I took it all in, considered. Mzatal had certainly followed through on his promise to retrieve me. “I guess I can handle that.”
Helori’s golden-brown eyes met mine. “I have not known him to willfully break an agreement with a summoner,” he told me. “Dealings with other lords, however, have their own rules.”
“Some of those lords are batshit fucked-up.” I snorted. “I mean, did their mamas not hug them or something?”
Helori’s eternal smile faded a little, and he closed his eyes, as if in pain.
I grimaced. “Shit. Sorry. I was trying to make a joke. I guess a bad one.” But my brow furrowed. What nerve had I struck?
He let out his breath in a soft exhalation and looked back over at me. “In jest, you hit very near the mark.”
My confusion increased. “Why are there no female lords? Do they not have mothers?”
“Genetics and arcane levels determined gender,” he said. “Though it was possible for there to be a female of their kind, it did not occur.”
Questions crowded together in my head, but before I could ask any of them he reached and took my hand.
“My beautiful Kara,” he said, clear and ancient eyes on mine, “they do not know their origin. And I ask you to trust me that, for now, it is for the best.”
My cop instincts poked at me to find out more, to continue to question, but I regretfully slapped said instincts down. For now. “All right.” Damn it.
“It cannot remain thus for much longer,” he said, expression briefly shadowed. “There is so much in flux now.” He stood and nimbly leaped over to my branch, then pulled me to my feet. “And, speaking of flux, I am taking you now to the Zadek Kah—a polar atmospheric anomaly that acts as a kaleidoscope-type prism. The play of colored light over the landscape of ice is indescribable.” He grinned. “It is awesome.”
And before I could blink, we were off again.
Since we seemed to flit all over the planet, I lost track of time. Yet it was clear that Helori wasn’t trying to distract me from either the horror I’d endured or my post-traumatic stress. Each place seemed to be a new opportunity for contemplation or conversation or simple self-discovery—like therapy at super-speed.
That second night, we slept curled up in a den of skarl—hyena-like creatures as friendly as house cats. I was dubious at first, especially since the den reeked of skarl-musk, but it turned out that the skarl gave off a comforting vibe that allowed me the best damn sleep I’d ever had in my life. As soon as I woke, though, Helori traveled us to hot springs surrounded by ice and snow to bathe the thick skarl odor away.
After bathing, I lounged on a smooth rock, neck deep in the water. “If you can teleport pretty much anywhere,” I asked, “why did we take the grove to the beach that first day?” That first day—only two days ago, yet it felt like a century.
“It was so it could truly be your choice,” he told me. “You were not ready to tell me what you wanted, but you could tell the grove.”
That made sense. “The climate and terrain here is a lot like Earth,” I said. “The fact that humans can live here so easily, on a completely different world, is kind of mind-boggling.” I gave Helori a questioning look.
He ducked under the water to slick his hair back, then nimbly climbed out of the pool and crouched beside it, apparently impervious or oblivious to the subfreezing temperatures. “Earth and this realm are closely tied in many ways, like sister worlds,” he told me. “A very close family resemblance.”
My lips pursed as I considered that. “Is the geography the same?” I asked. “I mean, is there a North America and Africa and all that? But, you know, with different names.”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head, eyes crinkling with humor. “Same family, not identical twins.”
I chuckled. “I can handle that.”
He laughed. “I am delighted, as I do not think it will change.”
Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “Okay, my mad syraza, what do you have planned for me today?”
Taking my hand, he hauled me out of the pool, ignoring my protest, though I was surprised to find that the warmth of the hot spring seemed to insulate me from the frigid air. A heartbeat later, I thought we were standing at the mouth of a cave very high above the ground. Then I realized there was far too much wind, and that the cave itself sure seemed to be moving around a lot. Plus the floor was weirdly squishy.
I groaned. I’d seen Star Wars. I looked askance at Helori. “Are we in some sort of giant flying demon worm thing?”
He laughed. “Not a worm. A nehkil. Reminiscent of the Earth basking shark, except more reptilian, and it flies. But don’t worry,” he said as my expression no doubt betrayed my apprehension. “We are far too large to make it down his gullet. Ethereal spores prevalent along the coastline are his primary sustenance. You could say that he soars for spores,” he said, laughing.
I gave him a pained grimace.
“You may note them passing in as flickers of light,” he said, then gestured beyond the open mouth of the nehkil. “Is it not a glorious view?”
I had to agree with him there. It was pretty damn awesome. I’d only flown in airplanes a few times in my life, but I figured we were probably a couple thousand feet up. Sea spread off to the horizon on the right, in varying shades of blue and green from near black to luminescent turquoise. Shifting white marked the places it crashed into land or partially submerged rocks. Verdant forested mountains veined with waterfalls and rivers rose to the left.
Helori pulled a blanket from elsewhere and spread it out on the beastie’s, er, tongue, I assumed. I found myself inordinately glad for the blanket, since I was still buck-naked from the hot springs. But, since Helori was nude as well, I didn’t see a point in making a fuss about clothing, and after only a few minutes I forgot about it completely.
We stayed there for what was probably most of the day. The nehkil’s mouth and tongue were nowhere near as moist as I’d expected, and Helori explained that its salivary glands shut down during this open-mouthed basking in order to prevent it from dehydrating. I alternated between enjoying the view, napping, and general navel-gazing while the nehkil flew along the coastline.
The sun was beginning to dip toward the west when I saw a huge arch of stone stretching from a mountain into the sea. Though I was pretty sure that part was natural, there was something about the shapes around and on top of it that were not. As we got closer, I could make out windows, balconies, and arched doorways, all blending beautifully into the stone and greenery of the arch.
“What’s that?” I asked Helori.
Helori lounged on his side, propped on one elbow. “That’s the home of Rayst and Seretis.”
“Both of them?” I asked. “They live there together?”
He nodded. “They each have their own sections, but most is common use.”
“I met Rayst during the conclave,” I said, “He seemed very nice.” I paused. “I don’t despise him.”
“On the scale of lordly ratings, ‘nice’ serves,” Helori said with a smile. “He involves himself with the power games as little as possible, but will not hesitate to step in if he sees the need.”
As my gaze traveled over the palace, I caught a glimpse of iridescent wings atop the stone arch.
“Rayst and Seretis had a lot of syraza with them at the conclave,” I said. “Do the syraza like them more or something?”
“It is a preference,” he replied. “The potency environment is not only stronger there with two lords together, but also more comfortable due to the nature of those two. And thus many of the younger syraza live near and associate closely with Rayst and Seretis.” Helori smiled. “It took much for the other lords to agree to the shift—for both to be in the same geographic location—because the entire structure of the potency flows had to be reconstructed. But it was long enough ago that all came to agree on it.”
I pursed my lips in a frown. “Ilana is Mzatal’s syraza-counselor, his ptarl, and Zack…Zakaar is Rhyzkahl
’s. Where is Szerain’s?”
“Xharbek.” Helori exhaled. “Xharbek is in hiding.”
My brow furrowed. “Because Szerain is in exile? Or because of why he’s in exile?”
“Both.” He fell silent for several heartbeats before speaking again. “Xharbek is thought dead by, well, most.”
I regarded him, considered his words. “But you don’t think he is.”
His eyes met mine. “No. I do not.”
Interesting. Yet another addition to the mental clue board. At this rate I was going to need a mental clue wall.
I lifted my chin toward the structure as we came closer. “It’s not as Palace-y as the others I’ve seen.”
“Each lord builds according to taste and purpose,” Helori said. “Simply viewing and feeling the residences gives much information.”
That seemed quite true from what I’d seen so far. I glanced back at Helori. “Rayst and Seretis. Are they together together?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes. And have been for a very long time.”
I chuckled. “Well, no wonder they’re happier than all the other lords. Or at least they seem that way.”
“More at peace,” he said with a nod. “Though that too is a relative term.”
The nehkil veered slowly away from the dwelling. The faint flicker at the edge of my sight told me that there were probably aversions or some other sort of protective wards in place to keep wildlife away. I stayed silent long after the home of Rayst and Seretis disappeared from view, pondering everything that had happened since my arrival in the demon realm.
When the sun touched the horizon I turned back to Helori.
“I think it’s time for me to go back now.”
Chapter 23
I exited the tree tunnel in Mzatal’s realm with Helori by my side. My steps slowed as I looked out at the greens and dark greys of the mountains, the glinting glass of Mzatal’s palace, and the dark finger of the column. I wasn’t healed, not by a long stretch, but now I felt as if the fracture had at least been set. And I was ready to face Mzatal.
Helori, still in human form, slid a look at me as we made our way down the stone path and stairs. “Idris is working in the entry hall.”
Shame tightened my gut. I’d had the fucking gall to think that he was the naïve one. Wasn’t that a laugh.
“He was instrumental in your recall,” he continued. “Mzatal could not have accomplished it on his own. Both worked continuously from the time of your departure until the time of your recall.”
I stayed silent for several heartbeats. “I understand now why he stays with Mzatal.”
“It is as perfect a pairing of student and teacher as I have ever seen,” Helori replied.
The simple cave-like entryway beyond the stone and glass doors struck me as refreshingly unpretentious after the opulent grandeur of Rhyzkahl’s palace. Idris stood near the wall to the right, crafting a ward with an ease and elegance that I could only dream of someday having. He glanced my way as we entered, and his eyes lit up with surprise and delight. “Kara!” He turned to me and nearly fumbled the ward, then grinned in relief as Helori lifted a hand and kept it from completely unwinding.
Helori moved off, leaving me alone with Idris. “Yeah, it’s me,” I said, instantly realizing how dumb that sounded.
But his grin only widened. “God, Kara, you look so much better than—” He flushed. “I mean…shit. Sorry. You look great.”
I held back a low laugh. “Thanks. I feel a lot better, too,” I said with a sigh. “I’m sorry you had to go through so much to get me back. Running away to Rhyzkahl was about the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t know it was stupid at the time,” he said with a scowl. “It was Rhyzkahl you were dealing with. How would you know?” He shook his head. “I mean, back on Earth, that is. When you got here, Lord Mzatal should have…” He trailed off, then straightened his shoulders. “He should have told you more,” he said definitively.
Damn. Idris grew a spine while I was gone.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re back,” he continued. “I, um, we were really worried about you.”
“Well, thanks for everything,” I said with a small smile. “I owe you, big-time.”
He flushed and smiled sheepishly. “Nah. It was no biggie. You’re kinda special, y’know?”
Special? Was he crushing on me? Weird. “No, I just managed to attract the attention of some powerful people. A perfect storm of Shit Happens.” Sighing again, I leaned my back against the wall. “The first time I summoned Rhyzkahl was an accident. I was trying to summon Rhyzel, a luhrek, at the same time that Peter Cerise—the Symbol Man killer—was trying to summon Rhyzkahl. The lord simply hijacked my summoning to escape Cerise’s binding.”
Idris began tracing a new ward. “Yeah, whatever. I couldn’t do it.”
I frowned and tilted my head. “Have you ever tried? I mean, summoning a lord?”
His gaze snapped to mine. “You gotta be kidding! No way!”
“Then how do you know you can’t do it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe when you get back to Earth you can try summoning Mzatal.”
He stared at me as if I’d tried to tell him that two plus two equaled three. “You’re serious.”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I mean, as long as Mzatal’s willing. That’s what matters most. And I could show you the storage diagram I used so that I had enough power. What do you have to lose?”
“My measly life?” he said, then grinned and shook his head. “I dunno. Katashi is using four summoners to summon Lord Mzatal. And Lord Mzatal has always been willing.”
That didn’t make sense to me. “I always thought it was easier to summon Rhyzkahl because he was willing.” I shrugged and made a mental note to find out more later. “Well, if you do give it a try, don’t summon any of the other lords.” I wasn’t smiling anymore. “Especially not Amkir, Kadir, Jesral…or Rhyzkahl.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured me. “Even talking about summoning Mzatal is a stretch for me.”
“Yeah, well, don’t even be alone with any of them.” A shiver ran down my spine. “Especially Kadir. He’s twisted.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, his portrait freaked me out enough. Don’t need to see the real thing. Since I’ve been here, Lords Vahl, Elofir, and Seretis have been here a few times, but none of the others.”
“Portrait?”
“In Szerain’s gallery,” Idris said. “On the third level of his palace. There’s portraits of demons, humans, all the lords, all sorts of stuff.” He whistled low and shook his head. “And you know how Szerain’s paintings and sculptures are. Well, that portrait of Kadir felt like he was about an inch away, breathing on me. Scared the shit out of me!” He made a face at the memory.
“I didn’t know about any gallery. I saw lots of his stuff in the rest of the palace,” I said, then scowled blackly as a shadow memory flickered. Why the hell couldn’t I have had a fucking Elinor memory about the gallery when I was actually there at Szerain’s palace?
Idris shrugged. “Yeah, but no lords outside the gallery. At least none that I’ve ever seen.”
Helori returned and touched my arm. “Mzatal will meet you in the plexus.”
I nodded, then looked back to Idris. “I’ll see you later. Thank you for everything.” I gave him a quick hug, then turned and walked quickly away before either of us could get too embarrassed or maudlin.
Helori led the way, which was damn good since I didn’t know where anything was. When Mzatal had first brought me here, he’d taken me straight to the summoning chamber, after which we went right back to the grove, and of course, then I escaped.
My loss, though, because Mzatal’s palace was damn impressive, in a much different way than Rhyzkahl’s. Where Rhyzkahl’s palace rose to lofty white heights with a myriad of towers, balconies, and the feel of opulent indulgence, Mzatal’s curved with the flow of the cliff, dark stone accented with bursts of color from tapestr
ies and intricate wall hangings. Glass comprised most every outside wall, floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall, like in modern high-rise buildings giving the place an open feel and loads of natural light. Helori led me to the spacious atrium with its rising mezzanines, then up stairs and more stairs, down a corridor, and then yet more stairs.
At the top, we entered a broad, high-ceilinged corridor carpeted in luxurious deep blue. “And now we enter Mzatal’s private area,” Helori said, indicating the narrow line of beautiful flickering wards inlaid in the paneling.
We passed several doorless arches leading to glass-walled rooms, including a library, a sitting area, a large barren room, and a solarium. I glanced at the double doors of Mzatal’s chambers—which I recognized only because of the Escher-like carving—odd because of the rarity of doors in the palace. Both Szerain and Rhyzkahl had plenty of doors, so Mzatal’s lack didn’t seem to be characteristic of the demon realm. At the very end of the corridor, we stopped before the only other door. Carvings of interwoven sigils covered it, and their intricacy and grace reminded me of Szerain’s work.
“He is engaged,” Helori told me, “but he is aware you are here.” He pushed the door open enough for me to pass. “Go. Await him.” Smiling, he bent and touched his forehead to mine.
I threw my arms around him in a hug. “Thank you.”
With a low chuckle, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me close. Grinning, I blinked back the silly tears that sprang up, then quickly released him and entered the room before I could totally start bawling.
Windowless and close, the room crackled with potency. Mzatal stood on the other side of a stone pedestal topped with a basin, much like the one I saw in Szerain’s shrine. Intense focus etched his face while sigils and strands of potency danced from his fingers above the surface of the water. Fascinated, I watched the interplay of light and color. I had zero clue what he was doing, but it was still amazing and beautiful.
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