Legacy of the Demon

by Diana Rowland

  “Ilana is at the southern pole with the anomaly, and all others are on patrol,” Kehlirik said. “I watch here. Mzatal’s realm is well protected by arcane means, but he is away, and the Jontari are relentless.”

  “I am grateful for your service, honored one,” I said. “I will see you again when we leave.”

  Kehlirik gave a soft whistle of acknowledgement and took flight, buffeting us with his powerful upstroke.

  “Let’s get this done so we can go home,” I said to the others.

  We continued through the open doorway of the palace and stopped in the central atrium. With all the windows gone, the floors abruptly ended in open space eighty stories above the rocky sea shore. Not a place to be wandering around at night without a flashlight. “Turek, Giovanni, and Michael. I need you to stay here, please.”

  “I’ll guard,” Michael said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Good deal,” I said with a smile. “Make sure no one gets too close to the edge. Turek, could I speak to you for a moment?” The demon dipped his head in assent, and we stepped away from the others. “Rhyzkahl gave me a description of the gimkrah, but I don’t trust him. Do you know what it looks like?”

  Turek let out a low hiss. “A transparent sphere with a nucleus of pulsing crimson, caged with bands of makkas.”

  Huh. Rhyzkahl hadn’t lied—about that much, at least. “Thanks. Pellini and I will be back soon.”

  “Kara Gilliannnn!”

  A faas streaked across the room to excitedly twine around and through my legs like an oversized meth-crazed cat, sending us both into a chaotic tumble of limbs and blue fur.

  “Jekki!” I squeezed him in a hug as he snuffled my face in greeting. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Kehlirik told me all the demons were gone.”

  Jekki snapped upright, quivering in outrage. “Dahn dahn dahn! Protect allllll inside. Tend Mzatal. Tend Janice Massi!”

  Grinning, I clambered to my feet. “She’s very lucky to have you taking care of her, but I bet she’s ready to get home.” Even though Earth was a mess, I doubted the demon realm held fond memories for her.

  Jekki cocked his head. “Is home here!”

  “And a lovely home it is,” I said with a serious nod. “Can you take us to her?”

  Chittering happily, Jekki sped down the broad spiral staircase, while Pellini and I followed at a more reasonable pace. I expected Jekki to stop on the next floor, since that’s where the guest rooms were, but to my surprise the faas descended one more level.

  “That’s odd,” I said as Jekki darted down the corridor. “The practice summoning chamber is on this floor.”

  Pellini gave me a sharp look. “Why would Mzatal have her here? Unless she’s a summoner?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering.” I cleared my throat. “Hey, Jekki?” I waited for the faas to race back to us. “Is Janice a summoner?”

  His sinuous tail thrashed. “No summon!”

  “Okay, can she use the arcane?”

  “Dahn, no sigils! No arcane! Other skills!” With that he turned on his tail and dashed to the broad doors of the practice chamber.

  Pellini snorted. “Yeah, I’ll bet she has other skills.”

  I elbowed him in the side. “Hush.”

  He chuckled under his breath. “You were thinking it, too.”

  “Shut up.” For good measure, I elbowed him again. Didn’t help that he was right.

  Bouncing eagerly, Jekki pulled the door open. Beyond him, a dark-haired woman crouched near the center of the room, head bent in obvious concentration as she tightened a screw on a contraption of wood and wires.

  As I stepped in, she straightened and turned to face me with narrowed eyes. Her ethnicity seemed to be a mix of middle-eastern and African, but where I’d been expecting a stunning young beauty of some variety—or at least a lush body—this woman was nothing of the sort. Not only was she easily in her late forties, she looked, well, ordinary. Normal. She wasn’t unattractive, yet she didn’t quite make it to pretty. And her figure was average as well. Not particularly buxom or slender or even curvy. She was the kind of woman I saw a hundred times a day. Not at all the physical type I imagined would be hand-picked for sex trafficking to the demon realm.

  “Janice?” I asked, just to be sure.

  “Yes, I’m Janice Massi.” Her wary gaze flicked to Pellini then returned to me.

  “I’m Kara Gillian, and this is—”

  “I know who you are.” Her tone held zero friendliness.

  I kept the smile on my face. I completely understood donning prickly armor as a means to cope with trauma. She’d probably heard of me through Rhyzkahl or Mzatal. “Then that saves us from a boring round of introductions. Anyway, we’re here to take you back to Earth.” I winced. “If you want, that is. Things are pretty hairy back there.”

  Janice glanced at her contraption then turned that penetrating gaze on me again. “Rhyzkahl.” She lifted her chin, expression fierce. “He’s with you on Earth?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry. You won’t have to see him.”

  “I will see him,” she said, voice intense.

  “Fair enough.” At least he hadn’t broken her spirit. She deserved the chance to give him a piece of her mind if she wanted—and I’d sure as hell grab any chance to eavesdrop on that particular exchange. “We’ll be leaving soon,” I said. “Hopefully, no longer than an hour.”

  “I’ll be ready,” she snapped then stalked to the door, bumping my shoulder with hers on the way out.

  Pellini and I watched her go.

  “She’s going to need a lot of therapy,” I said with a sigh.

  “With any luck it’ll be right after she rips Rhyzkahl’s balls off,” Pellini muttered.

  “Can’t say I’d blame her if she did.” I crouched before Jekki and did my best imitation of a faas chitter-click to get his full attention. “Jekki, this is really important. Do you know where Mzatal keeps the master gimkrah?”

  He cocked his head. “Dahn. Secret for Mzatal. Mzatal keep safe!”

  “Thanks, Jekki,” I said with a pained smile. “Good to know it’s nice and safe.” Jekki was utterly loyal, damn it. Any attempt to wheedle, cajole, or force one of Mzatal’s secrets out of him would be a waste of time and breath. I scritched the top of his head and straightened.

  “At least it’s not gone,” Pellini said. His expression turned puzzled as he examined Janice’s contraption. “Is this a seismograph?”

  “Huh?” I moved closer to peer at it. A flat base supported an upright piece of wood, from which jutted another, longer arm of wood. A pen at the end of the arm drew a wavy line on a roll of paper, and closer inspection revealed a clever little bit of arcane that unwound the roll at a slow and steady rate. The whole thing was about the size of a carry-on suitcase. “I think you’re right.” I reached toward the paper then yanked my hand back at Jekki’s screech.

  “No touch!” The tip of his tail vibrated. “Janice Massi every day watches! Much every day! Watches all!”

  “All what?” I asked.

  “All!” He waggled his four hands at the device. “All ga-jits! All places!”

  “Gadgets? What are they for?”

  “To seeeeeeee moves.” With that, Jekki zipped off, apparently confident that he’d explained sufficiently.

  Pellini let out a low whistle. “It is a seismograph.”

  “Go figure. We can find out what the deal is from Janice.” I grimaced. “If she’ll even talk to me. At least I know where Elinor’s journal is. Let’s get that out of the way, then we can tackle the gimkrah problem.”

  We made our way upstairs to the hazy arcane veil that marked the arch entrance to Mzatal’s personal floor.

  Pellini shook his head. “I should probably wait downstairs while you look for the stuff,” he said, turning to head back the way we came. “I can check
on Michael and the others, too.”

  “Are you kidding?” I stared at his retreating back. “No! It’ll take twice as long to search on my own. Plus, I’ll need your input if I run into anything arcane.” I sucked in a breath. “Crap! Pellini, wait! It’s Mzatal’s aversions. They’re affecting you.” This area was heavily warded, albeit “tuned” to allow me full access. I was so used to the veil and the wards that crawled over the arch that I hadn’t paid any attention to them.

  Pellini stopped then pivoted, face set in a grimace of willpower as he made his way back to me. “Wonderful,” he grumbled. “Even if I could push past the aversions, I’d get zapped hard.”

  “Killed,” I corrected. “So, not the best plan. But it’s cool. I have ‘admin access’ and can alter the wards enough to get you in . . . Shit.” My throat tightened. “Except I can’t manipulate the arcane.” I was worlds away from the super-shikvihr on my home nexus, which meant I couldn’t tap into the potency. And since these wards were attuned to me, Pellini couldn’t act as my proxy.

  “Damn,” Pellini said with a sigh. “This’ll really slow us down. Sorry, Kara.”

  The wards shimmered, bright and tantalizing. It was so stupid and frustrating. I could see exactly what needed to be done, which loops to adjust, what aspects to shift, where to add Pellini’s resonance.

  The coil of an aversion twitched. “Hang on,” I said. It might have been coincidence or . . .

  I envisioned a change in the outer loop of the aversion ward then reached, physically and mentally.

  The loop shifted.

  “Holy shit!” Pulse thrumming, I tried again. The loop bent to my will and reshaped into the new configuration. A cry of pure joy escaped me.

  Beside me, Pellini gave a fist pump. “Fuck yeah, Kara! You show that ward who’s boss!”

  Laughing, I dashed tears from my eyes and continued to restructure the wards. I had no doubt the demon realm potency gave me a boost, but there was more to it than that. The nexus and the super-shikvihr and Pellini had all been vital to my recovery process, but perhaps I’d become too dependent on them.

  I finished the adjustments then added the sigil that integrated Pellini’s resonance.

  “You did it!” His whoop echoed up and down the stairs. I staggered as he pounded me on the back then yelped when he lifted me in a giant bear hug.

  “Erp,” I croaked.

  Grinning, he set me on my feet. “Always knew you’d get it back.”

  He meant it, I realized. He’d never once wavered in his faith in me. I sniffled and gave him a watery smile. “Thanks. Now let’s find the stuff.”

  We proceeded through the arch and into the corridor—without any zaps to Pellini. Here on the top floor, the damage was most evident. A foot-wide crack ran the length of the basalt corridor that had once been covered in sumptuous blue carpet. Thick timber beams reinforced with potency shored up the ceiling, and all traces of home and comfort had been stripped.

  But I couldn’t let emotion overcome our mission. Chest tight, I led Pellini to the solarium. It had become an oversized open air balcony, with nothing but sky at the ragged outer edge.

  Pellini gulped and stuck close to the back wall. “Jesus Christ. I’m not usually afraid of heights, but this is fucking unnerving.”

  “I loved this room.” My voice quavered. “I wish you could have seen it before all the glass was destroyed.” Grief squeezed at my heart. Mzatal had loved it, too—the spaciousness of the glass ceiling and wall, and the . . .

  A wry laugh escaped me. “Oh man,” I said. “I just realized that Mzatal would love how it is now.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack. He hates to be enclosed. This,” I spread my arms to indicate the extra-airy floor plan, “would be right up his alley.” I couldn’t count the number of times I’d walked in to find him with the glass wall open to the elements, or out on the balcony—as if his essence was too powerful to be contained. I moved to within a couple of meters from the drop-off, where arcane reinforcements and shielding glimmered. “He has it warded so you can’t fall off, even if you try.” A tremor rumbled through the palace and shook the cliff. I retreated, quickly, from the edge. “But let’s not push our luck.”

  Pellini shuddered. “I’m with you there. You said the journal’s in a black enamel chest?”

  “That’s what Mzatal told me.” I knew which chest he meant, but it wasn’t in its usual spot. I had a moment of panic that it had tumbled over the edge and into the sea then spied it shoved into a corner behind a cabinet and piled chairs.

  Pellini helped me pull the furniture out of the way. Sigils danced over the shiny black surface of the chest, but I had my confidence back now, and it took me less than a minute to deactivate the protections.

  The drawer whispered open beneath my touch to reveal a journal bound in indigo leather embossed with the purple flowers I called demon roses. Familiarity whispered through me as I lifted it.

  The heady fragrance fills my senses. I stretch in the tangled sheets.

  Lord Rhyzkahl props on his elbow beside me. “Another bloom for you, dear one.”

  Petals caress my cheek, raise gooseflesh as he draws the rose down my throat, between my breasts. He lowers his head to kiss me. I bury my hands in the fine silk of his hair even as he buries himself in me.

  The journal tingled in my grasp. Elinor’s memory, but I had lived it. Even now I felt the velvet touch of the flower like the breath of a ghost, the ripple of his muscles, the sensation of him filling me. I remained still and allowed her experience to unfold.

  I writhe in pleasure, lost. Gasp for breath. Cry out as I pulse around him.

  He wraps me in his arms, presses deep, groans.

  We lie entwined, his hair covering us like a veil.

  He murmurs in my ear. “Tah zhar lahn, zharkat.”

  Cold fills my belly, and I bury my face against his neck. “Forgive me, my lord. I . . .”

  He cradles my head, silent.

  My heart flutters like a caged bird.

  He kisses my forehead. Disentangles. “I will make the arrangements you desire.”

  Then he is gone.

  In his place, amaranthine petals lie crushed upon the sheet.

  The memory faded, and I drew a slow steadying breath. Rhyzkahl had loved her. And he’d let her go. The arrangements had been for her to reside at Szerain’s where her art could flourish and where her new friend Giovanni lived. Rhyzkahl could have kept her. She knew it. “But he didn’t,” I murmured.

  “Who didn’t what?” Pellini asked.

  “Oh. Nothing. Sorry.” I used the feel of the journal in my hands to shake off the spell of the memory. “This is the right journal.”

  Wards shimmered over its cover—not only to protect it from the ravages of time, but also to discourage prying eyes. Yet the protections were far too elegant and sophisticated for Elinor to have placed them. Plus, I had admin access to these, just like all the other wards here. Mzatal’s work. Interesting and puzzling that he would bother to ward it.

  I slipped the volume into a thigh pocket of my fatigues. “All right, let’s find the gimkrah. Makes sense that it would be up on this level, in his rooms.”

  Pellini nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to let you search through Mzatal’s skivvies.”

  I gave him a bland look. “What skivvies?”

  He groaned. “Okay, I did not need to know that the badass demonic lord goes commando.”

  Laughing, I began my gimkrah-hunt. Yet a thorough search of the solarium and Mzatal’s rooms turned up absolutely nothing. Frustrated, I went through the plexus then back downstairs to the summoning chamber, finally returning upstairs to go through his rooms one more time.

  No gimkrah.

  Now what?

  Chapter 28

  At a loss, I sent Pellini downst
airs to confer with Turek while I retreated to the rooftop terrace to consider my options.

  Though the terrace itself remained intact, the parapet was gone, and no warding had been added to prevent an inadvertent plunge. There was no trace of the glass conservatory or potted plants, and the area had been swept clear of debris. I felt as if I was standing on a giant’s table under the open sky.

  To the west, the sea sparkled in the late afternoon sun, giving the illusion that all was right with the world. I eased to the terrace edge and peered over. Far below, waves rolled onto the tumbled basalt and black sand of the beach, nearly reaching the stone circle of Mzatal’s nexus. I moved to the opposite edge and surveyed the forested hills to the east. For a mile, the trees were vibrant, safe within Mzatal’s protections. Beyond that, a patchwork of unhealthy green and ashy black marked the ravages of fire, storms, and other unknown cataclysmic hazards.

  Below, a shadow coiled and uncoiled at the base of the basalt training column. A demon—one of the ilius who kept company with Mzatal, though I couldn’t tell which. From this height, the flat top of the column was clearly visible: dark grey stone surrounding a circle of utter blackness.

  My stomach flip-flopped. I’d only been to the top once, but that was enough to last a lifetime. After I’d crawled my ass off the column, Mzatal told me that the dark core could consume the resolve of even the most stalwart, and hoo boy did I ever believe him. That inky nothingness hungered for life force. Being absurdly stingy, I preferred to keep my essence all to myself.

  Too bad I’d eventually have to test my resolve again. The final trial for the full eleven-ring shikvihr required that it be danced around that life-sucking hole. Even though I told myself today wasn’t that day, cold sweat still trickled down my sides.

  I dragged my gaze away from the column and shook off its unsettling feel. Great, I’d successfully checked out the view from the roof. Why had I bothered to come up here? It wasn’t as if admiring the scenery was going to find the stupid gimkrah. “Damn it, Mzatal,” I muttered. “Where did you hide it?”

  For the thousandth time, I mulled over the clue Giovanni found. The gimkrah lies in wait, surrounded by emptiness, deep in the heart of darkness. I’d originally assumed that the emptiness and heart of darkness were metaphorical references to Mzatal, but what if I’d gone completely off the rails and the clue really did describe the location? Then again, it was possible whoever wrote that passage hadn’t known shit or, even if they had, their info was obsolete by now. Maybe it had never been meant to be a clue at all and was simply a poetic attempt to capture both the literal and the figurative.