His mind kept returning to the dry, dusty tomes he’d once studied so diligently. Magic was personal. Each mage conjured spells along the same genera... formula – a Gate was always a Gate – but a mage imbued their own essence, their signature, into every spell. Once cast, no other mage could change the spell. They could add to it, over-write it and even destroy it, partially or completely, by patching their spell over it, but they couldn’t take over the spell.Yet, the demon had. The Gate had been. ’ ‘You’re welcome to it,’ said Crystal with a winning smile as she handed it over to the receptionist who greedily guzzled down three long draughts. The receptionist regarded all four of us—and especially me—with a hostile expression she didn’t bother to disguise. She didn’t like the fact that my head was shaven any more than she liked Judy Dildo’s rock chick uniform of denim, leather, jangling jewellery and tattoos. ‘Ain’t you that lezbo punk rock group from England I’ve heard tell about on. More

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