Leatrix cursed softly as a scalding droplet of wax landed on the back of her hand.

'Stupid candles,' she complained to no one in particular. 'Why should a demon care what colour your candles are? Suppose they won't be summoned because you've got the wrong kind of drapery for the season, or you put out the tea without a doiley!'

With this last outburst, she tossed her ladle back into the pot of melted wax, crossed her arms across one another on the table, rested her forehead on her arms, and breathed a deep sigh.

She supposed if Adrion were here, he would be laughing at her. But Adrion was not here, had not been here since their disagreement, and besides she had decided that she was going to do her best to put him out of her mind.

Leatrix had been busy making arrangements to summon her very own pet demon for months now. Since she had been expelled from the school of alchemy her brother had packed her off to last spring, it had been her only interest. The only trouble was finding all the ridiculous ingredients and accessories that her demonology books demanded - the proper sized altar, the ritual knife with a translucent edge, and of course, these black candles.

These damned, stupid black candles.

Leatrix lifted her head and began picking at the edges of the mold, peering in at the wax she'd poured. It had taken several tries to find ingredients that demons would like and turn the plain beeswax a sufficiently dark shade. She frowned. The wax was starting to dry a cakey, off-colour hue. It was mostly black, she decided. Maybe a little on the red side.

'Oh, bugger it anyway,' she muttered, standing. 'If this colour isn't good enough for them, they can stay in Hell for all I care.'