"Marvelous," Algaliarept said. "You're trying to be useful already, but I want Ceri's." It looked at Ceri, her mouth open to show tiny white teeth. "Yes, love. Time for your retirement. Bring me my cauldron and the transfer media."

Tense and shirking, Ceri made a gesture and a child-sized cauldron made of copper thicker than my wrist appeared between us, already filled with amber liquid, the flecks of wild geranium suspended as if it were a gel.

The scent of ozone rose high as it grew warmer, and I unzipped my coat. Algaliarept was humming, clearly in a grand mood. It beckoned me closer, and I took a step, fingering the silver knife tucked in my sleeve. My pulse quickened, and I wondered if my contract would be enough to save me. A knife wasn't going to be much help.

The demon grinned to show me flat, even teeth as it gestured to Ceri. "My mirror," it prompted, and the delicate woman bent to retrieve a scrying mirror that hadn't been there a moment ago. She held it before Algaliarept like a table.

I swallowed, remembering the foul sensation of pushing my aura off of me and into my scrying mirror last fall. The demon took off its gloves, one by one, and placed its ruddy, thick-knuckled hands atop the glass, long fingers spread wide. It shuddered and closed its eyes while its aura precipitated out into the mirror, falling from its hands like ink to swirl and pool in its reflection. "Into the medium, Ceri, love. Hurry now."

She was almost panting as she carried the mirror holding Algaliarept's aura to the cauldron. It wasn't the weight of the glass; it was the weight of what was happening. I imagine she was reliving the night she had stood where I was now, watching her predecessor as I watched her. She must have known what was going to happen, but was so deadened inside that she could only do what was expected. And by her obvious, helpless panic, I knew that something was left in her worth saving.