Touch of the Demon (52 page)

“Beyond both,” Ilana said quietly. “Find the balance between the head, the heart, and that which lies beyond.”

“Easy for you to say,” I said with a smile. “But right now I’m going to take a nice long bath. Deep thinking will be a lot easier once I start feeling human again.”

I headed to the bath and lounged for awhile as I processed the events of yesterday. We’d beaten Rhyzkahl.
Holy shit. We beat him.
My argument with Mzatal seemed so trivial now, though I knew the core of it still mattered tremendously. I remained a prisoner because of the agreement, yet it was hard to even bring up the same feelings about it. A different light had been shed on the trust between us. I couldn’t explain it, but right now I knew I trusted him as much as I could trust anyone. More really.

My hands were nicely pruney by the time I dragged myself
out of the bath-pool. I toweled off, slipped on a robe, and headed out, then paused at the sight of Mzatal standing in his usual spot on the balcony, looking out, hands behind his back.

I took a deep breath, padded out in my bare feet. I stood beside him, not saying anything.

“I brought you to these rooms so that I could watch over you,” Mzatal said quietly. He exhaled a low breath. “And, I wanted you close.”

It took me a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about. Then I realized.
Oh, right. I moved out.
Technically, this wasn’t my bedroom anymore.

He shifted and splayed his hands on the rail. “It cannot be like it was.”

“Well, I fucking hope not,” I replied, with perhaps a hint of acid in my voice. But then I sighed and shook my head. “I hope it can be better.”

“It already is,” he said. “So much has clarified.”

I looked over at Mzatal. I knew much had clarified for me, especially with regard to how much I trusted him. But how much had clarified for him? And, if so, in what way?

His left hand dipped into a pocket then placed a ring on the rail. My ring. The one I’d thrown against the wall. The lovely blue stone had a long crack in it.

I felt a flush rise and opened my mouth to apologize for treating his gift so poorly, but he spoke first.

“While I was on the balcony after leaving you in the workroom yesterday,” he said, voice low and resonant, “I had begun considerations for the restructuring of our agreement.”

I picked up the ring, ran my thumb over the fracture in the stone. “What sort of restructuring?” I asked, stomach suddenly knotted with tension.

He turned fully to me. “I would ask you to trust me as I trust you, and terminate the agreement altogether. It is a limiting factor.”

The tension dropped away so completely that for an instant I felt weightless. “I’d like that,” I managed to say through the near-dizzying relief. Mzatal enfolded me in his arms and bent his head over mine as he let out a long breath, murmuring something in demon.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Words of gratitude are not needed,” he replied. “I cannot give you what is already yours. But I accept them and offer mine to you.
Dak lahn
.” He pulled away only far enough to take the ring from my hand. “I will have the stone replaced.”

I shook my head. “No. Leave it. I want the reminder, corny symbolism and all.” I smiled and held my right hand up, palm down for him. A smile touched his mouth as he slid the ring onto the middle finger.

I tilted my head back to look up at him. “We kicked Rhyzkahl’s ass, didn’t we?”

His eyes crinkled as his smile widened. “Yes. And well.” But his smile faded a heartbeat later. “Kara,” he said.

Exhaling, I grimaced. “I know. It got out of control,” I said quietly. “I couldn’t stop it. I almost—”

“Yes, but you did not,” he interrupted. “It is not typical for a summoner to channel such energies and was too much without experience or training.”

I thought about that for a moment. “I had something similar on Earth, I mean as far as the big wild energy.” My gaze went to the distant sea. “My car went into a river, and I couldn’t get out. Thought I was going to drown. Then I felt the river and
somehow
used it to bust my way out of the car. That big power saved my ass there, too, but I never actually had control over it to lose.”

A thoughtful look came into his eyes for an instant, but then he gave me a reassuring smile. “I will help you learn to accommodate the grove flows,” he said. “It will be a powerful tool in our arsenal against Rhyzkahl and those who stand with him.”

“He’s not going to give up,” I said. “We need to get the damn beacon set for Szerain’s blade.” I thought back again to that last time on the beach. The discordance. I hadn’t trusted myself or Mzatal enough to push through and set the resonance properly. “I know I can do it now.”

“Yes, of this I have no doubt,” he replied, expression showing nothing but utter faith in me. He paused with an air about him as though deciding whether or not to continue, then drew a deep breath. “When I had you stand before the statue of Elinor,” Mzatal said quietly, “when you sank so deeply into her memories, you know that I came within a heartbeat of killing you.” He paused while my
breath caught at the reminder of those moments of terror. “What would I have wrought had I slain you?” His expression briefly shadowed. “And what would have happened later had my focus not shifted to exploring your potential?”

“A world without me would suck, that’s for damn sure, and I’d be here haunting your ass,” I said with a touch of heat, but then shook my head. “Everything we do has consequences. Everything.” I looked up and met his gaze. “You had no right to do all the shit you did to me, but after going through what I’ve been through, and how we are now, I’m ready to live for this moment and the future.”

Mzatal exhaled, and his shoulders dropped a smidge as if a measure of tension unwound. “Everything has consequences,” he echoed, and I had the feeling the words touched far beyond the current topic. He shook his head as though to rid himself of whatever it was and gave me a smile.

“What made your focus shift?” I asked, watching his face for signs of anything he wasn’t speaking.

“With the Elinor memories, it was that you had the presence and will to extract yourself from them. Beyond that, I cannot tell you the precise instant, nor the trigger,” Mzatal said, closing his eyes and tipping his head back as though trying to recapture a distant moment. When he looked back to me, his expression held a measure of respect. “In a very short time, I came to know that you held a great love of life and possessed admirable tenacity. Both of these I acknowledged as highly desirable for a summoner, as well as useful for the retrieval of Vsuhl. But there was something…more.” He went quiet with brow furrowed, seeking words for the rest.

“I get it,” I said with a straight face. “You needed someone with devastating skills and mastery of the arcane in order to challenge Idris to move beyond the paltry efforts he’s shown thus far.”

Mzatal smiled. “This is a measure of your magic,” he said, eyes crinkling, “your ability to truly lift my spirits. It is a precious gift. And there was—is—a sense of potential beyond my known parameters. I did not, and do not, choose to lose it. Or you.”

I met his eyes with a serious gaze. “Mzatal, I promise you now that I will always be the person you can count on to bug the crap out of you and call you on your bullshit.”

“And I will hold you to that promise, Kara Gillian,” he said. Then, to my surprise, he let out a low laugh. “In reconsideration, perhaps I
do
know of two moments when I truly began to reassess everything about you.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him in question.

Smiling, he lifted his hand to his throat, middle finger extended. “When we were last at Szerain’s palace, after your injury, you touched the collar thus and said that you knew your place. I had no choice but to leave the room or laugh outright, completely dissolving my carefully maintained demeanor.”

I grinned. “And the other?”

“After I told you of Elinor’s energy signature. When you referred to it as,” his smile spread a bit wider, “‘Elinor’s magic kidney,’ again it was all I could do not to laugh.”

And here I’d thought he was a humorless fuck. “What can I say? I have a unique outlook.”

“One I would not trade for anything.”

I turned and leaned on the railing to look out at the sea. Distant clouds shrouded the horizon, and flying creatures swooped along the cliff edge. A breeze brought the taste of salt and warmth. Mzatal moved to stand next to me, hip grazing mine.

I flicked a glance his way. “So, when do we go back to finding this stupid knife?”

A hint of amusement curved his mouth. “Vsuhl is far more than a stupid knife.”

“I’m not going to call a knife by a name. Especially one as silly as ‘Vsuhl,’” I teased with a roll of my eyes, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Is there anything else you name?”

The amusement increased, and he raised an eyebrow right back at me. “I have names for many things. But to answer your question, we begin as soon as Idris prepares.” He shifted to drape an arm over my shoulders. “But for now, I wish to enjoy the view. And the company.”

Smiling, I slipped an arm around his waist and leaned in to him. “They’re both pretty damn nice.”

My favorite faas in the whole world crouched by the side of the bed with a mug of coffee cradled in his hands. I grinned and threw off the covers. “Oh, Jekki, if you weren’t already taken…”

Jekki tilted his head and gave me a confused burble. “Don’t mind me,” I said with a laugh as I pulled on a robe. “I’m punchy because I actually got a full night’s sleep. And here you are with coffee, ready and waiting!” The last couple of weeks had been psycho busy with training and ritual preparation, but thanks to a progress-halting snag yesterday, I had the luxury of much needed sleep. Okay, it kinda sucked that we’d run into a snag, but, damn, I actually felt halfway rested.

I glanced through the doorway to see Mzatal still sitting at the table in the outer chamber tracing sigils and making notes—exactly where he’d been when I went to bed. I snorted. “Let me guess. He’s been there all night and hasn’t eaten since, what, yesterday morning? The day before?”

“Ate bits, some, morning two days,” Jekki said, holding the coffee out to me.

I took the mug and sipped, then exhaled in pleasure. Jekki knew how to stay on my good side. “Right. Could you please bring a plate of fruit, some cheese, and a fresh jug of tunjen for him?” I asked. As Jekki turned to go, I added, “And a bowl of that honey custard stuff he likes.” If nothing else, maybe he’d eat that.

I followed the faas out into the main chamber. Mzatal glanced toward me with a faint smile as I set my coffee on
the table and moved behind him, but then immediately returned his focus to the sigil before him.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and began to massage the tight muscles. “Take a break, Boss.”

Mzatal set the sigil spinning, then let out an exasperated sigh. “I still cannot determine the sequitur of this final series for the beacon, and we
cannot
proceed without it. All else is complete.” He scrubbed his hand over his face in a very rare gesture of frustration.

“Yeah, well, take a break and maybe it’ll come to you,” I said, continuing with the massage. “You sure as hell won’t figure it out when you’re tense and hungry and cranky.”

He exhaled a that-hurts-but-don’t-stop breath and dropped his head back to look up at me. “Tense, admittedly. Hungry, undeniably.” His expression turned doubtful with a hint of a smile. “Perhaps methodical, calculating, and focused. But cranky?”

I laughed. “Well, I rescind the cranky label for now, but only if you rest and eat,” I said. “I know you’re a big bad lord, but you still need food every once in a while.” I dug my thumbs into knotted muscles. “Cripes. How long have you been sitting here?”

“Since we concluded last night,” Mzatal said. He looked back to the floating sigil, dissipated it with a violent sweep of his arm, then sighed. “I should send for food.”

“Way ahead of you.” I smiled as Jekki and Faruk hopped in with a tray and jug. I gave his shoulders a final squeeze, then helped the two faas get the food onto the table. “Eat.”

Mzatal gestured toward my mug as he poured tunjen for himself. “And what of you? You have only had coffee again,” he noted.

“Coffee is the food of the gods,” I retorted as I snagged some cheese and a couple of grape-things.

“You do much enjoy it,” he said, selecting slices of fruit for his plate. “It is ubiquitous to Earth, yes?”

Taking a sip, I nodded. “It’s a huge industry, and there are shops devoted to little more than the sale of coffee in a variety of forms.” I let out a dreamy sigh. “Heaven.”

“It was relatively new to your world at the time of the cataclysm,” he said, “with only a century or so of any significant distribution. Once the ways opened again, I had not
considered it until I noted your obsession, then discovered its use to be widespread.”

“It’s not an obsession,” I said, grinning. “It’s an addiction. Get it right.”

Mzatal smiled. “Obsession with an addiction.” He reached over the cheese for the custard. “My favorite,” he said, raising the bowl slightly to me. “Dak lahn.”

I returned the smile, glad to see him eating. “I know.”

He lifted his eyes to mine, held the gaze for a moment. A sense of true appreciation came through to me before he started on the custard. “Idris has completed his work and now awaits me.” He shook his head. “I am no nearer a solution than I was last night.”

“Still on the final series for the beacon?”

He nodded. “The last three sigils are inharmonious, and I have yet to determine the cause.”

“Can’t you take a day and do something else, give your mind a break?” I asked. “You could come out and harass me by the column. I’m
soooo
close to finishing the damned first ring of the shikvihr.”

“It is likely you would were we to devote the day to it,” he said with an approving nod, then grimaced. “But time is short. If the beacon is not set within the next two days, we will be delayed another month, and that is unacceptable. All else is ready except this last series.”