Within These Wicked Walls(11)

I shuffled in the large boots to keep up as we rounded the corner to the next hall. It was covered in glistening white, feathery flakes drifting down from the ceiling.

I hugged myself and stood a bit closer to Magnus to stay under the umbrella. The snow floated around us as we walked, the inch-deep layer crunching beneath my feet. I wanted to reach out my hand, but I wasn’t sure I should touch it. As beautiful a Manifestation as it was, it was still part of the curse.

We left the wet umbrella and boots at the opposite end of the hall and continued on, stopping in front of a large closet.

“All the supplies you could ever need are in here.” Magnus unlocked the closet and opened it to reveal stacks upon stacks of thin silver disks, all about the circumference of my face. On one shelf there was a basket full of spools of different-colored thread, and beside that a welding pen. “Just ask me or Peggy if you need access.”

I tightened my jaw to keep myself from gaping. There must’ve been hundreds of disks. I’d never seen that many at once. I could fill my satchel and live a good life until I was old and grey.

You can’t steal his silver, Andi. He’s paying you too much for you to go and become a thief. And besides, God will see you.

I examined the welding pen without bothering to pick it up. It looked expensive, but only based on aesthetics, because the tip was slightly too thick to be of any use. I’d stick with mine. I shifted all the thread from the basket to the shelf and began filling it with silver disks instead.

“Are those all right?” Magnus asked, looking at the thread I’d put away.

“They’re perfect, for when the time comes,” I said, examining each disk for imperfections before I put them in the basket. “I don’t need them for simple Manifestations.”

“Which is the simplest room, would you say?”

“The stairs.” I tried on the pair of sleek black metal welding goggles beside the ridiculous pen. They even had an optional magnification lens with the twist of a gear. Keep. “It’s not physically present, only visual. I suppose you could call it an illusion. Normally that means it has a weaker hold than Manifestations that actually make contact with the physical world.”

“I’ve always wondered, what’s the difference between the one you’ll make for the stairs and the one you’re wearing?”

I glanced down at my amulet. “This one is an all-purpose shield. It protects me from curses and deters Manifestations. The ones I construct to cleanse the house are specific for each Manifestation, essentially expelling them back to where they came from.”

“Hm.” Magnus crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder on the wall to face me. “How can you tell which amulet goes with which room?”

“I visualize it, like a map in my mind, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” He paused. “No one’s ever explained it to me this well. It’s actually fascinating when you understand how it works.”

“I think so, too.” A small hammer and jar of nails were the last thing I added to the basket before hooking it over my elbow. I usually didn’t get to explain my craft to anyone, and I was actually enjoying the conversation, but I wasn’t sure how to continue it.

“You know, you don’t have to work quite yet,” Magnus said. “We can’t sign the contract until Esjay arrives tonight.”

Well, I had been enjoying it. Now I wasn’t sure I liked where it was going. “I like work.”

“Yes, but there are so many other things we could do to entertain ourselves. Plus, until the contract is signed, it’s unpaid hours. Esjay would say that’s unethical. Although, didn’t you say you got kicked out for being unethical? Maybe you don’t mind.”

He was fishing. I didn’t honor it with a response. God knew me and I knew myself, and that was enough. He was right about one thing, though: I didn’t want to work for free. But this place needed to be cleansed badly, and now. “Who makes the rules here, you or Esjay?”

Magnus was speechless for a moment, just looking at me. “In that case,” he said, suddenly, “I’ll leave you to enjoy your work.”

He turned on his heel, the bells on his ankles growing softer and softer the further he journeyed down the hall.

I headed back to the stairs, looking at where the cracks and shifting had appeared last night. They were still as a frightened lizard. But there was a presence, barely echoing off my amulet, so subtle I could almost mistake it for my gentle heart.

I sat in the middle of the stairs, setting the basket beside me, and put on the safety goggles. I closed my eyes for a moment, and the chalk marks in my mind became clear. Four edges, each a diamond shape. Rows of crosshatching along the inside. A basic amulet design, but tedious. Perhaps an hour to construct.

I removed one of the silver disks from the basket and flicked the geared flint on my pen, igniting the small torch where most people would find a simple writing tip.

This was my favorite part.

Starting with the edges, I moved the torch point through steadily, removing excess silver in large pieces. And then it was time to line the diamond shapes up. I handled the pen a bit slower so I could feel when the stroke lined up with the chalk blueprint in my head and sliced off the necessary silver.

I double-checked the edges were even, then clicked the magnification up on the goggles to start on the crosshatching. The Xs of the hatching had to line up, each be the same size. An easy technique, but I still couldn’t be lazy about it. This was the part that could mess up the entire amulet if I made a stroke outside of the blueprint.