Touch of the Demon kg-5

by Diana Rowland

  He lifted a silky eyebrow. “You, a summoner of some skill, had just come from Mzatal.” He stroked the back of his fingers over my cheek, a frown touching his mouth. “Until I made assessments, I could not risk even a single tracing from you, for the welfare of all who reside in my domain.”

  “Oh. Right.” It made perfect sense too, damn it, and annoyance curled through me that I hadn’t realized it. That sort of thing was standard procedure for any released hostage. Well, not the arcane assessment part, but the don’t-trust-them-until-they’re-checked-for-weapons-or traps part.

  “You sent him a demand,” I said. “What would you have done if I hadn’t escaped?”

  “I would have come for you, of course,” Rhyzkahl replied without hesitation. He lifted his bloody hand. “And was in final preparation to do so.”

  I didn’t know what that meant and, frankly, right then, didn’t care. A shiver raced over my skin. “I just want to go home.”

  “And you will as soon as it is possible,” he reassured me. “There is no summoner in my realm to accomplish it. I must confer with others about what method is most feasible.”

  “All right.” I let out a shaky sigh. “I’ve had an amazingly shitty couple of days. Are you going to keep me locked up in here?”

  “Here?” He stepped back and waved a hand dismissively toward the room. “No, you will be taken to chambers I have put at your disposal.”

  I dared to feel a sliver of relief. “Thanks.”

  “You need rest,” Rhyzkahl said, holding his hand out to the reyza without looking. “We can speak more on the morrow.” The reyza pressed something into Rhyzkahl’s hand, and a breath later the lord slipped the collar back around my neck and sealed it.

  I recoiled in shock. “Wait! Why are you putting this back on me?”

  “All is not secure yet,” he said in a soothing tone. “It must remain in place for now.”

  “For how long?” I asked in dismay.

  “Until it is safe to remove it.” His eyes were steady on mine. “Regrettably, it must chafe a time longer. Go and rest now. Pyrenth will escort you to your chambers.”

  I couldn’t even manage a smile for Rhyzkahl as he leaned in and kissed my forehead. He turned and departed, and as soon as he was gone, the reyza stepped to my side.

  “I am Pyrenth, and I greet you anew.”

  “I am Kara Gillian,” I replied numbly.

  He inclined his head. “Follow me, Kara Gillian, and I will take you to your resting place.”

  I did so, thoughts tumbling jaggedly as Rhyzkahl’s words settled upon me with crushing weight. Around me, the palace glimmered in white demon-marble, lofty of ceiling and accented with richly colored tapestries and furnishings. We entered a vast great hall with massive twin curving staircases on either side leading up to the next level. The floor contained an intricate mosaic of some sort of blue-gold polished stone that began in the center of the hall with a small and subtle pattern and spread out to the walls in more and more complex forms like a fractal. The walls seemed to be a simple rich blue at first, but as I moved the color very gradually shifted into varying hues of blue, silver, and gold. It rivaled Mzatal’s summoning foyer for the award of Most Fucking Impressive Room I’ve Ever Been In, though I wasn’t in the best mood to fully appreciate it.

  By the time we got to the top of the stairs, I was completely and utterly done with this day and with mortal danger and with intense, angry demonic lords. Fortunately for all concerned, before I could let loose with a verbal barrage or any other violence, Pyrenth guided me into what were obviously going to be my quarters.

  Well, it sure as hell isn’t a cell, I thought in stunned silence as Pyrenth gave me the nickel tour. I’d been allotted a luxurious set of rooms that were nicer than the penthouse in a five-star hotel. Not that I’d ever stayed in any room in a high-end hotel, much less the penthouse, but I’d watched enough movies to have a decent sense of what it would be like. Opulent main room with couch and fireplace, dining area bigger than my kitchen back home, enormous bedroom containing a massive bed and a wardrobe of dark red wood, a long balcony bounded by a stone parapet with a carved wooden rail on top, and a bath chamber with a tub damn near large enough to swim in.

  “The faas have brought a meal for you,” Pyrenth said with a gesture to the table as we returned to the main room, where there was enough food of sufficient variety to feed me for a week. At the sight and smell, my stomach woke up and not-so-gently reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything since…damn…since before we’d left Szerain’s palace. No wonder I was cranky.

  “There is clothing in the wardrobe in the bedchamber,” Pyrenth added. “If you require anything else simply touch the sigil by the door.”

  I managed a nod and a polite smile, and as soon as the reyza departed I fell upon the food with very unladylike gusto. As my hunger faded, my fatigue increased, but I continued to eat until I realized I was nodding off with my fork halfway to my mouth.

  Pushing away from the table, I gave an even more unladylike belch, then tottered into the bedchamber, kicked off my shoes, and barely made it under the covers before collapsing into sleep.

  Chapter 12

  The mug of chak in my hands steamed in the chill morning air as I stepped out onto the balcony. A chaise lounge upholstered in maroon velvet nestled against the wall, along with a small table of the same dark red wood as my wardrobe. Large stone pots in the corners of the balcony held trees at least ten feet tall with gracefully draping limbs and blue-green leaves as large as my hand. Smaller planters along the wall contained a variety of purple and yellow flowers of varying hues. A gentle scent drifted around me, like vanilla and roses, and I couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure at the entire effect, despite being weirded out by everything else going on.

  Wards and sigils flickered along the edge of the railing, and I cautiously extended my hand past them. Beyond the parapet frigid air touched my hand, which told me that at least some of the wards were there for climate control. My hand didn’t meet any resistance, so apparently none of the wards were meant to contain me. Then again, the three-story drop was probably sufficient for that purpose. I didn’t bother trying to get a better look at the wards. With the collar on it was too difficult to see any details, and I knew it would only leave me frustrated and annoyed.

  I gazed out toward the grove while I did my best to parse the uneasiness that plagued me. Smaller trees, leafless for winter, clustered around the white trunks of the grove which were crowned in vibrant green and purple leaves as though on a midsummer day. Little bat-bird things fluttered through the canopy, their cries melodically sharp. Craggy, snow-covered mountains rose close beyond—steep and austere, with a beauty of their own, and distinctly different from Mzatal’s green realm. To the right, cliffs fell away to a turquoise sea.

  I wasn’t a prisoner. At least I didn’t seem to be one. Not only were my rooms beyond awesome, there’d been enough clothing ready and waiting for me in the large wardrobe—including the fluffy robe and slippers I had on now—to lend plenty of credence to Rhyzkahl’s claim that he’d fully expected to retrieve me.

  Yet I still had this fucking collar on.

  Maybe my problem was that too much had happened too fast? I’d been in the demon realm for less than three full days, and I’d spent most of that time in a constant state of stress and fear—when I wasn’t injured, passed out, or asleep, that is. I haven’t had a moment to think, I realized. And even here, where I’d thought I’d be safe, I remained unsettled.

  I knew it was the right decision to escape, to come here. It was pretty obvious I needed to get the hell away from Mzatal, and besides, where else would I go? This was an alien world, likely teeming with all sorts of unknown perils. Going anywhere else would be complete and utter stupidity. And I was Rhyzkahl’s sworn summoner. This was the most logical place to seek help and sanctuary. Yet, as much as I understood the reasoning behind the way Rhyzkahl treated me last night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something
felt off. Then again, I also accepted that my entire state of mind these past few days was pretty much a mess. I didn’t know what the hell to feel or believe anymore.

  I need some time to think. That’s all. In a perfect world I could go spend a few quiet hours in the middle of nowhere with no one around—no humans, no demons, no lords—where I could think about everything that had happened without any fear of distraction, or worry, or concern that a lord was reading my thoughts. So far the only advantage of this damn collar was that it seemed to diminish these lords’ ability to read me, but that was a nebulous blessing at best.

  The pale morning sun slanted through the brilliant colors of the grove, and a light wind stirred the trees to a soft murmur that seemed to speak a message meant only for me. A sensation of comfort and ease crept through me as I watched the mesmerizing flow of leaves.

  Light. Air. Spaciousness. Peace. Deep peace.

  I took a sip of the chak, surprised to find that it was cold. My bafflement increased when I realized that the sun had shifted position considerably. Apparently I’d been standing out on the balcony for a couple of hours while I contemplated the grove. So much for my plan of considering my options.

  Musing on that, I finished off the cold contents of my mug and returned inside. Nearly midday now, and Rhyzkahl still hadn’t come to see me. Not that I was pining for him or anything, but it added to the overall feel of weirdness. Still, I was fully able to accept that I was neurotic enough and paranoid enough—especially now—to be blowing his absence way out of proportion. Maybe he was simply enjoying a leisurely breakfast, or working out, or sipping chak over the crossword puzzle in the demon realm newspaper. I grinned at the mental image. What’s a six letter word for ‘reyza dung’?

  After a quick bath, I searched through the available clothing and scrounged up a long-sleeved shirt in a purple so rich I could hardly believe it was real and pants that were a lot like jeans but of a softer, somewhat thicker material than denim. I added a hip-length jacket, a light scarf, and knee-high boots, then checked myself out in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. I grinned. Yep, I was as overdressed for the cold as any southerner had a right to be.

  I exited my rooms and saw a reyza crouched in the corridor tracing wards and sending them off to places along the hall. He turned his head to me as I exited and bared his teeth in a smile.

  “Kehlirik!” I nearly squealed, barely restraining myself from leaping on him and giving him a big hug. I really wasn’t sure how he’d react to that, even though it was a weird and huge relief to see a familiar face—even a demon one.

  He gave a rumble-snort. “Kara Gillian.”

  “It’s really good to see you,” I said fervently. “I was going to take a walk outside. Are you, um, assigned to me?”

  He stood, stretched his wings out before settling them again. “Kri…yes. Your escort.” He began to walk down the corridor. “Outside is this way.”

  Well, at least he wasn’t calling himself my guard. I fell into step beside him. “I owe you popcorn. I haven’t forgotten.”

  “You may rest assured, summoner, I will not allow you to forget.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure you won’t. And when I get back home I’ll have to summon you so that you can see a TV show a friend turned me on to.”

  Kehlirik gave a heavy snort. “I am not certain of the wisdom of engaging in this tee vee practice.”

  “Yeah, it totally rots the brain.” Then I gave him a sly grin. “I won’t make you watch reality TV, but did you know the Harry Potter books have been made into movies?”

  That got his attention. He peered at me with interest as we descended the big-ass stairs to the entry area and to the doors leading outside. “That, perhaps, is worth the sacrifice of wisdom.”

  It wasn’t until I got outside and away from the building that I could appreciate the massive grandeur of Rhyzkahl’s palace. All that I could see before me, I had seen from my balcony—the surrounding craggy mountains, patches of trees in the grove, the turquoise sea beyond the cliffs—but not the palace itself. Turning, I stared in awe, craning my neck to see its heights. Opulent, imposing, and magnificent, it rose in a symphony of white stone, spires, arched windows, and towers framed by deep blue sky veiled thinly with wisps of winter clouds.

  Okay, I thought. That’s a damn nice crib he’s got there. Smiling, I continued to walk with Kehlirik and found myself discussing books and television as I headed down the path. Occasionally, he would pause and point out some feature of the gardens or architecture that he thought I might find interesting: a silvery-leafed tree he claimed was over five hundred years old, a stone arch carved in such delicate filigree I was stunned that it could support its own weight, a translucent boulder the size of my car with ribbons of an amber-colored mineral running through it.

  I was mid-sentence when a tone rippled through me, touching my ears and my bones in an oddly pleasant way. I stopped walking, stopped talking, and looked over at Kehlirik. “What the hell was that?”

  The reyza rumbled, then rumbled some more, obviously finding whatever it was highly amusing. “Tones to mark the time. Midday, that was,” he said, snorting. “There will also be mid-afternoon, evening, morning, and mid-morning, though only humans need such.” He lifted his chin in what looked a lot like pride. “Demons have no need of external reminders.”

  I considered that. “So, is it a real clock or a magic clock?” I asked, grinning.

  “Can it not be both?” he asked.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but a zrila darted up to us and stood on its hind legs. A creature the size of a bobcat, it looked like a six-legged newt with skin that shifted in hues of red and blue, although its head was more like that of a hairless koala. It peered at me and gave a series of whistles.

  “It wishes to measure you,” Kehlirik told me.

  “Oh! Sure.” Mzatal had said something about how a zrila had made his tie, hadn’t he? “They make clothing?”

  “The zrila are master textile artisans.” His eyes flicked over my current garb. “All of what you wear now was created in a zrila circle.”

  I blinked in surprise. I’d always assumed that the zrila had fairly low intelligence. “That’s pretty awesome. So, uh, what do I have to do to be measured?”

  Kehlirik took a step away from me. “Stand still and extend your arms out to your sides.”

  I did so, then jerked in shock as the zrila leaped up to my shoulder. I began to drop my arms, and the zrila let out a sharp whistle that very clearly meant, “put those arms back out, missy!” I quickly snapped them back out and held them as the zrila proceeded to…well, run all over me, from head to toe, winding around my torso and arms and legs and back up again to my shoulder. The whole process took about five seconds, and then it leaped off and was out of sight within about a heartbeat.

  I lowered my arms. “Um, that was it?”

  Kehlirik gave a snort of what was obviously amusement. “You have now been measured.”

  Amused and more than a little amazed, I continued walking. Clouds scuttled across the sky as the breeze picked up. I tucked my scarf around my neck, glad that I’d overdressed. Sometimes being a wimpy southerner paid off.

  The path forked. I started down the one that headed toward the grove, but Kehlirik paused.

  “Where are you going, Kara Gillian?” he asked.

  I glanced back at him and smiled. “I want to go sit in the grove for awhile.” Already, I could feel a slight touch of its calm as it came into sight. “The past few days have been very shit-tastic. I want to chill for a bit, and it’s really lovely and peaceful in there.”

  He shifted his wings. “Here, there are many places to sit in contemplation,” he told me. “And today, for you, this is not one of them.”

  I blinked at him in surprise, then gave a low chuckle. “Oh, no. I’m not leaving. I promise that.” I could see how he might have misunderstood my intent, considering how I arrived. “I just really need to go there for a little while and get my head on straight
.”

  “Dahn,” he said with quiet insistence. He stepped to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Not to the grove.”

  My smile faded, and for several heartbeats I could only stare at him while I tried to process it. “But I’m not trying to leave. I swear.” I looked to the grove and then back to him, dismay growing. “Kehlirik, please. I really need this. I give you my word I won’t try to leave if you let me go there. Only for a little while. Please.”

  His eyes deepened in what might have been regret or sympathy, but I couldn’t really tell for sure. “It is not my decision, Kara Gillian, so I cannot bind you by your word.”

  “Whose decision is it?” I asked, though I knew damn well whose it was.

  “It is the mandate of Rhyzkahl.”

  Even having guessed it had to be him, it was still a punch in the gut to hear it. “He doesn’t trust me?” Why would he think I’d want to run away from him?

  Kehlirik shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I can only say that he has forbidden the grove.”

  I turned toward the trees again, ache of separation like a knot in my chest. The unfairness of it clawed at me. “I only wanted to sit and think,” I said as disappointment curdled in my gut.

  Kehlirik huffed and resettled his wings. “There is a place that will serve well for this, if you will allow me to show you.”

  “Sure,” I said, throat tight. Apparently I didn’t have a choice. Bereft, I turned away from the grove.

  “Come,” he said. “We will take the path through the gardens.”

  Annoyed and upset, I followed glumly. Did Rhyzkahl really think I would flee here? And what if I did want to leave? Clearly, this option wasn’t available to me. Am I a prisoner again? What the hell is going on?

  An arcane tingle prickled the back of my neck, stopped me in my tracks. It’s the grove, I realized with astonishment. I could feel when someone was using the grove. How awesome was that? “Someone’s coming through the grove,” I said. But then worry spasmed through me. What if it was Mzatal trying again to get me back?