Crossed Lines
Leo took a slow refreshing drink from a cup of now warm water, sitting at the edge of an intricately designed diagram drawn out with fine red chalk, his eyes scanning studiously over his magnum opus, checking it for errors or faults, knowing even a single smudged line could result in his downfall. Everything was perfect and exactly as the book had detailed, the chalked lines the definition of precision on the designated aspen wood floor, stones and gems of varying origin expertly carved with runes long extinct from the world placed around the central circle, candles dotting each of many points, the wax of the candles infused with his own blood, the fire burning with a slightly greenish tinge, a sign things were as they should be. Now all he had to do to …