Touch of the Demon
Page 76
His eyes swept over the diagram in a similar assessment. Straightening his shoulders, he nodded, his mega-focus settling over him like a cloak as he positioned himself opposite me. Now we needed Mzatal.
I headed over to where the lord sat on the sand, back to us, staring out at the sunset. “Boss? We’re ready,” I said, touching his shoulder.
Mzatal flinched and staggered to his feet. Damn. Though deeply concerned, I took hold of his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. His face was ashen and hand loose in mine. Definitely not the Mzatal I knew. “It’s all ready for you,” I said. “We’ll get him back. Don’t worry.”
A glance at Idris told me he didn’t like the looks of this any more than I did. Something had to shift and now. I hesitated. I had a clever plan in mind to jar him out of his funk. Only tiny drawback was that it could easily end with me squished. Then again, if Mzatal couldn’t snap out of this, I might as well be squished.
I drew a deep breath, hoping it wasn’t my last, turned fully to Mzatal and slapped him hard across the face.
The lord took a stagger-step back and lifted his right hand. Shit! I thought with a cringe, then exhaled in relief as he traced a pygah and inhaled in one fluid motion. He looked at me, still shocky-looking but more focused.
“I am here,” he said, voice quiet and raspy.
I took his hand again, squeezed. “Good. Let’s get Gestamar.”
Mzatal assessed the pattern and added his sigils, with less fluidity than usual, but solid and potent. He ignited the diagram and gave me a grim nod.
Idris and I worked quickly through the forms and readied the conduit. With caution, I extended, focused, and made the contact touch.
I maintained my focus, yet didn’t open the portal. I sensed the reyza, but I didn’t make the pull, simply maintained the touch for now. If there were other summoners present on the other end I didn’t want to alert them. A tug of war with Gestamar in the middle would end badly for all involved.
“Idris,” I murmured. “Can you tell if and how he’s bound?”
“Gimme a sec,” he muttered, and I realized he was already focusing down the channel. I held it as motionless as possible. The ideal scenario would be that Gestamar wasn’t bound or warded in any way, but I knew damn well the chances of that were between zilch and none, especially considering the circumstances.
I watched as Idris skillfully maneuvered the summoning strands and twitched the gossamer thread he’d linked in as Gestamar was taken. Clever. I realized that he’d likely gotten a lot of practice at doing this sort of thing, not only during his many attempts to summon me from Earth, but also when he and Mzatal sought me at Rhyzkahl’s. I smiled despite the gravity of the situation.
Mzatal shifted then went still, eyes faraway in what I knew was an extension to Gestamar.
“Mzatal?” I asked quietly, maintaining a steady hold on the ritual. “What do you feel?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing. “Pain…arcane bindings.” His eyes flew open, and he bared his teeth in the most overt display of anger I’d ever seen on him. “Kara, Idris, we must reach him. Must.”
“That’s what we’re doing,” I said, automatically slipping into my calm cop-handling-a-crisis mode. “Can you do something with the bindings?”
Calming somewhat, Mzatal went to one knee and laid a hand on the perimeter of the pattern. Its resonance deepened as he carefully strengthened and fed it. Idris continued to follow the strands to their terminus, abruptly going still as a statue, barely even breathing.
“One of them is with him now,” Idris said in such a soft exhalation I would never have heard him had we not all been connected in the ritual.
“Tsuneo,” Mzatal said at a similarly low volume.
I nodded. “Okay. Idris, you maintain the watch, and you let me know the instant they leave him alone. Mzatal, you get ready to slip bindings. We’re going to play a waiting game and we’re going to win it.”
Idris breathed a low curse. “I don’t think we can wait. There’s movement.” A frown tugged at his mouth.
“Another ritual,” Mzatal said, eyes unfocused. “Idris, can you discern its purpose?”
“No,” he replied. “Gestamar is in Katashi’s summoning chamber, but the other ritual is in the adjoining room.” He paused. “Tsuneo is still with Gestamar.”
Crap. So much for waiting for the most opportune moment. “Mzatal, how’s Gestamar doing? He needs to be calm and quiet, maybe even feign weakness.”
Pain flickered over the lord’s face. “Thrashing. I cannot quiet him. The bindings are draining him, and he is in agony.”
“If we wait any longer, it’s going to get ugly,” Idris said, worried expression deepening. Neither one pulled attention from their surveillance, but I could sense as clearly as if both stared at me, that they waited for my instructions. Considering the disruption in the essence bond, Mzatal was doing everything he could to stay focused. I had the most experience as a summoner. I was lead on this, and it was up to me to call the shots. It made sense, but it still felt weird as all hell.
“Fuckballs,” I muttered. “Okay. Plan B, folks, since we may not be able to wait for them to leave him alone. Any shift of focus off of him will do. Idris, you give the word and hold the conduit, Mzatal, you slip bindings, and we’ll yank his big ass out. With any luck at all we should be able to make it one perfectly coordinated movement, because we are awesome like that.”
Idris suddenly grimaced. “Shit, all three in the room now.”
Damn it! “Fine. Plan C it is. Fuck stealth. Mzatal, can you send any sort of strike through the conduit?”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “I can.”
“Good. On three then. Idris hold the damn conduit wide, and I’ll focus on the call. Mzatal, you zap and unbind, then we’ll pull. One, two, three!”
The word was barely out of my mouth when Mzatal unleashed power through the conduit. I damn near lost hold as part of it reflected back on me, but Idris managed to steady the strands.
“Now!” Mzatal shouted, and we puuuulled. The diagram shuddered, and then with a crack that shook the beach, Gestamar appeared sprawled and bleeding.
“Idris, seal it!” I shouted as I quickly anchored and watched for any attempt to follow the reyza. Together, Idris and I shut down the flows and dropped protections, allowing Mzatal to go to the stricken demon. Gestamar was alive, I could see that much. He was a mess, but he was back and in what appeared to be one piece.
“Mzatal?” I asked. “Is he okay?”
The lord dropped to one knee beside Gestamar, then looked back to me, relief swimming in his eyes. “Nothing permanent.” He looked up as Helori and Ilana joined him to crouch by the reyza. I blinked. Where the hell had they come from? Had they been here this whole time?
Idris and I finished shutting everything down and cleaned up residuals. After a few minutes the two syraza disappeared with Gestamar. I grinned over at Idris. “Dude, we kicked ass.”
He gave a whoop of delight in response.
“Recalling the blade will be a walk in the park after this.” I laughed as I said it, yet at the same time, I meant it. We’d worked superbly as a team. Even if Rhyzkahl showed up, we could handle him.
Still grinning, Idris loped over to the big rock to retrieve his shirt and boots. Mzatal sat cross-legged where Gestamar had lain, head lowered. I crouched beside him and slipped an arm around his shoulders.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I am tired,” he said without lifting his head, and for an instant I had the impression that he spoke of a fatigue that went far beyond the physical, a weight comprised of millennia of schemes and plans and plots. I had to resist a sudden weird urge to stroke his hair back from his face, which made no sense since it was still perfectly braided as always.
“C’mon, Boss,” I said, taking his hand. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Mzatal remained utterly still for another moment, then squeezed my hand and stood. “Were it all in your control, Kara Gillian, I would know that to be the truth.”
“I’m a tenacious bitch, remember?”
He began to smile, then abruptly straightened and turned fully to the beacon diagram, grip tightening on my hand.
My fatigue dropped away as excitement flared. “Did it find it? Is it working?”
He didn’t answer, barely even breathing as he kept his full focus on the beacon. A few seconds later the ritual flared, the sigils carved on the columns flickered to life with a faint blue glow, and a single clear tone sounded.
I sucked in a sharp breath as the tone seared through me, seeming to set every cell in my body alight. The sensation faded after a few seconds, though I still felt a bit strange, as if someone was watching me from the inside.
Idris came up beside me, face alight with wonder though he didn’t seem as flattened by the tone as I was. Then again, I was the focus, the one who’d be calling the blade. Made sense that it would hit me the hardest.
Mzatal released my hand and draped his arm over my shoulder. “Rhyzkahl knows now.”
I nodded. Mzatal had warned us earlier that the beacon would be impossible to hide. “When do we go?”
“Tomorrow. We will arrive at Szerain’s palace at dawn.”
I smiled. “Does this mean I can take a bath tonight and sleep in a real bed?”
He dropped his gaze to me, gave me a smile haunted by concern for Gestamar and possibly more. “Yes. We both need—” He took a deep breath. “Yes. Bath and rest for you.”
“You need to sleep too,” I said with a glare, though I had to admit, he already looked way better than while Gestamar was gone. “Make tonight your weekly nap.” I swept my gaze around, taking in the beacon ritual and the disturbed sand that was all that remained of the battle for Gestamar. “This is going to work. We’re a damn good team. I mean, look at what we just did. We kicked those asstards in the goddamn balls.”
I headed over to where the lord sat on the sand, back to us, staring out at the sunset. “Boss? We’re ready,” I said, touching his shoulder.
Mzatal flinched and staggered to his feet. Damn. Though deeply concerned, I took hold of his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. His face was ashen and hand loose in mine. Definitely not the Mzatal I knew. “It’s all ready for you,” I said. “We’ll get him back. Don’t worry.”
A glance at Idris told me he didn’t like the looks of this any more than I did. Something had to shift and now. I hesitated. I had a clever plan in mind to jar him out of his funk. Only tiny drawback was that it could easily end with me squished. Then again, if Mzatal couldn’t snap out of this, I might as well be squished.
I drew a deep breath, hoping it wasn’t my last, turned fully to Mzatal and slapped him hard across the face.
The lord took a stagger-step back and lifted his right hand. Shit! I thought with a cringe, then exhaled in relief as he traced a pygah and inhaled in one fluid motion. He looked at me, still shocky-looking but more focused.
“I am here,” he said, voice quiet and raspy.
I took his hand again, squeezed. “Good. Let’s get Gestamar.”
Mzatal assessed the pattern and added his sigils, with less fluidity than usual, but solid and potent. He ignited the diagram and gave me a grim nod.
Idris and I worked quickly through the forms and readied the conduit. With caution, I extended, focused, and made the contact touch.
I maintained my focus, yet didn’t open the portal. I sensed the reyza, but I didn’t make the pull, simply maintained the touch for now. If there were other summoners present on the other end I didn’t want to alert them. A tug of war with Gestamar in the middle would end badly for all involved.
“Idris,” I murmured. “Can you tell if and how he’s bound?”
“Gimme a sec,” he muttered, and I realized he was already focusing down the channel. I held it as motionless as possible. The ideal scenario would be that Gestamar wasn’t bound or warded in any way, but I knew damn well the chances of that were between zilch and none, especially considering the circumstances.
I watched as Idris skillfully maneuvered the summoning strands and twitched the gossamer thread he’d linked in as Gestamar was taken. Clever. I realized that he’d likely gotten a lot of practice at doing this sort of thing, not only during his many attempts to summon me from Earth, but also when he and Mzatal sought me at Rhyzkahl’s. I smiled despite the gravity of the situation.
Mzatal shifted then went still, eyes faraway in what I knew was an extension to Gestamar.
“Mzatal?” I asked quietly, maintaining a steady hold on the ritual. “What do you feel?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing. “Pain…arcane bindings.” His eyes flew open, and he bared his teeth in the most overt display of anger I’d ever seen on him. “Kara, Idris, we must reach him. Must.”
“That’s what we’re doing,” I said, automatically slipping into my calm cop-handling-a-crisis mode. “Can you do something with the bindings?”
Calming somewhat, Mzatal went to one knee and laid a hand on the perimeter of the pattern. Its resonance deepened as he carefully strengthened and fed it. Idris continued to follow the strands to their terminus, abruptly going still as a statue, barely even breathing.
“One of them is with him now,” Idris said in such a soft exhalation I would never have heard him had we not all been connected in the ritual.
“Tsuneo,” Mzatal said at a similarly low volume.
I nodded. “Okay. Idris, you maintain the watch, and you let me know the instant they leave him alone. Mzatal, you get ready to slip bindings. We’re going to play a waiting game and we’re going to win it.”
Idris breathed a low curse. “I don’t think we can wait. There’s movement.” A frown tugged at his mouth.
“Another ritual,” Mzatal said, eyes unfocused. “Idris, can you discern its purpose?”
“No,” he replied. “Gestamar is in Katashi’s summoning chamber, but the other ritual is in the adjoining room.” He paused. “Tsuneo is still with Gestamar.”
Crap. So much for waiting for the most opportune moment. “Mzatal, how’s Gestamar doing? He needs to be calm and quiet, maybe even feign weakness.”
Pain flickered over the lord’s face. “Thrashing. I cannot quiet him. The bindings are draining him, and he is in agony.”
“If we wait any longer, it’s going to get ugly,” Idris said, worried expression deepening. Neither one pulled attention from their surveillance, but I could sense as clearly as if both stared at me, that they waited for my instructions. Considering the disruption in the essence bond, Mzatal was doing everything he could to stay focused. I had the most experience as a summoner. I was lead on this, and it was up to me to call the shots. It made sense, but it still felt weird as all hell.
“Fuckballs,” I muttered. “Okay. Plan B, folks, since we may not be able to wait for them to leave him alone. Any shift of focus off of him will do. Idris, you give the word and hold the conduit, Mzatal, you slip bindings, and we’ll yank his big ass out. With any luck at all we should be able to make it one perfectly coordinated movement, because we are awesome like that.”
Idris suddenly grimaced. “Shit, all three in the room now.”
Damn it! “Fine. Plan C it is. Fuck stealth. Mzatal, can you send any sort of strike through the conduit?”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “I can.”
“Good. On three then. Idris hold the damn conduit wide, and I’ll focus on the call. Mzatal, you zap and unbind, then we’ll pull. One, two, three!”
The word was barely out of my mouth when Mzatal unleashed power through the conduit. I damn near lost hold as part of it reflected back on me, but Idris managed to steady the strands.
“Now!” Mzatal shouted, and we puuuulled. The diagram shuddered, and then with a crack that shook the beach, Gestamar appeared sprawled and bleeding.
“Idris, seal it!” I shouted as I quickly anchored and watched for any attempt to follow the reyza. Together, Idris and I shut down the flows and dropped protections, allowing Mzatal to go to the stricken demon. Gestamar was alive, I could see that much. He was a mess, but he was back and in what appeared to be one piece.
“Mzatal?” I asked. “Is he okay?”
The lord dropped to one knee beside Gestamar, then looked back to me, relief swimming in his eyes. “Nothing permanent.” He looked up as Helori and Ilana joined him to crouch by the reyza. I blinked. Where the hell had they come from? Had they been here this whole time?
Idris and I finished shutting everything down and cleaned up residuals. After a few minutes the two syraza disappeared with Gestamar. I grinned over at Idris. “Dude, we kicked ass.”
He gave a whoop of delight in response.
“Recalling the blade will be a walk in the park after this.” I laughed as I said it, yet at the same time, I meant it. We’d worked superbly as a team. Even if Rhyzkahl showed up, we could handle him.
Still grinning, Idris loped over to the big rock to retrieve his shirt and boots. Mzatal sat cross-legged where Gestamar had lain, head lowered. I crouched beside him and slipped an arm around his shoulders.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I am tired,” he said without lifting his head, and for an instant I had the impression that he spoke of a fatigue that went far beyond the physical, a weight comprised of millennia of schemes and plans and plots. I had to resist a sudden weird urge to stroke his hair back from his face, which made no sense since it was still perfectly braided as always.
“C’mon, Boss,” I said, taking his hand. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Mzatal remained utterly still for another moment, then squeezed my hand and stood. “Were it all in your control, Kara Gillian, I would know that to be the truth.”
“I’m a tenacious bitch, remember?”
He began to smile, then abruptly straightened and turned fully to the beacon diagram, grip tightening on my hand.
My fatigue dropped away as excitement flared. “Did it find it? Is it working?”
He didn’t answer, barely even breathing as he kept his full focus on the beacon. A few seconds later the ritual flared, the sigils carved on the columns flickered to life with a faint blue glow, and a single clear tone sounded.
I sucked in a sharp breath as the tone seared through me, seeming to set every cell in my body alight. The sensation faded after a few seconds, though I still felt a bit strange, as if someone was watching me from the inside.
Idris came up beside me, face alight with wonder though he didn’t seem as flattened by the tone as I was. Then again, I was the focus, the one who’d be calling the blade. Made sense that it would hit me the hardest.
Mzatal released my hand and draped his arm over my shoulder. “Rhyzkahl knows now.”
I nodded. Mzatal had warned us earlier that the beacon would be impossible to hide. “When do we go?”
“Tomorrow. We will arrive at Szerain’s palace at dawn.”
I smiled. “Does this mean I can take a bath tonight and sleep in a real bed?”
He dropped his gaze to me, gave me a smile haunted by concern for Gestamar and possibly more. “Yes. We both need—” He took a deep breath. “Yes. Bath and rest for you.”
“You need to sleep too,” I said with a glare, though I had to admit, he already looked way better than while Gestamar was gone. “Make tonight your weekly nap.” I swept my gaze around, taking in the beacon ritual and the disturbed sand that was all that remained of the battle for Gestamar. “This is going to work. We’re a damn good team. I mean, look at what we just did. We kicked those asstards in the goddamn balls.”
