"Bis?" I stammered, and Al dropped me. Wobbling, I found my balance with a hand on Al's chest, shocked. Bis had released his body's warmth to melt a patch of snow, taking the water into him to increase his size. He was as tall as me now, a grainy black, and his wings spread to make himself look bigger. Water-filled muscles bunched and flexed, from his craggy feet to his gnarly hands. He was probably too heavy to fly, and when Al dropped back a step, the gargoyle hissed to show a long, forked tongue. Damn, there was steam coming off him.
I felt Al touch the small line running through the graveyard, and I jumped. "Al, no!" I shouted, feeling helpless as I stood between a red-eyed demon and a red-eyed, horned gargoyle, my hands outstretched to them both. When did Bis get horns?
"He's just a kid!" I shouted at Al. "Al, don't hurt him! He's just a kid!"
Al hesitated, and I flicked a look behind me at Bis, surprised by the change. Bridge trolls were able to change their size with water, too. "Bis, it's okay. He won't hurt me. Ivy wouldn't let me come out here alone if it wasn't okay. Just…relax."
The tension lessened as Bis stopped hissing. He slowly lost his crouch, shrinking only slightly as he closed his wings. Al's hands stopped glowing, and there was a curious sensation in me as the demon pushed a wad of force back into the line.
Al sniffed loudly, tugging his coat about him and adjusting his lace. "When did you get your gargoyle?" he said sarcastically. "You've been holding out on me, itchy witch. Bring him with you tonight, and he can have mortar cakes and tea with mine. Poor little Treble hasn't had anyone to play with in ages."
"You have a gargoyle?" I said as Bis shifted awkwardly, unused to this much mass.
"How else would I be able to tap a line so far underground?" the demon said with forced pleasantness. "And how clever of you to have one already." This last was said sourly, and I wondered what other nasty surprises he hadn't told me about.
"Bis isn't my familiar," I said, working to stay upright as my fatigue hit me anew when the adrenaline crashed. "Al, I really need the night off."
At that, the demon seemed to bring his wandering attention back from the cold night. "Stand up," he said, jerking me upright. "Get the snow off you," he added, smacking my coat to make the crusty stuff fall away. "What the devil is wrong with you, calling me out in the snow when you have that adorable little kitchen?"
"I don't trust you with my friends," I said. "Can we skip this week?"
His gloved hand lashed out and gripped my chin before I could think to move. I stifled a gasp, and Bis rumbled. "Your aura is nearly thin enough to tear…," the demon said softly, turning my face back and forth as his goat-slitted eyes peered three inches outside my outline. "It is far too thin to work the lines, much less travel on them," he said in disgust, and dropped my chin. "No wonder you were belly down on the pavement. Hurt, huh?"
I backed up, rubbing where it felt as if I could feel him still. "So I have the night off?"
He laughed. "God's little green apples, no. I'll just pop on home and bring back a little something to make my itchy witch al-l-l-l-l better."
That didn't sound good. I had looked in my books already, finding that there was no white charm to help replace a person's aura. I didn't know any black ones either. If there were any, vampires would know about them, seeing as that's what the undead ones siphoned off their victims along with the blood.
"A curse?" I asked, backing up until I felt Bis behind me.
"It wouldn't work if it wasn't." Al eyed me over his smoked glasses and smiled to show me his blocky teeth. "I may not have much, but I do have auras, all lined up in pretty jars, like some people collect wine. I specialize in the eighteenth century. It was a good century for souls."
I stifled a shiver, telling myself it was from the cold. "I'd rather wait until mine replenishes itself, thanks."
"Like I care what you'd rather?" Turning to make his coattails furl, Al looked across the graveyard to the nearby line. "I'll be back in five minutes," he said as he started to go misty. "Soon as I remember where Ceri hid the little things. Wait for me there," he said, pointing at the nearby ley line like I was a dog. "I don't want you passing out when I come back. And have your bag with you. You're going to pay for this by starting early today. Chop-chop!"
"Al…," I complained, irritated that he would try to disguise his cheapness with a supposed interest in my welfare. He didn't care if I passed out or not. But it wouldn't cost as much to cross into the ever-after if he were in a line, and though he wouldn't admit it, Al was so far up credit creek that even this minuscule difference was important.
"There," Al said, pointing at the ground. A shimmer cascaded over him, and he was gone. Only his footprints in the snow and the lingering scent of burnt amber remained.
