I noticed the sound first. Something about the room felt off, a small skittering sound, difficult to locate. The vibrations came next, from the floorboards beneath my feet, again, small, and disturbing, like a thousand tiny knives scraping at the wood, clawing to get through. I threw the salt, said the words.
“You sure this will hold?” she asked, a worried look on her face.
“I’ve cast this spell a thousands times,” I replied, trying to sound confident. “It always works.”
At least, so far.
When the odor arrived, I knew they were getting close, that acidic mustard smell sticks in my nostrils, makes my tongue tingle. I’d never experienced the odor that strong before, never knew them to arrive in such numbers before. Plan B would come in handy right about now, providing I had a Plan B.