Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Promise?” I said sarcastically, and he grimaced as he unwrapped the chocolate bar and broke it into four pieces with a disturbing reverence. He gave the first to me, ate the second himself, and squished the remaining two pieces into two thick, gooey sandwiches. Nothing for Trent, but that was par for the course, and Trent shook his head when I divided my piece in two and offered him half.

            “Rachel, I know you will not listen . . .” Al started.

            “Brad thinks it’s the ring he cursed Cassie’s employees with, not the cure for it,” I muttered, wondering what Al was trying to distract me from as the chocolate dissolved on my tongue. “The mage was furious, almost as if Walter had broken the ring itself, not just its hold on David. Said he made it useless.” Which sounded right if he had been Hodin’s student. Hodin had a nasty habit of leaving things out to keep himself above those he deemed a threat. That was how I had ended up cursing Pike’s brother in the first place.

            My head snapped up, a new thought trickling through me. “Unless the curse and countercurse are within the same ring?”

            “Ah . . .” Al’s posture stiffened.

            “Is that possible?” Trent said in excitement, and a soft groan slipped from Al.

            “Is that it?” I said, knowing I was right. “The ring is both the cure and curse? I didn’t think you could do that.”

            “That’s because we don’t,” Al said, his expression pained in the come-and-go firelight.

            “Because you can’t, or because you won’t?” I asked, and his breath escaped him in a worried sound. Crap on toast, there’s more to this than he’s telling me.

            “Won’t.” Al glanced at Trent as if reluctant to divulge demon secrets. “It would have to be crafted on a Möbius strip to hold both the cure and curse.”

            This was new. I was familiar with the twisted strip of paper that turned three dimensions into one, but had never heard of it being used to spell with. “A Möbius strip?” I questioned, and Al glared at Trent as if all the woes of the world were his fault. “You may as well tell us both. I’m going to tell him anyway.”

            “You would, wouldn’t you.” Mood bad, Al flung a log on the fire and the sparks flew.

            I jumped when Trent touched my shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said as he rose. “I don’t mind stepping away. I do this all the time to protect trade secrets.”

            “Sit,” I said coldly, my eyes narrowed on Al. If he didn’t want Trent to know, he shouldn’t tell me. If he didn’t tell me, I was going to find out some other way, probably hurting myself—and Al knew it. Most days Al probably wouldn’t care if I hurt myself, but lately I’d become a convenient buffer between him and his kin. “Well?” I added as Trent slowly sat.

            “You try me, itchy witch,” Al grumped. “If either of you use the knowledge, you are too stupid to live and therefore deserve to die.” He took a breath as he drew himself into a dignified stiffness. “A spell utilizing a Möbius strip base creates a self-renewing magic. Back and forth like the tide. Never-ending and therefore dangerous.”

            I’d always felt that love was a self-renewing magic. But then again, love was dangerous. “So, one side is the curse, and the other is the cure?” I guessed, and Al nodded.

            “Because of its never-ending capacity, a Möbius curse exacts a correspondingly high price for its construction.” Lip curled, Al glared at Trent. “Which is why the elves were the only people desperate enough to practice their creation,” he accused. “What you hold is experimental elven war magic. Something they tried to make work and couldn’t. Otherwise, they would have used it on us and there’d be a record of it. The only reason Hodin knows of it is because they tried it on him. Tried and failed.”

            “Well, it worked on David.” I nudged the ring across my palm with a finger. “What does it cost to make it?”

            “The life of the one who twists it.”

            Trent jerked, his foot hitting mine with a tingling surge of energy. Suddenly the ring felt foul, heavy as it lay in my palm. It was dark magic, not just a curse, and I curved my fingers around it, hiding it. “Why would anyone . . .” My voice faltered. “You’d have to trick someone into doing it. Someone with enough skill to perform it and foolish enough to trust you. One death for a lifetime of magic.”