Mage Heart. Jane Routley

      "Thank you," I said.

      She stood up to go. "Perhaps I should leave you to rest now."

      She wished me good-night and left, left me with my head buzzing. As I scurried around placing the invisible runes of protection and distraction on the walls and over the openings to the room, I hardly thought of the demon who had caused everything. Instead my head was full of thoughts of her. On one hand, I congratulated myself on resisting her manipulations. How strong they had been in that frightening moment. But I had noticed and pulled back in time. On the other hand, I was drawn to her by an enormous curiosity. So that was Kitten Avignon. Would I ever understand such a woman? I had to admit she was a very attractive person.

      When I awoke next morning and heard the twittering of the little birds in the trees outside my window I was filled with joy. After the eight o'clock ritual I got back into bed and lay there watching the tips of the trees moving in the wind. A maid brought me breakfast. She seemed to assume I would eat it in bed. The food was delicious-crusty rolls and incredibly strong hot chocolate. I must have been a little hazy from lack of sleep for it was not until the maid returned with a brush and bucket that I remembered the demon.

      Then I was disgusted with myself. Michael had been right when he had said I was flighty. Last night I'd had a brush with death magic and I'd gone to bed with my head full of childish thoughts about the life of courtesans. Oh, I was a fool, no doubt about it. I had caught the attention of this demon, and I hadn't the wit to worry about it.

      I started to worry then, to wonder what on earth to do. I knew I should go to the Dean and confess the whole thing. And yet ... Runes of protection and distraction were the only method for driving off unwelcome attentions. I couldn't think of anything else the Dean could do, except never forgive me or trust me again. Except always suspect me of having death magic leanings. One mistake, and in their eyes I would be damned. It had been an accident, for God's sake.

      I was rationalizing. I had almost touched the demon's hand that first time. I could almost hear Michael telling me that one was never an innocent victim. He would have made me go to the Dean. "Take your punishment," he would have said. "You deserve it. You did wrong." I knew that was what I should do. But I shuddered at the thought of the Dean's anger and disappointment.

      No. There was nothing to be gained from telling the Dean. I was sure I had done the only things possible. I had dispelled the demon and taken steps to hide myself from him.

      "Yes, girl, eventually you dispelled him. But first you listened to him. And you were tempted, weren't you?" said Michael's voice in my head.

      No, not tempted. Merely curious. Merely fascinated by this evil, amoral creature.

      He could not enter this plane. He probably would not even have appeared had I not been thinking about my hazia dream with such longing. So if I didn't think about him, he wouldn't come. Maybe he'd already lost interest in me in the chaotic way of demons. Somehow I doubted it was that simple. That meant that he would return, and that meant that telling the Dean would be my wisest course.

      My thoughts kept on like this for the rest of the morning. I tried to settle down to some trigonometry, but I couldn't stop arguing with myself.

      By the early afternoon I'd begun thinking about what Michael would have said and how I'd let him down. This is ridiculous, I thought. Come on. You're going for a walk. You can't sit here and mope over Michael all day. Not again.

      I put on my cloak and went downstairs.

      The house seemed empty except for the distant clatter of the dishes in the kitchen. The rooms downstairs were big and light and white. My feet clomped across the polished floors in a very satisfying way.

      It would have been better if I had gone down for lunch. It would have given me a rest from my worries. But I'd been afraid Kitten Avignon would be there, and I'd decided, now I'd recognized how curious I was about her, that it would be wisest to keep away from her. Why did I have to be curious about such unsuitable things? Courtesans and demons. Why couldn't I be interested in something worthwhile, like Michael's secret names of rocks? I could see my curiosity over Kitten Avignon getting me into as much trouble as my curiosity over demons had.

      There were some sweet-smelling roses in the front hallway. I took a deep sniff of them. Already my heart felt lighter. I was managing to avoid Kitten Avignon well enough, and I had done everything I could to get rid of the demon. Bright, early spring sunlight was coming in the windows. It looked like a beautiful day outside. I was suddenly sure everything would turn out right. I opened the door and went out into the garden.