One Final Summoning

Yvonne's nerves tingled as she thought about it. Tonight was the night. The barriers between worlds grew thin this eve as at no other time of the year, allowing a being to pass. Those strong enough could send their influence through at almost any time, but only tonight could they themselves pass. The idea first occurred to her following last Samhain, just after her corruption by the Underworld.

She poured herself a glass of warm, dark wine to steady her nerves. Sitting down in front of a crackling fire with her glass, she drifted into the memories. The seance she attended last Samhain was organized by a coven she had never visited. When she got there, she learned they performed all rituals sky-clad. It was a cold night, and she couldn't imagine standing around without clothes for even a few minutes, let alone an entire seance.

Then one of the ranking members of the coven told her how the witches present could combine their powers and warm the air in the vicinity of the ritual. It worked quite well, and only a few times did the wind manage to push cold air into their midst. After the seance ended, she walked back with the witch who had told her about combining strength.

Rosalind, who had since become her mentor and friend, looked at her out of the corner of an eye. "Chilly?"

"Only a little." At first she wondered how the other witch could know she felt cold, but when she looked down at herself it became obvious. Embarrassed, she fumbled for words. "It's slightly cooler tonight than it has been, and with winter coming it will only get colder. How do you manage to hold sky-clad rituals once the cold sets in?"

"Why, the same way we did tonight. We cast spells to ward the wind and warm the air surrounding our circle."

"But I felt the wind blowing in several times tonight. If this had been Mourning Moon or, even worse, Yule..."

Rosalind burst out laughing. "The wind got through our ward tonight only because we didn't have help. The weather turned cold on us without warning and we had no time to prepare. We had to depend on just our own power."

"What do you mean by help?"

Rosalind looked askance at her. "Why, from the other side, of course."

Yvonne's jaw dropped.

Rosalind's eyes twinkled. "You've never asked for help from the other side?"

"Well, yes, I mean.... It's what we do. ask for help from the other side, I mean. It's just... I never thought of anything so immediate as heating a cold area. All of the uses with which I'm familiar involve slow, steady changes."

"Yes, that is the way it is with the powers that thrive in the Light." She stepped closer and lowered her voice even though no one was nearby. "The powers that thrive in the Dark, however, work much more quickly. They are not bound by any of the concerns about doing harm that hamper the other side."

"So they will come and do you bidding right then?"

"No, in that, at least, they do share the same restrictions as the Light ones." Rosalind shook her head and looked down. "They cannot travel through the veil on their own. They can only send their power through."

"And they will send that kind of power through the veil for us to use as we wish?"

"Yes, they will."

At that revelation, Yvonne fell silent, lost in her thoughts.

The older witch saw the unfocussed gaze and guessed at her thoughts, probably because she had entertained similar ones when she first learned what she had just passed on. "It is fleeting." She sighed and said, "The power, when sent through the veil, only lasts for about an hour. During that hour you can achieve nearly anything, but when it ends you will be back to your old self."

"Is there not some way of prolonging its effect?"

"None that I know. Only the manifestation of a demon that is summoned during a ritual has all of its power, and even that is temporary, it fades when the ritual ends."

Yvonne started tying her boot and said, "Imagine how powerful you could be if you could summon your own demon and wield that much power as your own."

"Yes, but that is not how it works."

On her way home that night, Yvonne wondered about what Rosalind told her. She was also intrigued by some of the implications.

Beginning the morning after Samhain, Yvonne started learning everything she could about summonings. If there was any way for her to have even a fraction of the power of a demon, she wanted it.

It was not easy, because the information she needed lay hidden and scattered, but she gleaned pieces of knowledge from covens around the country. Sometimes, Yvonne felt an urge to tell Rosalind about all she had learned. Every time she resolved to tell her friend, though, something happened to change her mind.

Then one afternoon Yvonne had the other members of her coven over to plan the upcoming seance marking Blood Moon. After everyone else went home, Rosalind stayed to have supper.

Between bites of lasagna, Rosalind glanced up and asked, "How is your research going?"

Yvonne nearly choked. "What do you mean? What research?"

"Oh, please. You've been traipsing all over the country visiting coven after coven. You're compiling some kind of delving."

Yvonne tried to answer but couldn't get a word around the lump in her throat. "Have a sip of wine. Then take a deep breath and tell me all about it."

She should have listened. She should have sipped. Instead she gulped and choked. Rosalind had to come around the table and rescue her.

When Yvonne was again breathing without struggling, Rosalind kept standing there. She stood next toi Yvonne's chair rubbing her back and shoulders in slow, relaxing sweeps. Then Yvonne realized one of Rosalind's hands had cupped her breast. The caresses were so gentle, though, the young witch let herself ease into the touches.

Somehow, she always knew this would happen. And it felt so right. She was afraid, but wasn't sure whether she feared Rosalind's continuing or stopping more.

Yvonne woke to the sound of a bird sitting just outside her window singing his merry song for all the world to enjoy. She rolled over without any more fuss than she needed, so as not to wake Rosalind. Yvonne lay there for almost an hour, watching her sleep.

True, there was an age difference, but it wasn't even a decade, and Rosalind had so much energy she actually seemed the younger. Yvonne eased the sheet back to expose her friend's full figure. The gentle rise and fall of her chest and her soft, smooth stomach only invited Yvonne to kiss and caress them.

The clock chimes woke her from her reverie. Nearly midnight. She and Rosalind had worked long and hard for this night, and they were about to see if their work was worthwhile.

After she shared her story with the older woman, she found what a help her new love could be. Many of the sources she found were written in odd, ancient scripts and Yvonne had to struggle through them as best she could. Rosalind, she found, read several of them and knew people who could help with most of the others. Rosalind didn't really want to explain, but it somehow involved her ex-husband, an archaeologist.

Pieces began falling into place faster than she could have managed on her own. By the Corn Moon they were ready. Or at least Rosalind thought they were, One of the scrolls had some undecipherable scrawlings on it. there was no hope of reading them, but Yvonne was not about to let all their work be wasted; she told Rosalind she had found the translation when she knew better.

"It's settled, then. This Samhain, we become the most powerful witches in histliory." She raised her wineglass and Rosalind took hers up to share the toast to their plan.

Thinking about that toast made her lift her wineglass again. She swirled the crimson nectar uroundo the goblet and was lifting it to her lips when she heard the jingle of keys. She took a quick sip before the door opened.

Rosalind came in carrying another bottle of wine. "This is for after. Something to celebrate our success."

"Good. I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

Rosalind laughed. "As if I'd miss this."

Yvonne set her glass on the table as she stood and walked over to her love. She gave her a quick kiss and said, "I've got everything set up already. Come on."

In the basement, they took off their clothes. "Somehow, performing rituals sky-clad indoors just seems wrong," Rosalind complained.

"Yes, but we need to keep this one secret from even our sisters."

"Agreed. Besides, after we've summoned our new pet, it'll be a lot easier to manage indoors."

Tonight was not only Samhain, It was also the new moon. New moons only fell on Sabbaths now and again, and one falling on Samhain only happened a handful of times during an average witch's lifetime. There was no reference in all their sources as to the phase of the moon on this sacred night, and Yvonne had liked the idea of combining the new moon's influence to their undertaking.

Now sky-clad, they took their places and waited to begin. Yvonne was leading the ritual, and she wanted the summoning to take place during the exact time of the new moon.

When it was time, she began. Going by their sources, the two witches had decided it would be best for each of them to cast a series of spells independent of one another first, and only combine power when it came to the actual summoning.

All of the containment spells cast, Yvonne turned toward Rosalind. Their eyes met. They nodded to one another, and both sent all their remaining power into the circle.

Nothing happened. Yvonne looked at Rosalind, who was looking at her. They waited. Nothing happened. They waited.

Finally, after waiting almost an hour following the summoning, Yvonne admitted failure. She looked at Rosalind and shook her head. They started blowing out candles around the circle and collecting the remnants of the rite.

"What do you think we did wrong?" Yvonne asked.

"I don't know," Rosalind said as she picked up the last candle. "But don't forget no one has ever tried anything like this before. We weren't following some set of instructions, we were guessing."

"Yeah, and it seems somewhere we guessed wrong,"

The clock in the hall upstairs chimed. Rosalind froze. "Has the hall door been open all this time?"

Yvonne shrugged. "I guess. Why?"

"Because I haven't heard the clock chime all night until just now."

Yvonne's eyes widened. She glanced over at the circle still drawn on the floor. The whole house shook as a sharp clap of thunder sounded outside. The single bulb, now the only light in the basement, went dark.

"Great!" Yvonne said into the darkness. "I didn't know there was a storm coming tonight."

"There wasn't," a voice from somewhere in the dark answered. "I called it."

Both witches screamed. The containment spells, whether they would have worked or not, had dissipated when they packed away the candles and other items. Whatever had answered their summons, it was loose.

Something hit Yvonne in the chest hard enough to throw her into the wall nearly a dozen feet behind her. There was a crash somewhere off to her left. She could only guess that Rosalind had been sent flying as well.

The voice, as rough as she'd always imagined a demon's voice would be, came out of the dark again, "I want to thank you both for bringing me again into this world. I have missed it so much."

Yvonne sensed the movement of a large force in the room. Something she guessed would pass for a hand gripped her by the throat and lifted.

Rosalind grunted in pain. There was a sound Yvonne thought had to be the crushed remains of her spice rack. She wondered how badly her friend was hurt. She tried to ask, but the entity holding her sensed the question and squeezed her throat shut.

The thing put pressure on her throat until she saw bright colors flashing through the black around her. Already stunned from the twin blows it gave her, Yvonne didn't last more than a few seconds before she passed out.

Yvonne awoke to her little friend singing happily outside her window. A gentle, rhythmic blowing on her cheek told her someone was breathing on her face. She opened her eyes slowly expecting to be looking a demon in the eye. Instead, she was lying but a few inches from Rosalind.

She bolted upright with enough force it made her head spin. Grabbing Rosalind by the shoulder, she shook and yelled, "Ros! Ros! Wake Up!"

Rosalind blinked and fought to focus. "Good morning to you, too."

"What happened last night? Where did it go?"

"Where did what go?" Rosalind rubbed sleepiness from her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Last night, you and I performed the ritual we've been planning. Only something went wrong, and it got loose. It had us both. You were injured."

"The ritual isn't until tonight, silly." Rosalind sat up and pulled Yvonne back under the covers with her. "Now, whatever you thought happened, it was only a bad dream."

"But it seemed so real..." Yvonne said as she curled in with the other witch.

Rosalind smoothed her hair and said, "I know. Dreams always do."

She drifted back into sleep after a few minutes, with Rosalind stroking her hair and cooing into her ear the whole time. The next time she awoke, Rosalind no longer lay in bed with her.

Getting up, Yvonne walked down the hall to find her. The smells of cooking led her to the kitchen. She had to laugh when she walked to the door. There stood her beautiful lover, standing stark naked expect for a tiny apron she had once given Yvonne as a gag gift.

Yvonne stepped into the nook behind her and said, "Smells good, when do we eat?"

Rosalind spun around, obviously startled. "Oh, I didn't..."

The instant she turned, something inside Yvonne snapped. Some kind of wall went up in her mind and trapped her. Yvonne's body, with her trapped inside, crossed the kitchen to Rosalind in a blink. She grabbed her head and pulled her into a tight clench.

Yvonne could see, hear, and feel everything she was doing, she just couldn't control any of it. Yvonne, or rather not Yvonne, pushed her tongue deep into Rosalind's mouth. As it began extending down her throat, Rosalind starting fighting, but it was already far too late.

Rosalind had a look in her eyes Yvonne could only describe as sheer terror. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn't. When the demon's tongue almost reached her stomach, it stopped moving. Then its voice, that awful voice from what Yvonne had thought a dream, sounded in her head, "I owe my return to this world and it pleasures to you two. However, Rosalind, with your natural caution, almost hesitated, something that would surely have resulted in your abandoning me. Yvonne decided to forge ahead without translating that accursed scroll, and thus she is my savior, and I shall be hers."

While the demon talked, Rosalind relaxed, but as he finished, she fought with the strength of desperation to pull away. It was a short struggle. A flash as bright as any bolt of lightning went off down her throat. She tensed, and Yvonne could see shadows from her organs on the wall behind her.

Yvonne realized she could smell what she would have thought was bacon frying, but she knew with sickening certainty that it was Rosalind. Her flesh exploded as her blood began to boil. Yvonne wanted to close her eyes, she wanted to look away, she wanted to shield her face, but the demon had other plans. He made sure she saw it all.

Yvonne screamed, she struggled, and she fought, all to no good. The demon who was going to use her body to destroy the world was starting right here, with her friend, her mentor, her lover.

When he dropped the steaming cadaver that had only a few seconds ago been Rosalind, the demon turned and walked, still naked and covered in blood, to the front door. When he stepped out, he took a moment to adjust to the bright sunlight. It was a bright, clear day, but there were storm clouds on the horizon.