Chase had actuallyseenthe demon? Even Professor Fairfax had no information about Faust’s appearance.
“He’s small?” I asked. Generally, smaller demons were weaker, but Faust could’ve been an exception.
“Yeah, shorter than me, and kinda skinny.” Then Chase pointed at the ceramic incense holder on the left. “By the way, he says that incense is a few inches off from where it’s supposed to be.”
Fury swelled within me, smothering my curiosity. How dare that demon tell me what to do?
Livid now, I gripped my bow tighter. The sooner we finished this exorcism, the better.
...But now that I was looking at it, I noticed the incense holderwasslightlyout of place.
Scowling, I hurried to nudge it back into position, then returned to my spot in front of Chase. I closed my eyes, ready to concentrate on the ritual.
Chase’s voice broke the silence: “Now Faust’s laughing and saying that fixing the incense holder won’t help anything.”
“Be quiet,” I snarled without opening my eyes. “Don’t repeat another word from the demon’s foul mouth.”
“Okay, sorry.” I heard Chase fidget in the creaky iron chair. “So do I just sit here?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have to do anything?”
“No,” I growled impatiently. “Don’t speak. I’m beginning the exorcism now.”
Once Chase was finally silent, my mind settled. I quieted my doubts and fears. My thoughts melted into the darkness.
Without opening my eyes, I slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out my rosary. I rolled the wooden beads between my thumb and forefinger. I mouthed a silent incantation as the beads went by, one by one.
Soon the room pulsed with energy, as if the temple’s holy grounds were rejecting Faust’s presence. The demon was a bone lodged in the temple’s throat, and I would be the one to get rid of it.
When I opened my eyes, I was only steps away from Chase. He blinked up at me with those stunning blue eyes.
Stunning? Ugh. Focus, Sagitta.
Anxiety clouded Chase’s expression, but he remained seated, waiting for me to work my magic.
He trusted me to save him. And I’d promised him I would.
Without looking away from Chase, I pulled an arrow from my quiver. I threaded it through my ring of prayer beads, andwhen it emerged, it had transformed. It was no longer a physical object, but a fluid shape formed of holy light. It glowed brighter than the candles, like a beacon in the darkness.
Chase sucked in a breath.
“This won’t hurt you,” I promised again, “but I apologize in advance.”
In a swift motion, I yanked Chase’s mouth open and jammed the holy arrow down his throat.
Like a panicked animal, Chase thrashed in the chair. I stepped away to give him space.
My heart raced. Since Faust couldn’t dodge or exit the salt circle, it was a direct strike. My arrow wouldn’t kill a named demon like Faust, but the host should be inoculated against him. The human’s body became uninhabitable. And with no host, Faust would be forced to disappear.
I hoped.
Then Chase cried out. I winced, my excitement instantly forgotten.
I steeled my nerves as Chase writhed. I hated watching exorcism rituals, but it was a necessary evil. Chase was in no pain. The thrashing was a mechanical reaction, like a tightly coiled spring being released.
Yet part of me still wanted to comfort him. To put my hands on his shoulders and promise his suffering would be over soon.
