“Ab aeterno,” I said boldly, finger just under the swirly handwriting. It translated roughly as “from outside time itself,” and it would move the circle outside of reality so I could manipulate it. A smile took me as, with a little hiccup of sensation, the circle and everything inside it became hazy and indistinct.

But the collective, I abruptly realized, had gone utterly silent. Thoughts were focusing on me, little trills of outrage and surprise marking their presence. Someone get Dali, I caught clearly from one of the demons, and my satisfaction took on a hint of worry.

It wasn’t as if I could stop, though. “Tria jucta in uno,” I said quickly to bind the three intensifiers to the little bulb, and the stirring of complaint in my thoughts grew stronger, more alarmed.

“Festina lente!” I exclaimed to finish it. It was the part of the curse that would keep the plant alive under its accelerated growth, and with a little jump of line energy, the earth inside the circle gave a little burp . . . and a green sprout burst forth.

“Sparkling fairy farts, you did it, Rache!” Jenks crowed.

Then get Al! I caught in my thoughts, and I jerked from the collective.

I was still holding the ley line, and the curse unrolled before me, manifesting itself as the plant continued to grow. A sudden thirst slammed into me, and hunger.

“Stef, could you get me some water?” I stammered as I lurched and sat down fast. My eyes fixed on the plant stretching for the top of the circle. My tongue rasped like sandpaper, and worry hit me when the plant began to wilt. My head hurt, and when I put a hand to my stomach, Stef looked at me in alarm.

“You’re dehydrating,” she said, then ran for the back door.

“Jenks, show her where the hose is!” I exclaimed, then slumped, exhausted. This was going to need more than a glass of water. Struggling, I pulled my head up, my attention shifting between the growing lily stalk and Stef dragging the hose from the church. Okay, it was taking a lot out of me, but it was working. Obviously the collective wasn’t happy about me using it, but I had it.

“Damn, girl,” Jenks said as he came back, dust an excited silver. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Oh, God. Thanks.” I reached for the hose and angled it so I could drink from it. My hands shook as the first of the water hit me, and I slammed it down, not caring if it tasted like old plastic. I was going to put not-getting-sick to the test, and as I finally felt my thirst begin to slack off, the single lily stalk withered and died.

“Oh, no!” Stef cried out. “I went as fast as I could.”

“No, you’re fine,” I said as I came up for air and wiped my chin. “It’s the end of the growing season.” Because that’s exactly what it felt like as I sensed the plant gathering what it could from the yellowing stalk, finally falling to the earth and collapsing. I thought it interesting that the weeds and grass hadn’t grown at all, unchanged as the lily died back to bare earth. The “grow seed” focused and directed.

“See?” Jenks said, as proud as if he had breathed life into it himself. “It’s coming back.”

Two stalks pushed the earth aside this time. Again the thirst hit me, but I was beginning to figure this out, and instead of letting the energy pour through me unchecked, I narrowed my concentration down, easing the incoming ley line energy. Sure enough, the plant’s breakneck growth slowed until it was only mildly disturbing watching the leaves widen and unfurl. Flower buds formed, and I kept drinking, feeling ill and sick. Clearly the plant was taking more than water from me, and hunger pinched my gut.

“You don’t look so good,” Jenks said. “And that plant doesn’t, either. Be right back.”

“Jenks?” I called after him. The plant seemed fine to me, but I eased off on the growth even more as the buds lengthened and grew . . . and began to lose their green tint.

“That is ever-loving amazing.” Stef’s eyes were fixed to the plant quivering in the firelight. “And you did it without killing anything.”

I frowned, wondering if that was what everyone thought I did to do demon magic. No wonder UPS wouldn’t deliver to me anymore.

“Here, Rache. Eat this.”

Jenks was hovering an annoying two inches in front of me, and I took the small, pixy-size wad of I-don’t-want-to-know. “It’s your pollen,” I guessed. “You need this.”

“Buy me a jar of peanut butter,” he said, brow furrowed. “Eat it. Your eyes are going funny.”

My stomach hurt, my head ached, and it didn’t matter how much water I sucked down from that hose, I still felt ill. So I ate it, mashing the dry pollen ball up and swallowing it whole.

“That’s better,” he said, clearly pleased as he hovered back.

Behind him, the lily burst into bloom.

“Ohhhh!” Stef exclaimed, eyes wide in the firelight.

Thank God, I thought. “Stet,” I croaked to end the curse, and with a little hiccup of energy, the plant was again in our reality. Oh, I was still connected to it, but it wasn’t racing forward in time anymore, and I heaved a shaky sigh and downed another gulp of water before tossing the hose aside to thump heavily into the tall grass.

My shoes were wet and one part of the fire had gone out and was smoking, but I didn’t care as I sat heavily on the stone seat and looked at the two blossoming flowers amid a plethora of buds. They were enormous, but their beauty, longevity, and potency had been bought. By me. Maybe there was a reason the demons had gotten upset. Newt hadn’t seemed to have any problem with it, but she’d been moving a soul through time, not a living thing.

“Rachel, that is amazing.” Stef reached to touch it, pulling her hand back when Jenks cleared his throat.

Slowly I began to smile. I could smell it even through the confining circle. It was going to be as obnoxious as hell on your birthday.

“Not bad.” Hands on his hips, Jenks tossed his short, wavy blond hair. “You did in five minutes what the sun and rain do in two years.”

“So now what?” Stef asked. “Dig it up and drop it on her doorstep?”

“Something like that.” I suppose I could have gone out and bought a lily, but they weren’t blooming this time of year, and even if they were, they wouldn’t have been grown with the added longevity and intensifiers that I’d bound to this one. “Let’s see how that intensifier worked,” I said, then dropped the circle.

“Oh!” Stef jerked away with her hand over her face, and Jenks shot backward, inking a sour green dust. The scent of lily hit me, thick and cloying, and from the shadowed garden, pixy complaints rose up.

“Damn, that’s strong.” Jenks landed on my shoulder and hid himself in my hair. He’d put his red bandana over his nose, and his eyes were tearing. “Circle it, Rache. That’s awful.”