Caleb set the circle with tea lights in the kitchen of the bar, preparing his demonology book by flipping it over to the page with the resurrection spell. The incantation was practiced several times with varying results, getting more promising, but that didn’t say much as nearly every time it had been an abject failure. That is, until recently.

“Hey, did anyone ever tell you not to play with fire?”

The voice came from the corner of the room as Caleb lit the first candle.

“No,” Caleb replied, “Get in the circle.”

The yellow, translucent ball of glowing energy that had spoken floated down from the top corner. It hovered over the sink as it vibrated with every pitch  of its voice. As it drew closer toward the center of the circle, two legs formed, then a torso, sitting cross-legged as the arms and then finally the head formed. The figure glowed with a faint yellow light that haloed a golden orange hue, clearly the form of a man.

“That was me summoning you.”

“Cute.”

“Yeah, I’m adorable. Will you read the incantation?”

The faintly glowing man corkscrewed his lips. “Please, I really would rather not.”

“It’s Fòdil, a demon language dating back to ancient times. It’s cool,” Caleb reasoned.

There was a long silence.

“This is stupid,” the voice said, faint and drawn out, light that took its time to reach Earth from the sun.

Caleb sighed.

The spirit was stubborn. He didn’t have time for this back and forth. Caleb dug out a stick of chalk from the box he had bought at the dollar store. Actually, it cost him nothing. Caleb had snuck it in his basket on the way out.

“Then bless this chalk for me.”

“Bless it?” the form vibrated. “Is this not a demonic ritual?”

“Well, damn it then,” Caleb said.

He held out the chalk, where the figure twisted up his mouth and took it briefly between his pointer finger and thumb. It immediately clattered to the floor, glowing with a golden hue.

Caleb smiled. “Thank you.”

He drew a white circle on the dark, oak wood floor, bumping over the indents where plank met plank, until it was a near-perfect circle around the tea lights. Caleb wished he had proper taper lights, as illustrated in the book of spells, but these would have to suffice.

“Okay, I’m going to read the spell now,” the voice said. “Gnil zgea hrl vgmwl fmsc he hrl bnwnjv!”

As he voiced the last syllable, the flames leapt in an uproar, then all of them went out in an anticlimactic sizzle and the room went dark.

“Damn it, Liam!”

“How is it my fault?”

“You didn’t say them fast enough. It’s supposed to be said three times by the soul who wishes to be brought back.”

“Caleb.”

“No, don’t apologize.”

“Caleb.”

“What?”

“Tea towel’s on fire.”

Caleb rushed to grab it and put it out with his bare hand. Now everything had truly gone dark except for the light of the moon shining in through the kitchen window. He looked at it in speculation. Caleb didn’t understand Liam’s hangup about being brought back, as he had resisted it several times over. Perhaps it was because it hurt to be brought back into his body, or perhaps it was because he lost his memory of the spiritual dimension when he gained his whole consciousness back.

Whatever the reason, with each time Liam was reluctant, Caleb began to grow more impatient. He gathered up the smoking candles and lifted onto his feet, taking them toward the trash. The hot wax was still liquid and some of it sloshed onto his hands, but he didn’t notice the stinging heat.

“Is it ever a wonder why this doesn’t work out half the time with this pilfered stuff that we have?”

Caleb wiped his hands on the tea towel and then threw it in the trash, the flower print scorched and blackened.

Liam frowned. “It's the best we got,” he said.

They sat quietly, and Caleb could just make out Liam in the dark. He was like a moon unto himself, dark except for where the light from the window made his yellow edges become a soft blue hue. By comparison, Caleb was cast in white light that exposed the sheen of sweat on his arms where his sleeves were rolled. 

They appeared to be on the fringe of something, as Liam had opened up about their lack of things despite remaining so positive all the while. Liam had said he was happy to have his simple life as a barkeep in the city where they lived, but he had made himself vulnerable at that moment, and they needed to talk.

Suddenly, a bird flew into the window with a harsh smack. Caleb jumped and turned as the bloody streak formed on the outside of the window and the bird fell out of view. They looked at each other, and Liam followed behind as Caleb rushed outside. He tilted his head at the bird that twitched on the ground, its taupe body dull as though the life were being drained from it under the moonlight.

“Kill it,” Liam said in a flippant way that wasn't like him. 

Caleb turned to Liam, shocked. “It looks like it’s going to die on its own.” 

Liam was transfixed on the bird, his hand curled up in a delicate squeeze of his red plaid shirt. Though his details were difficult to make out, Caleb knew that’s what he wore when…it happened. 

“Liam, I didn’t mean to rush out here like this, I just got wound up wanting to practice on something, um, smaller.” Easier, less stubborn, he didn’t say.

Caleb let out a short, humourless laugh, his lips barely twisting upward.

Liam spoke. “It died.”

Caleb's face fell. He looked from Liam’s glassy eyes, his expression unreadable, down to the lifeless bird corpse. The feet curled inward as the body rolled to expose one hollow, black eye between them. Caleb picked up the bird, a small amount of blood on his palm.

Liam clapped his hands. “Well, it looks like you have your practice and you can leave me alone for a while now. Bye!”

“Wait Liam! I still need you.”

Liam stopped in his tracks and turned slowly back around, as Caleb’s voice rose uncharacteristically.

“For the incantation, right.” He looked annoyed, but went along.

“Do you want to get your body back or not?” Caleb said.

Liam put his finger up. “I-”

He dropped his hand. 

It was rhetorical, of course.

In the apartment above the bar, Caleb gathered enough tea lights to start the ritual over again—and again, and again if he failed. He would do this all night if he had to. Anything to make Liam whole again. 

Liam was very different, not like himself, when he was only a spirit. Something seemed missing, a piece that Caleb had to put back when he brought Liam back to life. Caleb stepped down the final stair back into the bar and looked up.

Liam flew in circles around the room.

Caleb smiled. At the very least, this version of him was lighter, more interesting to watch…To a point.

“Cut it out, we have to do this.”

Liam floated down with a grin, his clothes gently billowing around him as though they were affected by the wind. They, along with the man, were simply an apparition; he could float through walls, or through Caleb himself, as he had proven many times. Caleb set everything out on the ground as it was supposed to be again, the candles in a circle. He dabbed away at the old lines made from the chalk and prepared to set the bird down in the center.

The rule was that one either needed the spirit of the one being resurrected, or alternatively, the body. The demonic incantation translated into English as follows: "Rise from the grave back to the living!" However, since one only needed a component of the dead, they did not need  to stand at a literal grave. This came as a relief to Caleb when he was first figuring this occult stuff out.

Caleb had neglected to remember, however, that there was a waiting period between rituals, and that his body could only take so much strain. By the time they were even successful (although to say it was a success was dubious), he had a bloody nose and a bird knocking into glasses and shakers as it flew in crooked circles around the bar. He stared at the thing that he had brought back wrong, as the warm wetness trailed down his upper lip.

Caleb pressed his finger into his philtrum and put his hand out, the blood reflecting the light of the fire. He nearly gagged as some of it went down his throat.

“Hey Caleb, sink.”

Caleb flipped Liam off and went to turn on the tap. It was a powerful blast and he washed his face quickly and dried with a towel that was still fortunately intact. He had gotten that part right, carefully cleaning the edges of the chalk to form a perfect circle. This time he hadn’t left it too close to the flame. Liam and Caleb watched the bird chirp as it landed on its side, then lift and fly in endless circles.

Caleb grinned. “It’s just like you, Liam.”

Liam wrinkled his nose. “Hit it with the towel,” he said.

“I’m not going to hit it with the towel, let’s just let it outside.”

Caleb cracked open the door.

“What if something else comes in?”

“Then we’ll have more to practice on,” Caleb said, beginning to shake with laughter. 

He had made so much progress! Despite their seeming failure, he had brought the bird back much faster than he had practiced on smaller animals when he had first begun. There was much more to be done, but he was learning fast. 

“Liam, get in the circle.”

“But you’re hurt, Caleb.”

Caleb grinned. He wiped the remaining blood off of his nose with his wrist.

“Nah, I’m just getting started.”