It’s getting close to being done.
The first warning I had — a faint crinkling as windows and mirrors cracked — had my fingers up in a defensive ward before I quite realized what had happened. That kept the sudden biting cold from gnawing on my brain, which would do until I could lock and reinforce the ward.
Curwin blinked, then shivered as he instinctively moved to my side. I found myself quite glad of his proximity; defensive charm or not, the windowpanes were growing hoarfrost at an alarming rate.
“How long before it happens?” Curwin’s voice was surprisingly loud in the room, and I noticed that his tonfa was glowing, again. I oddly wondered how often the Boston police replaced them.
“If it had been a spell, it’d have happened and been done by now.” I shook my head, grunting in the most ladylike manner possible as I locked the ward in place. “But this is a manifestation, so it depends on how powerful the spirit is.”
“Right, not a ghost.” Curwin sounded in good humor, thankfully, and I presumed through an enviable ignorance. “They can’t generate this kind of cold for long.”
“Well, technically it is just sucking heat out of the area — ah, perhaps later.” An entity was unfolding itself in the air above the pile of books I had turned into an impromptu focus. I frowned at the energies, which felt different somehow, and yet familiar…