The door banged open, rebounding from the wall hard enough to rattle the contents of shelves across the room before slamming shut. A ceramic pot teetered uncertainly and finally tumbled to the floor and shattered, filling the room with a noxious odor.
“It didn’t work, you lying old witch!”
The voice was shrill and filled with complete and utter rage.
“You said you wanted revenge, and from what I’ve heard, you got it.”
“I wanted the bastard dead!”
The old crone shrank down into her chair, putting up a gnarled hand to shield her face. “I told you everything I know!”
“Then you were wrong.”
“Your summons may not have been appropriate—”
“—Or your information was incomplete. You have one chance to tell me what I need to do this correctly.”
“The Book,” the crone babbled, “You need The Book. The Seventh Door!”
“I have the damn book! I preformed the sacrifice as prescribed, used the implements outlined in the ritual, and the child’s soul was accepted. He even gave me this.” The moonstone pendant was dangled in front of the old woman. “Why is the mage still alive?”
“You used a child’s essence to curse a grown man?”
“Yes.” For the first time, the speaker sounded uncertain.
“Your sacrificial offering must resemble the target of your curse,” the witch explained sullenly, “Otherwise it doesn’t work, no matter how nicely you ask. I was quite clear on that point.”
“Black hair, green eyes, and common-born. I even had a lock of the mage’s hair. How much more ‘resemblance’ is required?”
“Idiot. There isn’t enough power in the soul of a child to inflict lethal harm on an adult. Didn’t you read the ritual completely before you started?”
The silence was answer enough.
“You nobles,” she continued, “you’re all alike, thinking the rules aren’t for you. I’m surprised the power or the thing you summoned didn’t double back upon you for such clumsiness.”
There was a thoughtful pause and the speaker took a deep, steadying breath. “I think I deserve some sort of recompense for the risk I took in summoning Him without the proper information. And for the mess.”
“I’ll tell you this. The mage isn’t going to die. The thing you summoned will only linger until the power of the boy’s soul is used up, then It will have to return to whence It came. There’s your ‘recompense’. No charge. Now, get out.”
A stray beam of light glinted on metal and the old woman opened her mouth to scream.
The sound never left her throat.