I take a peek out the window as I wait for my tea to brew. The wind howls through the woods surrounding the dorm, and the moon is only a sliver in the sky. I grab a towel to dry off my hair and think over my reading options as I open my wardrobe.
I've picked out a set of pajamas, and decided on my book, when my window flies open. More than a gust of wind whips into my room. Darkness sneaks in. It's more than a mere shadow. It moves like liquid. As the eerie wind knocks over a bunch of knick-knacks on my desk and sends papers flying, the dark circles rapidly around the candles. They're snuffed out all at once. The only light source left for me to see is the fire.
Though that's invaded next as the insidious darkness pours into the fireplace.
I'm left frozen in place as the howling wind turns into real wolfish baying. It sounds like a song. Or a conversation. Two animals howling at one another, and with each howl it getscloser and closer, until it feels like there's a pack pawing at the walls of my room.
Am I going crazy?
Or this could be another cruel joke being played on me by the Charmwell twins.
I stumble through the dark toward the window. With shaking hands, I pull it shut and put the latches firmly in place. As I turn around, the fire bursts back to life. One by one, the candles flicker on.
What in the world...?
Or maybe what in theotherworldwould be more accurate. The candlelight and firelight aren't cozy anymore. It's ghoulish. Tinted a lusty red instead of a comforting orange and yellow. And I'm not alone. Something is here with me.
A set of shadows skitter across the floor. It's too fast for me to discern the shape or size. The howling quiets and is replaced by panting. The same cadence of pants I heard earlier. I follow the sound and look over at my mirror. The surface has fogged over with a strange message written on it: draw thy circle.
"Who's there?" I ask. "What do you want?"
The only answer I receive is an invisible hand drawing a circle in the mirror.
Against my better judgment, I snatch my bag and dump its contents onto the floor. I'm scared, but I'm also curious. If I find out what's happening, I'll know how to stop it. Steady hands. Calm mind. I pick up the chalk and right there on the wooden flooring of my dorm room; I redraw the summoning circle by memory.
All on my own, I make the shapes and speak the words. I do the ritual; I cast the spell. Though I don't make an offering. No iris. No catnip. I sprinkle salt all over the floor.
The circle glows. Faint red, almost pink, but as I end the chant, it burns red. Smoke rises from the circle's sigils, but there's no spontaneous fire this time.
Something grows inside the circle.
A shadow at first, but then a shape. A solid form. It twists and twists, silent, but then the howling starts once more. The howling forms its own shape. Teeth. Shiny. Sharp. Pure white. The blackness stretches. Wispy until it takes on a texture. It grows fur. A gnarly, tangled mass of thick black fur.
Two shapes. Two mouths.
And two tails.
"What...what are you?" I ask this beast-like spirit. This is nothing like the small and quaint feline familiar spirits my classmates summoned. Whatever I've invited isn't that. The beast opens both mouths, but it speaks no words. Only sound. The split and crack of firewood being chopped in half.
It snaps its jaws open and shut to speak again, but the second try doesn't fare much better than the first. The sound it makes is terrible. Screams. Shouts. A dozen different voices clashing against each other. It's too loud. I wince, palms pressed flat over my ears. I try to listen over the pain, but it's too much. I don't know what they're saying.
Those teeth shift into a silent snarl.
I try again too. "Why are you here?" I lift my hands from my ears and cross them over my chest. I warily eye the circle. This thing seems stuck inside the inner circle. While its giant paws are close to the lines, it hasn't crossed over. It can't. The circle holds.
"Summoned." It finally speaks. The voice it speaks in is raspy. Like a death rattle. "You call. We answer."
No way. My eyes widen, and my breath catches in my throat. "How many of you are there?"
"One and one."
So, two spirits. Unless this is a riddle. Or it's all one big trick. I shake my head, not ready to believe a word slipping out between all those teeth. This is dangerous. I should banish this spirit back where it came from and alert Professor Hawthorne about what happened...but then what?
I'll probably get in trouble.
He might never let me try summoning a familiar again. And without a familiar, I won't be a proper witch, fully educated and practiced in all aspects of the craft. I'll be relegated to hedge-witch status for the rest of my life. Only dealing with small-scale potion brewing and tending to herb gardens.
No, that can't happen. I don't want that. I've only just started learning about my magic and gaining experience in witchcraft. It'll kill me to be locked out of so much knowledge.
