amulet mind fog

I nodded, and took my pentacle out of my shirt. I wrapped it around my left hand, leaving the five-pointed star lying against my knuckles. "Okay, we're pushing our luck enough. Let's hope this works and get the hell out of here."
"Wait, you don't know if it will work?"
"It should work. It ought to. In theory."
"Great. Would it be better to stay here?"
"Heh, that's a joke, right?"
Murphy nodded. "Okay. How will we know if it works?"
"We step outside the circle and if we don't drift into Lala Land," I said, "we'll know it worked."
She braced her charmed hand on the butt of her gun. "That's what I love about working with you, Dresden. The certainty."
I broke the circle with a shuffle of my foot and an effort of will. It scattered with a pressured sigh, and the grey mist slid forward and over us.
It glided over my skin like a cold and greasy oil, something foul and cloying and vaguely familiar that made me want to start brushing it off. It writhed up over my arms, prickles of distraction and disorientation crawling over my limbs. I focused on the pentacle on my left hand, the solid, cool weight of it, the years of discipline and practice that it represented. I pushed the clinging mist away from my sensations, deliberately excluded it from my perception by sheer determination. A ripple of azure static flickered along the chain of my amulet, flashed around the pentacle, then faded, taking with it the distraction of the mind fog.
Murphy glanced back at me and said, voice low, "You okay? You looked shaky for a second."
I nodded. "I got it now. You okay?"
"Yeah. Doesn't feel like anything."
Damn, I'm good - sometimes. "Go. Out through the garden center."


Summer Knight Chapter 19, Page 228-229