Underhanded

Winston wiped away the visible portion of the pentacle while I kept well away from the dripping holy water. he wore a sort of fixed grimace and scrubbed so hard at the wood I thought his hands would bleed. Meinwen tried to help but he pushed her away. "I have to do this," he said through clenched teeth. "I want this evil son-of-a... gone from my town."

Meinwen nodded and stood back, watching. It didn't need to be completely arranged – we all knew that the slightest gap in a pentacle nullifies it. I recall Harold being horrified when I stepped out of a circle he'd made with salt, once, because I could see a path trough the grains.

By the time Winston had finished he still had half a bucket of the holy water left. "Save it," I said. "lob it at Thorburn if he's behind this door."

"It won't do any good, will it?" he said. "He's not a demon, nor have we seen any instances of unholy magic. Throwing holy water on his charms will be a bit crap."

"True," I said, "but you try casting a fireball when you get a bucket of water in the face half-way through the incantation."

"Ha!" Winston nodded and held the bucket ready for an underhand throw. "When you're ready then, squire. He must know we're here by now so I suggest rushing him."

I took a deep breath. "You know," I said, "this is the first time I've wished we had Julie with us. She can throw a mean spell when she wants to."

"I remember," said Winston. "Not just spells, either. Remember the balloon filled with urine?"