Amariah pauses in midair, conjures up some bayleaves, says, "I need to tuck these into Sue's collar, Ivy," and, when the daemon is out of the way, she puts them where they go and murmurs the poem. "Stella's kind of magic," she says, picking up speed again, "is ostensibly more powerful, but there's no sense of feedback for a made wish like I get on witch spells, so I use the latter when they'll do. Hold on tight!"

And then she loops.