and I started to tell her I didn't know what they meant, but something clicked in my head and I did know, I understood, I could hear the way the words were supposed to sound, taste the heavy flavor of them on my tongue. There was power in this thing. Earth power. Maybe fire. Certainly nothing I could control, though.

The words waited, wanted to be spoken. I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again and heard the first syllable whispering and gathering strength and echoing in the sounding bell of my mind.