Touch of the Demon

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 tapestries 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.

I closed the door quietly behind me and waited for him to finish. I didn’t have any sense he was making me wait on purpose, which made it much easier for me to be patient. It was like watching the coolest laser show ever, except without lasers. Instead, glowing streamers were caught and woven back into place, and wobbly things were set to spin smoothly. Mzatal moved around the table in a graceful flow, wasting no motion and doing things almost before I realized there was anything to engage.

Finally he lowered his hands and sent the remaining “stuff” down into the basin, then set a single orb about a foot in diameter spinning above it. He lowered his head, assessing its movement and moving fingers slightly until it spun smoothly.

Stepping back, he gave a little nod of completion, not unlike the one he’d given after that weird as hell kiss. What the hell had that kiss been all about, anyway?

He watched the orb for another few heartbeats, then turned to face me, eyes full of a deep resonant potency.

“Kara,” he said, speaking my name like an extension of that power.

“Mzatal,” I replied with a slight nod.

He moved toward me, and for the barest instant I had the bizarre impression that he was going to hug me, but then he clasped his hands behind his back in standard Mzatal-pose. “You seem more yourself.”

“I’m…better.” I still didn’t feel totally like me, but at least I knew who me was. “So what now?”

Mzatal opened the door without touching it. Convenient trick, I figured, since he had his hands behind his back so much. “Come. The plexus is stable.” He glanced back at the spinning orb, then headed out. “We can talk of what is to come next in more comfort.”

I cast one last glance at the orb thingy, then followed him.

Chapter 24

We went back down the corridor and entered the archway of the solarium. The high ceiling as well as the wall opposite the archway were constructed of glass. It reminded me of Rhyzkahl’s arboretum without the trees. The glass doors stood open to the balcony and the expanse of sea beyond, and fresh air touched with salt flowed over me. The side walls alternated wide vertical bands of the natural dark stone and softly gleaming gold, embossed with scenes of demons and humans. Near the balcony waited two low, comfortable-looking chairs with a table between. It felt as though they’d been arranged for this moment.

Mzatal gestured to one of the chairs. I sat, nerves beginning to set in as he took the other. Shit was about to get real.

“How was your journey?”

“It was very interesting,” I said, smile twitching briefly. Somehow I doubted that Mzatal would have approved of the more dangerous parts. “And I don’t feel like I’m about to break into a million pieces anymore.”

Mzatal smiled—the most genuine smile I’d ever seen on him. “I can feel it. You will be able to move forward now, no longer mired.”

I sighed. “Helori explained why it isn’t in my best interests to return to Earth right now, and how I need to be better prepared, better able to protect myself and others, before I can go home.” I still hated it, but I understood it. “He also says that you can be trusted to abide by your word.”

He gave a quick nod. “I do not break my agreements with summoners.”

I spread my hands on the cool wood of the table. “Then why don’t you start with the terms you desire, and then we can go from there.”

“A simple framework,” Mzatal began. “A five year agreement to provide summoning services from this realm and from Earth, as required and specified in the agreement. One full year of training here before assessing the possibility of return to Earth. You will take no action that is against my best interests—which, by the end of a year, you will know how to discern. I will provide full training—all that you are able to absorb.”

My eyebrows lifted. “Five years?” I asked, incredulous. “No way. Nothing more than three years, and we will decide together the possibility of my return to Earth after six months. And in the event of an impasse, Helori will make the final decision.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">