THREE HOURS LATER, Theo had prepared the Draught of Invocation with his convoluted instructions. This was half the battle. Tansy had positioned the black candles in the correct configuration, which was about one eighth of the battle. Together, they had prepared the ritual salt, which was approximately one sixth of the battle. Theodosius was not very good with fractions, so he was not sure precisely how much of the battle was left. This caused him some anxiety.

"Alright ... I think now, all that remains is for me to meet your grandfather, and we can begin?" said Theo. It came out as a question, because he was still trying to find a denominator.

"I'll get him," Tansy said. She went to the narrow stair between the parlor and the dining room and began to climb. Some time later, she came back down with an elderly man on her arm. He was short and stooped, and his eyes were watery and vague.

"Grandfather, this is the friend I brought to see you," Tansy said, guiding him into the dining room where Theo waited.

"Oh, yes," the old man said. "Yes."

"You don't know him, but he's here to help us. His name is Theo. He's a sorcerer. Theo, this is my grandfather, Roland."

"Yes, I see. Hello." The old man took Theo's offered hand in his cool fingers, pressing it lightly.

"So good to meet you, Mister Pemberton. This will be short and easy, and you'll feel right as rain very soon," Theo hoped.

"Right as rain," echoed Roland Pemberton.

"Does he need to be over here?" Tansy queried, gesturing to the ring of as yet unlit candles.

"No; the invocation is essentially ... well, essentially, it consists of us—er, me, I suppose—asking a ... a higher being for a favor. That's really all it is. Your grandfather need not take a part in the ritual itself; he should just be close by."

Tansy nodded. She helped her grandfather settle down into one of the straight-backed dining chairs they had moved up against the wall. Then she folded her hands and looked expectantly at Theo.

First, Theo lit the candles, walking slowly and ominously around the circle and hoping he cut a very impressive, sorcerery figure. Then, he ladled the Draught of Invocation into a pewter cup. Then he entered the circle of candles. "Would you please bring Elliott over? Cats are strong conduits, channels for magical energy. He'll help empower the ritual."

Tansy located the cat, who was disdainfully staring at them from underneath one of the couches. She brought him over to Theo and set him down by Theo's foot.

The cat walked away.

Tansy picked him up and placed him back near Theo.

The cat walked away again, meowing.

Tansy picked the cat up again, set him near Theo on the floor, patted his head and pointed her finger at him sternly. "Stay, Elliott."

Elliott meowed and wandered off. He had the good sense to go in the other direction this time.

"Good heavens," Tansy sighed. She chased down the cat again and brought him back to the ritual space.

Theo took Elliott from Tansy and held him securely in his left arm, ignoring all the furious wriggling. "Please stand back," he advised Tansy.

Tansy retreated. She stood next to her grandfather, watching with a crease in her brow. Theo painstakingly poured salt in a shape that could be loosely defined as a circle, enclosing himself and Elliott in magical protection.

Now that he was closed in, Elliott calmed enough that Theo could set him down. The cat sat and curled his tail primly around him. He blinked a slow, disdainful blink.

Theo began. He grasped the pewter cup of potion in his hands and raised it above his head, intoning in his most impressive and powerful voice, "In the ancient tradition of the ones who walk in shadow, I seal this circle of guardian salt and begin this ritual secure. As the circle remains unbroken, so does the practitioner remain untouched.

"With deep respect and in severe need, we call upon the spirits of the world beneath our own. We beseech thee for thy aid, O Powerful Ones! O Warriors of Shadow, O Guardian Spirits of Flame, O Monstrous and Terrible Ones! And so on!

"By the sentinel winds of north and south, by the singing winds of east and west, I invoke thee!

"By the burning, brazen flame, I invoke thee!

"By the chilling depths of dreaming water, I invoke thee!

"By the laws of creation, which bind living thing to living thing, I invoke thee!

"By the endless web of nature, I invoke thee!

"By the power of my iron blood, I invoke thee!"

He paused and glanced around the room, trying to get a gauge on how crackly and magic the atmosphere had become. It was his first invocation, after all. And, seeing very little crackling in the atmosphere at all, he considered for the first time that the invocation might fail entirely. That would be terrible.

Or, it could all go horribly wrong and result in death or dismemberment.

Or, worst of all, he could fail to impress Tansy! The mere thought was enough to induce crippling performance anxiety.

"Uh—by the sun and the moon, I invoke thee!

"By ... uh ... mountains, and pebbles, and ... sand ..."

Theo cleared his throat. Tansy cocked her head slightly, looking confused, as if she was beginning to sense that this was not going as smoothly as Theo had led her to believe it would.

Well, no place to go but forward, Theo, old boy. "By this powerful Draught of Invocation, which I will now drink, I invoke thee!" He took a tentative sip of the draught, grimaced at the horrible, bitter taste, instantly regretted not guzzling it in a single gulp like the folks did with spirits at the bar, took another sip, tried not to focus on how foolish he must look, and continued choking the horrible stuff down.

Tansy made a soft sound of concern from where she stood nearby, looking on. Theo's face had gone an eerie shade of gray-green. "Th-theo?"

"Shh," he croaked mysteriously. "Interruptions are unwise."

"I'm beginning to think this whole—"

"Shh." He tried not to gag on the last of the drink.

"—thing is kind of unwise, I mean—"

"Tansy."

"—perhaps I should have asked more questions before agreeing—"

"Miss."

"—so strange and more occult occult than I was expecting when you said—"

"Tansy, please."

"—I mean it's not easy, there's not a scale of occult...ness, you know, for easy reference—"

Women will have their say, even in the midst of a summoning of dark forces from beyond the mortal realm.

"Tansy, if you could just—"

"—gracious, and even the cat looks a little upset, but then again, it's a cat—"

"He's right, you know."

A smooth, feminine voice inserted itself seamlessly into their fretful exchange, cutting both Theo and Tansy's ramblings short. "It's terribly rude to distract from the ritual. This nice sorcerer is doing his best to beseech me, and you're distracting him. Rude. Tsk. Rude."

Sweat dampened Theo's brow, and his palms, and his cravat, and his everything else. He looked around wildly, trying to locate the source of the voice, but it had seemed to come from everywhere. Tansy, for her part, had frozen, wide-eyed with terror. At least old Roland was comfortable; he had fallen asleep.

Theo felt a finger lightly trail over his shoulders. Goosebumps marched up his spine. When he turned his head, there was no one there. "Welcome," he stammered.

"Oooh, thank you, Theodosius. Terribly kind. This little hovel is so charming. I'm glad to have come. Glad. Thrilled."

"Thank you. Thank you for coming. For coming here."

"Wouldn't have missed it." The source of the voice seemed more certain now; it was consolidating near the hearth. As Theo and Tansy looked on in fascinated horror, the shadowy shape of a female began to materialize out of the darkness. At first, the flickering flames of the hearth could be seen through her legs and her arms. Then, she solidified.

Coal gray skin, hooves, a whip-like barbed tail, curling horns arcing out of tumbled black hair, flashing yellow eyes ... she was terrifying.

Even in what appeared to be her pajamas.

The humans blinked, except for Roland, who just snorted contentedly in his sleep.

The demoness smiled the sort of smile that looks more like a knife in the dark. When she spoke, a wisp of smoke snaked out of her mouth and nose, as if her insides were on fire. "What? You act like you've never seen a demon before."

"Well, ah, strictly speaking, we haven't. Except in pictures. Crudely drawn pictures. With more, ah, facial hair."

"Ugh! You humans and your patriarchy. Disgusting. As if female demons simply didn't exist. Little known fact, humans: we're far more powerful. Far."

Theo hesitated. Then he timidly gestured in the direction of the demoness' pajamas, which were floppy and featured a pattern of sheep leaping over picturesque little fences.

She looked down at herself. "What? You didn't exactly give me advance warning." She perused the room with her eyes. "So? What is it? You've dragged me up to the mortal plane from the bowels of hell. You must be proud of yourself, my darlings, and you deserve it! It isn't easy, invoking. Not a bit. Sometimes, if it's not done well, I'll just go ahead and devour the practitioner. It's insulting to waste my time, you know. But you're kind of cute, Theodosius, so I'll humor you. Plus, humans go straight to my thighs. So go on. The Great and Terrifying Bihatra, at your service: what can I do for you?"

"O Great and Terrifying Bihatra, we call upon you for aid," said Theo.

The Great and Terrifying Bihatra raised her eyebrows and gestured for him to go on.

"Tansy's grandfather has a sickness of the mind. We beseech you to cure him. If, ah, this ritual has ... you know. Been to your liking."

"You humans are so stupid. Invocations aren't to our liking. If you wanted us to like you, you'd stop doing this nonsense. Instead, you keep on pulling us up here, interrupting our regular schedules to drag us into your lives. Whatever happened to a good, old-fashioned sacrifice? Ugh. But I am a savvy businesswoman, Theo. So let's do it!"

Theo, whose face had been very green thanks to the draught he had taken, had gone paler and paler. Now, his face was white and waxy. "Uh?"

"Just keep in mind, Theodosius," Bihatra crooned, making his name a sweet caress, "Nothing comes to you for free, and I am not. A cheap. Date." She walked across the room toward Theo, managing to sashay even in her casual ensemble. She had sharp fangs that gleamed when she smiled. "Do you agree?"

"Agree to wh-what?" Theo asked, his throat dry with fear.

"To tit for tat. Tradesies. Fair and square. I scratch your back, you ... well, you'd die of blood poisoning, probably, but it's just a saying. You scratch mine. That's how it goes. It's all about reciprocation. I'll help you out, and someday—maybe today, maybe on the day you die—I'll take a little something in return."

Theo was normally a very cautious soul, but the mind can only take so much. At this point, it was all he could do to stay standing and maintain control of his bladder. "I agree."

"Shake on it," Bihatra whispered, and her voice was like the hiss of a snake. He felt it winding around him, slithering down his neck.

Theo shakily extended his hand. She extended hers. When he touched her skin, his hand burned. He let out a sharp cry of pain.

The demoness giggled. "Ooh, squishy little mortals. Well now. Which one's the granddaddy? The decrepit one, I assume? So hard to tell sometimes." She sauntered over toward Tansy, who stumbled back from her, putting out an arm to shield Roland. Bihatra stood with fists akimbo and lifted one brow. After a moment, Tansy shrank away, opening the way between the demoness and the old man.

Bihatra bent at the waist and reached out slowly. "Roland Pemberton," she whispered, a thread of smoke curling up from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes glowed hot with fire. "Roland. Come back to yourself."

The old man's eyelids fluttered. He looked up at her blearily, finally roused from his sleep. His watery eyes reflected the flames from the hearth, which seemed to have risen higher and higher, lighting the entire room with an eerie, hellish orange glow. The demoness trailed one finger down Roland's cheek. He made an unhappy sound at the touch, which left a thin red mark on his skin. But a crispness, an awareness came back into his face. The fog was burned away.

"There you are, Theo, sweetums," Bihatra said. In all, she had spent a matter of seconds with Roland. "Remember your promise. Toodle-oo for now! Cute cat."

And with a curl of smoke, she was gone.

The hearth burned down to smoldering embers. The room was overwarm. Theo's dry, rattling breath was the only sound at first. It was definitely just a rattling breath, not crying. Definitely not crying at all. It's just, the smoke was kind of in his eyes.

He regained his presence of mind when he heard Elliott pawing at the salt ring, effectively breaking the circle. The cat appeared to be searching for the facilities and, without a litter box at paw, was making do.

Theo had enough wit left rolling around in his skull to pick the cat up and deposit him outside.