A Wizard's Guide To Defensive Baking Novels & Stories

I push out of his arms and go down the steps, holding out my hands. “Elementals vocationem ore exíbit gládis acútus: hanc domun praesidio! Custodrie moneia malo!” I spread my hands apart, setting a line of magic around the house. The wendigo barrels out of the woods, sprinting right at us. Lucas leaps in front of me, putting himself in the line of fire. The wendigo runs into the warding and bounces off, roaring in frustration. It leans in, coming as close as it can to the warding without getting zapped.

But for every Inquisitor he downed, three more seemed to rise from the mist. "The grimoire," I whispered to myself, turning back toward the bed. "The Astral Veil." I scrambled back inside, the ancient book still open to the page on defensive barriers. If the High Inquisitor’s violet light shattered the manor’s shield, the wolves would be trapped between a wall of stone and an army of light. I had to reinforce it from the inside. I dropped to my knees, placing my palms flat against the cold stone floor. I closed my eyes and reached deep into my marrow, searching for that icy, silver spark.