Thaumatology 101 by Niall Teasdale

barely recognisable as his. ‘You,’ he said in a thick, guttural, growl. ‘You all die.’ The wind died away, and he raised his hands which began to glow. In his palms he held two balls of bright, yellow-green fire.
    ‘Back,’ Ceri said. Lily moved, grabbing Cheryl and pulling her back toward the stairs.
    ‘Ceri,’ the half-demon shouted, ‘you can’t fight him!’ Ceri felt a wave of heat pass over her as Lily’s aura lashed out, focussed on Shane. It seemed to have no effect.
    Fire roared through the doors and the sigil on the floor of the entrance way burst into life. The flames rolled, bouncing back on themselves, but some still washed through toward Ceri. She threw up her arms, crossing them, palms out, in front of her face. The fire did not touch her; it wrapped around her and over her, and then fell back. Ceri heard Lily gasp behind her.
    As the fire died, Shane staggered forward into the entrance of the house. The lines on the floor shone brightly, and it seemed like the wizard was walking through treacle, but still he moved on. And Ceri stood waiting for him, her arms held down, and out from her sides. As he approached, one stuttering step at a time, light began to glow in her palms. Energy twined around her hands, bands of it curling around her arms as she waited.
    Shane stepped through the inner doors of the house and his lips curled into a sneer. ‘Now,’ he hissed. ‘Die.’ The fire in his hands burned brighter as he raised his arms.
    ‘Widder take you,’ Ceri said. She thrust her arms forward and the energy coursing around them combined into a twisting comet of raw power. It hit Shane in the chest and he screamed as he was thrown backward through the doors. The fire in his hands died as he smashed onto the stone portico steps and lay there thrashing and screaming for several seconds before he stopped moving entirely.
    Ceri sank to her knees. She felt numb, drained, and she barely heard the other women as they clustered around her. She looked up, blinking, into Lily’s face. The half-demon was wearing the oddest expression, part awe, part fear, part desire. Slowly, Ceri began to recognise words. Cheryl was almost hysterical. Twill was speaking too fast to be understood. Lily was silent as she checked Ceri for signs of damage, but when she found nothing and finally spoke, it was her words which Ceri actually heard.
    ‘My God, Ceri, you can work magic!’
     

Part Two: Power
    Soho, London, September 23 rd 2010
    It was Friday night, with a full moon overhead, and the Jade Dragon was heaving. Ceri sat with her elbow propped on the bar and watched Lily moving between her tables like the true, supernatural professional she was. Every so often, she cycled back to what she called her “special guests” at the bar, but she was busy tonight and the visits were not quite as frequent as Ceri would have liked. At least she had company.
    On her left, Cheryl was sat on a bar stool, smiling happily. She was dressed in a dress which was just a little shorter and tighter than Ceri thought a woman her age should be wearing, but she did fill it out quite well and Carter seemed to be appreciating it.
    The owner and manager of the Dragon stood between them, leaning on the bar with nonchalant confidence. Here, in public, and in his own domain, he was the playboy club owner with an appraising glance for every woman and a ready line of mildly flirtatious banter. Part of the reason for Cheryl’s smile was that she was getting plenty of attention, and plenty of free alcohol. Carter had insisted, now that they had finally got around to the celebration Shane had interrupted, that the drinks were on the house. Judging from the way he was flirting, Ceri was fairly sure that Carter intended the celebration to end with a bang and Cheryl was certainly hoping it would.
    Ceri felt the now familiar tightening in her scalp along with a sudden shiver of sensation that ran from her groin up through her stomach. She turned her