11

I picked up some of the salt, some of the iron, and placed them under my tongue. the reason for that is that although contact with iron will dissipate a spell, residual traces of magic remain and will still react to cold iron. A human's fingers are not sensitive enough to feel the reaction, so the lips and tongue are used.
There was a scalding 'zing' that made me yelp, and I spit the iron filings out. Ow, yeah, fae spell. I looked around, everything in the room had been pushed up against the wall for the most open space possible. There were scuffs on the floor and chops in the wood it looked like someone had attacked the floor. My possibles bag peeked out from under the secretary's desk in the small outer office, along with any other steel and iron object I owned. All I had on were my clothes, even my belt and shoes had been removed.
As the last residual effects of the glamour faded, I came to realize I had never actually left my office. Everything had happened here, there had been no monster. All of it had been under the control of Mr. Cobb. I did a very quick burn from puzzled to royally upset, and the only thing I could think was to find Cobb and rip an explanation out of him. A more rational part of me however, smothered the anger after a few minutes and I sat down to puzzle a few things out.
The big question was why he took the time to do this. An even bigger question was where and how did that damn soul bottle fit in all this? The bottle scared the crap out of me. It had been the cause of my parents' deaths, and almost mine and Fawn's as well. It was the kind of magic that only crazed, powerful, and/or really stupid magickans got close to.