He studied her doubtfully. “You’re not asking me to use magic to keep them out?”
“No. I’m asking you to use magic to let me know if they try to get in. I’m asking you to create a warning system.”
“Well!” he huffed. “Well!” He threw up his hands again. “Why didn’t you say so before? I can do that! Of course, I can!” He glanced at the sky. “Look at the time we’ve wasted talking about it when we could have been putting it in place. Criminy, Nest! You should have gotten to the point more quickly!”
“Well, I—”
“Come on!” he interrupted, jumping from her shoulder and scrambling back up the tree trunk toward Jonathan.
-=O=-***-=O=-
He flew the owl back across the park to her house while she followed on foot. Midday was approaching, but it was still misty and gray, the clouds low and threatening, the air sharp with cold. The wind had not returned and no new snow had begun to fall, but the return of both seemed altogether likely. Nest stared at the houses bordering the park, indistinct and closed away, their roofs snowcapped, their walls drifted, and their eaves iced. There were cars on the roads, but not many, and they moved with caution on the slick surface. It was Christmas Eve day, but she thought people would try to confine their celebrations to their homes this year.
When she reached the house, Pick was already at work. She had seen him do this before in the park, when warding a tree. The process he used was the same in each case. Here, he flew Jonathan from tree to house, to tree, back to house, and so on, forming a crisscross pattern that draped the threads of magic in an intricate webbing. At each tree he stopped long enough to conjure up a sort of locking device and receptor, invisible to the eye, but there to serve a dual purpose—to anchor the magic in that particular place and to feed its lines of power. No materials were used and nothing of the work was visible, but the result was to render the house as secure as if a fine steel mesh had been thrown over it. All passageways in or out were covered. All entrances were alarmed. Any attempts to pass through, whatever form they took, would be detected instantly.
It took him almost an hour to complete the task, working his way slowly and carefully from point to point, all around the house, spinning out his lines of magic, making certain that nothing was missed. She stayed out of his way as he worked, watching in silence. There would be no more surprises like last night’s. If the demons tried to come back again, she would know.
“Now here’s the thing to remember,” Pick advised when he was done. He sat on her shoulder once more, Jonathan perched in a sycamore some distance off, awaiting his summons. “Any attempt by a demon to get past the net and into your house will trip your alarm. This alarm isn’t something that rings or honks or whistles or what have you. It’s a feeling, but you won’t mistake it.”
He lifted a ringer in warning. “A human entering the house won’t trip the alarm. A human going out won’t trip it either. But if you open up a window or door and leave it open, you invite the demon in and the system fails. So close everything up and keep it closed.”
She frowned. “I didn’t know that part.”
“Well, it hardly has any bearing in the park, when we’re warding the trees, because there isn’t anything living inside the net that would open it up in any case. It’s different here. Keep everything shut tight. If you do that, the demons can’t get past the system without you knowing. Think you can remember that?”
“I can remember.” She gave him a smile. “Thanks, Pick.”
“Just remember what I told you. That’ll be thanks enough.”
He looked exceedingly proud of himself as he jumped from her shoulder and scurried across the yard to climb back aboard Jonathan. Together, they flew off into the haze. She watched them go, thinking that Pick, of all her friends, over all the years, was still the most reliable.