The Magic Circle Read Online Free PDF Page B

scar has formed. A scar the color of amethyst. He breathes normally.
    One look at Peter’s eyes tells me Astaroth is gone. “God be with you,” I call, to make sure he doesn’t return.
    Peter looks at me in exhaustion. Then the resilience ofyouth manifests itself. He rises from the bed. He stands unsure, as though the floor might shift under him. He puts both hands to his face and smells. “The rot has stopped.” He runs one hand up his arm. “My skin is cool again.” The whites of his eyes, yellow moments ago, are now the color of thick cream. I know they will be white as clouds before long. He looks at me with wonder. He laughs. He hugs me. “Oh, beautiful sorceress.” Then he runs outdoors, shouting to his father.
    I am stunned at the word. No one has ever used the word
beautiful
for me before. No one ever will again. It is not the word for a hunchback. I bask in the word for a moment. Then I go outdoors to join the others.
    There is much rejoicing all day.
    At dusk I am sent home with Asa and Bala. Asa’s teeth are smeared with chocolate. She licks it away slowly, lingeringly. She pulls from her pocket a new candy circle of mint and sings a song about it all the way home. She puts it over the doorway, beside the other. Bala has a miniature star sapphire. I have an amethyst from the burgermeister’s sword. I will use it to draw magic circles in the future. After all, the plaice head has begun to deteriorate.
    Asa and Bala go to bed happy.
    I lie awake and think of Peter. Two things trouble mefrom today. The easier one is most perilous to my body. I think of how it was Peter’s chance words that made me call Astaroth in reverse. Had I said his name normally, the demon would not have come. I could never have driven him off. Peter would have died. And I would have been slain for falsely portraying myself as a sorceress.
    I must learn as much as I can about sorcery. I must visit Peter and read his books. I cannot let ignorance endanger my life. God tells me now to do these things. God will not tolerate my bumbling in the future.
    But the more troubling thing was Peter’s question: “How can you tell what is the work of God and what is the work of the devils?” I must be able to discern the difference or I may run afoul of God. Who am I to think I have the wisdom to tell the difference?
    I pass a second night tossing and turning.
    In the morning Asa brings me a bucket of crabs. “I used the fish head for bait,” she says. “Look how many.”
    We roast the crabs and eat them. Asa laughs. Her laugh is as clear as a gold bell.
    And now I know the answer. Much knowledge can be gained from reading Peter’s books, but not this kind of knowledge. No. It isn’t up to me to recognize the demons of this world. That is not a human task. God will tell me. All I have to do is listen.

four

BAAL
    I sit on the dry grass and look at our cabin. There are circles of green mint stretching from the top of the door up to the pointed roof and down along the eaves all across the front—payment from the many nobles whose families I have served. From here I cannot see the sides of our cabin, but I know the garland of mints goes along the eaves all the way to the back of the house. Perhaps one more year of healing would have brought enough mints to make them meet at the back of the cabin. But the garland will never be complete now.
    Asa has lost interest in mints. She is a young woman now. Fourteen years old. She no longer begs Peter to tell her tales of the land of enchanted forests. Asa hasother concerns. She dresses in velvet. Her fingers are still bare, for she awaits the perfect ring. But her hair is capped with a lace bonnet. There are ribbons of many colors woven into the strands, and she wears diamonds on the soles of her shoes. No one else knows; no one can see them. No one tries to rob her.
    I wear my brown cloak. I know that external beauty is not my fate, despite Peter’s remark when first I healed him. The boy was