Page 42 of Casting Butterflies

A smile quickly wiped when something smashed a stained-glass window.

15

So apparently, evil magical monsters didn’t give a shit about God’s holy temple.

The pernicae squeezed itself through the hole it smashed, uncaring of the remaining shards tearing at it. In that moment, I realized the beast didn’t make any noise. No grunting of effort, no shrieks of hunting excitement or even of pain. The only thing it emitted? Glaring intent.

Despite its lack of vocals, the ruckus of its entry drew attention and a man in a frock—the black priestly, not frilly pink kind—rushed into the nave, only to stop abruptly in shock. No surprise, he did the sign of the cross. To even lesser surprise, it didn’t do diddly squat.

To my amusement, the priest grabbed hold of the big gold cross on the altar and held it in front of him as he advanced, chanting. I admired the balls on him, even as I yelled at his dumb brave butt. “Run away! It’s not here to hurt you.”

The priest’s gaze slewed my way and I waggled my fingers. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to draw the monster here.”

I couldn’t tell if he understood English, but at least common sense kicked in and he ran, kicking the skirts of his gown as he headed away from the pernicae. Good. I’d hate to add accidentally getting a priest killed to my long list of sins if I ever did meet God—which might be soon if I didn’t get my shit together.

“What should I do?” I asked Cedric as the pernicae, who’d hit the floor, began shoving at the pews, trying to get at me.

“Not die.”

“Ha. Ha. How am I supposed to stay alive? I don’t have a gun to shoot it,” I remarked as I clambered over a pew to stall for time.

“You might not have a weapon, but you do have magic,” Cedric reluctantly reminded as he casually leapt and kept pace with my huffing attempt to delay the inevitable.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to use it.”

“Don’t see as we have a choice.” Cedric quickly hopped to the next pew over just as the one he’d been perched on got knocked over.

“How do I focus the magic so I only take out the pernicae and nothing else?”

“Very carefully.”

I could have growled at his less-than-helpful responses. It occurred to me Cedric likely didn’t have a clue either. This magic I’d been given didn’t come with a rule book. However, I’d played with it enough by now to know it worked by more or less wishing. A wish that needed to be explicitly constrained.

“You should probably do something,” Cedric warned as the pernicae advanced.

Ordering the monster to stop moving would provide a temporary reprieve I could hopefully use to kickstart my brain.

My hand flashed forward. “I command thee to cease your approach and stand still.” I pushed the image of what I wanted, the pernicae frozen in place. It halted abruptly, and I exhaled loudly. It worked, but now what?

How did one kill something that didn’t live? I doubted it had a heart I could stop. If I exploded its body, would it die permanently or still come back? What if instead of trying to murder it, I rendered it harmless?

“You’re just a sweet and cuddly teddy bear,” I declared, imagining it with fur and a pudgy, furry belly.

Bad idea. The pernicae suddenly turned shaggy, and thicker, like a bear—with great big teeth—and it still had wings.

“Good job creating a new nightmare creature,” Cedric muttered.

I needed something more delicate. “You are as gentle as a butterfly.” I know, I can’t believe I said it either, given my recent experience, and yet the colorful bugs with their flapping wings popped into my head.

Whomp.

There was no actual noise, more like shock as the pernicae suddenly turned into a massive bug of nightmare suddenly no longer frozen in place. It flapped its wings and hovered in the air before swooping toward me.

“What are you doing?” Cedric yelled.

“Trying to make it into something harmless,” I hollered back, flattening myself as the monster butterfly swooped.

“It’s not working.”