Текст книги "Touch of the Demon"

Автор книги: Diana Rowland

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

Rhyzkahl looked over at me with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “Everything is a game to them.”

I smiled and continued my tale. Rhyzkahl’s eyes narrowed when I told him about the shrine and how I freaked out when I saw the image of the blade. But it was when I told him of falling with Safar and crashing into the grove—and the grove’s incredible response—that he truly reacted.

His lips parted slightly, and red-gold potency flickered briefly in his eyes. “And when you passed through the grove after that, was it the same?” he asked, gaze and presence intense. “Did it still respond to you?”

“When we went through the grove to go to Mzatal’s realm, it simply felt incredibly peaceful,” I told him, smiling a little at the memory. “But the next time we went through, I knew I could use it. That’s how I escaped and kept Mzatal from removing your mark.”

An unusual, faraway look lit his eyes as he looked out past the rail. “Yes,” he said softly. “Clearly you have a very special connection to the groves.” A few heartbeats later he returned his focus to me, faraway look gone. “And what of your injuries once Mzatal had you again?”

“He healed me,” I replied, then told him of the healing and the return to Mzatal’s realm, the attempt to remove the mark and, finally, of his conviction that Rhyzkahl sought Szerain’s blade and of Mzatal’s drive to get it first.

Rhyzkahl remained silent for a moment after I finished, then turned to face me. “Mzatal is arrogant and knows little of what I want,” he said as he stroked the hair back from my face. “That he seeks Vsuhl is valuable information. Veryvaluable.” His hand stilled, resting against my cheek. “The chekkundenhad hopes to make you his own. He did not kill you upon attaining you, and kept you whole.” Anger darkened his eyes. “And then he sought to remove my mark,” he said, nearly snarling the words. “It is an unforgivable offense.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, grimaced. “Well, he came close to killing me more than once.”

Rhyzkahl nodded. “And he sought to slay you through the implant.” His other hand curled into a fist atop the railing. “He now curses his weakness for not killing you while he had you fully in his control.” He sneered. “Foolish that he would think you could ever be his.”

I smiled tightly. “Yeah, well, I’m not his. I won’t everbe his.”

His eyes shifted to me. “No. No you will not.” He pulled me to him before lowering his head and brushing my lips with his. “You belong with me,” he said, voice compelling and resolute.

I slowly relaxed against him as he deepened the kiss. This was what I’d been needing all along—the nice, caring, and sensual Rhyzkahl instead of the badass lord. I needed a damn hug, and if a curl-your-toes kiss came along with it, well, that was fine, too. His arms encircled me, holding me close. I slid my hands around his neck and through the white-blond silk of his hair as I eagerly returned the kiss. I’d been way too stressed these past few days, and I knew exactly how I wanted to relieve it.

He slid a hand to the small of my back, pulling me hard against him and showing me his own stress that needed relieving. His other hand tangled in my hair, lightly fisting as he pulled my head back. I groaned as his mouth traveled down over my throat, teeth grazing my skin. I felt the grove activate but I didn’t care. I wanted to have sex, not watch lords.

But, Rhyzkahl, damn him, lifted his head and looked out toward the grove. I tried to pull his head back down to mine, but he exhaled and shifted away from me. “The last two, Rayst and,” he shook his head slightly, “Seretis.”

I did my best to control my pesky libido and looked out at the approaching lords. These two had a scattering of reyza and faas with them, but also at least half a dozen syraza. Rayst had a swarthy complexion and what seemed to be a stocky build beneath nondescript robes, though he moved with a grace and ease that told me the thickness of his body likely wasn’t due to being out of shape. Wavy brown hair swept back from his face to the nape of his neck, and the smile on his face was broad and genuine as he conversed with a syraza beside him.

The other lord, Seretis, was tall and rangy, with chiseled cheekbones and dark, wavy hair that brushed his shoulders. He totallylooked as if he belonged on a Spanish-language soap opera. The fact that he wore a frilly RenFaire type shirt, black breeches, and boots only added to the impression. These two exuded patient kindness and a subtle strength—unless I’d missed something. Why did Rhyzkahl shake his head when he saw them?

I did a mental head count of the lords. Process of elimination meant the first one today had been Vrizaar. At least now I had faces to put with names, except for Jesral.

“So Mzatal won’t be coming,” I said, relieved.

“He could arrive under protection of the conclave,” Rhyzkahl replied, “but he will not. You need not trouble yourself with that.” He stepped back, adjusted his clothes with a twitch of his hands, and shook his hair back into perfect place. “There is much I must attend to,” he said with a smile, eyes still carrying a hint of a smolder.

Oh, well. So much for de-stressing. I summoned a faint smile in return. He turned to go, then paused and looked back at me. “What of after Mzatal was thrown back, and he failed to remove the mark?” he asked, a frown creasing his forehead. “What happened then?”

I grimaced and ran a hand through my hair. “He wanted to find a way to block my contact with the grove, so he decided to take me to some place in the middle of nowhere so that he could have some time to work without you finding him.” I gave a low chuckle. “And that’s when I got my ass out of there and used the grove to come here.”

“Yes, relocation to a remote grove would have caused delay,” Rhyzkahl said, “though I would have found you.” He lifted the hand that had been so bloody the night I arrived. “I was in the final preparations for it when you so cleverly escaped.” I couldn’t be sure, but I thought there was an approving glint in his eye.

“Just in the nick of time, too,” I said with a chuckle. “Mzatal was getting…um, weird.”

Rhyzkahl lowered his hand and frowned. “Weird? What did he do?”

“He kissed me,” I said. “But it was weirdand, I mean…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain it.

Red-gold potency abruptly shimmered around him. “Kissed you?” he hissed through clenched teeth. I took a step back in surprise at the vehemence of his reaction. “Mzatal kissed you?” His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “He had no right to touch you thus!”

“Well, yeah, he didn’t have the right.” I said. “Not without my permission.” I frowned and watched him, wary. “Look, it was just a kiss, and an odd one at that. I mean, it lasted a few seconds at most.”

The flare of potency faded, but his eyes smoldered again. “Nothing with him is without purpose.” He closed the distance between us again, eyes traveling over me. “Nothing.”

“I’m starting to realize that,” I said with a wry smile.

He moved in and gripped my head firmly in his hands, wound his fingers in my hair.

I laughed low in my throat. “I thought you had lords to attend to?”

“I am unavoidably detained.” He tightened his hands in my hair with the perfect amount of intensity to send heat rushing through me. “I have far more pressing business here.”

His mouth came down on mine, fierce and possessive, as if to remind me what a realkiss was like. His arms came around me, and he lifted and carried me inside before near-throwing me onto the bed. I let out a surprised yelp, then grinned as he took hold of my sweater and pulled it over my head. I hadn’t put on a bra earlier, and I was damn glad of it now as he lowered his head to my breasts. He continued to suck and lightly bite as he undid the fastening of my pants, then sat up, grabbed the waistband, and yanked them off me in one fluid motion.

“I do not like that Mzatal touched you,” he growled before lowering his head between my legs. I groaned and dropped my head back as he began to work some lordly magic with his tongue. Mzatal certainly hadn’t touched me there, but I was totally okay with Rhyzkahl doing whatever he felt necessary to fuck the Mzatal off me, so to speak. More than okay. In no time at all I was crying out and clenching in orgasm. Mzatal who? I don’ know any Mzatal….

Rhyzkahl was far from finished. He straightened up, eyes still lit with a possessive fire that made my loins spasm and shudder in all the right ways. “You are mine,” he snarled. “ Mysummoner.” He pushed his pants down only enough to free his erection, which somehow turned me on even more. Yet even with my libido raging like a nuclear reactor in meltdown, I forced myself to hold up a hand. “Wait,” I gasped.

To my surprise he went still, though his eyes narrowed in question.

“Swear to me that you won’t get me pregnant,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. Back at home I was on the pill. Here, I had no such protection, and I did notwant to take the chance that a lord/human hybrid was possible.

He gave a low snort, though I couldn’t tell if it was in amusement or derision. “I have no desire to get you with child,” he told me. “I swear I will not do such without your consent.” Before I could do more than nod in acceptance, he seized my hips, flipped me onto my stomach, then pulled me up to my hands and knees and entered me in the same movement. With one hand he pushed my head down to the bed as he drove hard into me, wringing low guttural cries from me with every thrust. He knew me so damn well, knew what I wanted—what I neededright now. I didn’t want lovemaking. I wanted some hard and mindless fucking, and he was damn well going to give it to me.

His hand tightened in my hair and his other slid around to massage my clit. Before I knew it I climaxed yet again, giving a hoarse scream as I bucked in his grasp. Rhyzkahl continued to thrust deeply as I shuddered, but as soon as I was finished he pulled free and turned me onto my back. He kneed my legs apart and entered me again. His mouth came down on mine as I wrapped my legs around him, yet this time he kept his pace slow, almost teasing as he kissed me. I moaned against his mouth and slid my arms around to stroke the smooth muscles of his back.

He broke the kiss to nuzzle below my ear. “I am deeply pleased you escaped to come here,” he murmured.

“You just like staking your claim,” I replied with a low laugh.

His teeth grazed my neck. “Dahn. I have no need to claim what is already mine.” He began to thrust harder, and my desire for any sort of conversation fled. I lifted my hips to him, already feeling another orgasm building. Was it some sort of demonic lord trick that made that possible? If that was the case, I was totally ruined for human men.

I clutched at him as the pleasure built between us. He came first, with me only a few seconds behind, in a frenzied tangle of limbs and hair and sweat and musk. Eventually he slowed and stopped, still lightly pulsing within me.

“You are mysummoner,” he said, looking into my face.

“No shit, Sherlock,” I said with a throaty laugh. I lifted up my arm. “I even have the tat to prove it.”

Chapter 14

After Rhyzkahl left to greet the lords, I dozed a bit. Or maybe I was in a post-coital coma. Either way, I lay in languid stupor until well after the midday bell, only dragging myself up and out of bed after a pair of faas entered—again with the no knocking, but bearing food.

After bathing and dressing—and discovering that I was nowhere near as sore as I should have been after the morning’s exertions—I headed out to explore more of the palace grounds.

Kehlirik wasn’t waiting for me in the corridor, though I had no idea whether it was because Rhyzkahl decided to trust me or because the reyza had been disciplined for my attempted break for the grove. I hoped to hell it wasn’t the latter. I liked Kehlirik, and he’d been distracted only because of his efforts to shield me from Sehkeril’s harassment.

At the same time, I knew damn well that I was still being watched and guarded, even if I didn’t have a giant demon at my side. As I walked down the corridor, I caught flickers of motion in my peripheral vision, and the occasional glint of eyes hidden in shadows. After I stepped outside I peered up at the towers, unsurprised to see Pyrenth and two kehza peering right back at me. Yep, still watched and guarded.

It’s for my own protection,I reminded myself, though the thought came with a sour twist of annoyance. The memory of the incident with Kadir rose, and a shiver ran over me that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Kehlirik hadn’t been able to shield me from the creepy lord’s attentions. What the hell was I supposed to do if that sort of thing happened again? I scowled as I trudged up the path on the side of the palace away from the grove. I had a hard time believing that an oath would be sufficient protection.

I crested a rise and my scowl faded. The path dropped away to a plot of surprisingly verdant winter grass atop the cliff overlooking the turquoise sea. A light breeze snuck its way through my sweater, and I regretted not bringing a jacket. High clouds streaked the sky, and I wondered if the weather was similar enough to Earth’s that fronts could be predicted by how the clouds moved. Not that I knew how to do that. I predicted the weather by calling up the forecast on my smartphone.

On the green stood a gazebo-type thing draped in flowering ivy and surrounded by bushes of brilliant reds and blues. Soft musical tones reached my ears, and as I approached I saw small crystalline ornaments, artfully hung to catch the wind and ringing far more elegantly than the usual wind chimes. A gentle warmth surrounded me as I stepped in, and the flicker of sigils told me that the structure had been warded against wind and cold much like my balcony. The supports of the gazebo rose to delicate filigree arches, the stone translucent and glowing in the sun.

I settled on a bench and let the low melody of the crystal-things soothe me. A faas shimmied up a tree not far away and began to pluck golden winter fruits. Long-winged birds with iridescent green plumage wheeled beyond the lip of the cliff, giving soft cries that sounded more catlike than birdlike. It was all so very close to Earth yet not, in a way that was somewhat unnerving, like a doll that was a little too lifelike.

From where I sat I had an excellent view of the sea to my left and the mountains rising behind the palace to my right, and I realized the gazebo had likely been situated for that. My gaze swept over the mountain range and stopped at a section that just looked wrong. A chill raced down my spine. I squinted and realized that the dip in that area wasn’t a natural valley but a massive crater, large enough to have taken out half a mountain. More signs of the cataclysm. The decimated location of another ancient valve.

A scrape of sound on the steps drew my attention. I turned as a woman dressed in a sumptuous, deep turquoise velvet gown and a rich, dark blue, hooded cloak stepped into the gazebo. Probably in her early twenties, she had long and lush chestnut hair and big brown eyes. Her gaze fell on me, and then a huge smile spread across her face.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed. “Detective Gillian!”

“Ummm,” I replied in a remarkable display of intelligence. How the hell did this woman know who I was, and why would she call me that? “Yes?”

She moved to the bench near mine, beaming. “You don’t remember. It’s me…Michelle.” Apparently I still looked utterly baffled because she added, “Michelle Cleland.” She laughed. “I guess I looked pretty shitty the last time you saw me.”

My jaw dropped. This was Michelle Cleland? The last time I’d seen her she’d been tied up in the middle of the Symbol Man’s summoning circle. A crack addict who’d turned tricks to score more drugs, she’d been an easy target for the serial killer. Now I could see that, yes, the features were the same, but holy crap, the difference! No longer the pinched and gaunt look of an addict, her skin and hair glowed with vibrant health, and she’d filled out to where she was now slender instead of skinny. But more importantly, she looked happy.

“Damn…Michelle!” I began to grin. “You look amazing! Wow. I guess things have been okay for you here?”

“It’s been awesome,” she said with a warm smile as she arranged the cloak around her. “This may sound kinda lame, but thank you. I know you saved me.” She dropped her eyes to her hands and then brought them back up to mine. “Coming here saved my life. I know that.”

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you’re doing so well,” I said. “To be honest, I had no idea what really happened to you after the ritual.” I grimaced. “For the longest time I thought you were dead.”

“I would have been dead pretty damn soon if all that stuff hadn’t happened to me,” Michelle admitted. “God, I was such a mess.” She lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “I know I’m not perfect now but…” She laughed and gestured to herself. “I never even dreamed I could be like this!”

“You look like a damn princess,” I said with total approval. “So, tell me what happened. Rhyzkahl took you back, but do you still live with him?” Surely I would have seen her before now, right?

She shook her head, curls bouncing. “Nope. I’m with Lord Vahl. I was a mess when I got here, and it was only a coupla days before Lord Rhyzkahl sent me to Lord Vahl, accompanied by a reyza.” She bit her lip prettily. “He’s taken real good care of me. Got my habit fixed up an’ everything. God, he treats me like a queen. Me!” She laughed. “It’s like a fairy tale.”

I peered at her. “You’re really okay?” I asked. “I mean, you’re not having to do anything you don’t want to, are you?” I narrowed my eyes. “Because if so, you let me know.” Yeah, I was totally in a position to lay down a warning to this Lord Vahl. Riiight.

Her smile widened. “Nope, nothing like that. There’s sex, y’know, but it’s all cool. I’ve never been forced or anything.” Her mouth twitched, and a faint flush crept across her face. “And the sex is damn good, too.”

“I’m really happy for you,” I said sincerely. “That’s the best news I’ve had in a while.”

“So what are you doing here?” Michelle asked, tilting her head. “Back on earth I had nooooo idea you were a summoner.” She laughed. “Or even that there was such a thing, ’cept on TV or something.”

“Yeah, I’m a summoner.” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “In fact I’m Lord Rhyzkahl’s summoner, which, um, has made things kind of,” I paused, grimaced, “interesting. I was summoned here against my will, then got away from the lord who did that and came here.” I tugged a hand through my hair. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on and what to do.”

Her smile slipped, and her forehead puckered in worry. “That sounds scary. I mean, the not knowing part.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “And I miss home.” Two days until Rhyzkahl could send me home. I could last two more days, right?

“Oh…oh! You must be ‘the girl’!” At my baffled look she continued. “Right before we left, Vahl said something about coming here because of the conclave and that Lord Rhyzkahl had gotten the girl back.” She shrugged. “No big deal, just realized that had to be you.”

I straightened, doing my best to make it seem casual instead of the somewhat startled reaction that it was. “I can’t imagine there’s anyone else it could be.” I gave her a look of oh-so-casual query. “Did he say anything else?”

“Not much,” she replied. “I asked him what girl, and he laughed and said, ‘One that Rhyzkahl really needs.’” She shrugged again. “I guess if you’re his sworn summoner that makes a lot of sense.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” I replied. Really needs? For what? To summon him to Earth once a month?

An oddly familiar discordance, like a high-pitched mental whine, distracted me from my troubled musings. I cast my gaze around but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Still, I stood up, uneasy.

The shimmer repeated, and this time I remembered where I’d felt it before. “Michelle, I think you need to go find Lord Vahl.”

“Is something wrong?” Michelle asked.

“Not sure,” I lied. “Best to be safe and find your lord. I need to find Rhyzkahl.”

She gave a nervous nod. “Yeah…sure. Thanks, Kara.” She picked up her skirts and hurried off to the palace. I watched long enough to be sure she was heading back, then took off at a run down the other path.

Once inside, I stopped the first demon I encountered, a faas whose name I couldn’t remember. “Where’s Rhyzkahl?” I asked, panting for breath. “Something’s wrong.”

It peered at me. “Wrong what?”

“Anomaly,” I told it.

It let out a low squeak. “Rhyzzzzzkahl in plexus!”

“Okay. Where the hell is that?” I had no idea whatit was either, but that would have to wait.

The demon took off running, and I hurried to follow. I quickly lost track of the various turnings, and ups and downs of stairs, but eventually the faas stopped at the end of a long hall in front of intricately carved double doors. Breathless, I thanked the faas, who dipped its head in acknowledgment before scurrying off. I raised my hand to pound on the door, but Rhyzkahl yanked it open before I could touch it. Behind him I caught a glimpse of shifting globes of light over a stone pedestal and basin much like the one in Szerain’s shrine. He leveled a frown at me as he stepped into the hall and grabbed my hand. “Come,” he said, closing the door and my view of whatever the orb stuff was.

“You feel it too?” I asked, trotting along as he moved quickly down the corridor.

“Not yet. Olihr notified me. He and the rest of the syraza—” He gave me a sharp look without breaking stride. “You can feel the anomaly?”

“Yeah, I felt it when I was out in the gardens and ran in here to find you.”

“How did you feel it?” he asked, near bounding up the stairs and forcing me to break into a jog.

“I, uh, the grove told me,” I said, instantly feeling silly for saying it that way, though I didn’t know how else to explain it.

His grip tightened on my hand. “The grove told you– how?”

I winced at his grip and struggled to keep up. “I don’t know. I felt something weird, like an imbalance.” I scowled. “It’s not like it called me up and said, ‘Yo, Kara, some weird shit’s going down. Deal with it, girl!’”

We reached a main corridor but by this point I was so hopelessly lost I didn’t know if we were on the ground floor or the damn attic. This place really could have used some signs with maps and You are herearrows on them.

Rhyzkahl pulled me next to the wall, released my hand, and gave me a hard look. “Stay right here and do not move. The anomaly is within the palace and has the potential for catastrophic damage.” He moved off, then stopped and looked back at me. “Stay there,” he commanded again, as if suspecting I might have a tendency to do my own thing.

I put my hands on my hips and gave him a sour look.

He narrowed his eyes, perhaps sensing my capacity for obstinance, then turned and headed rapidly off.

A few seconds later I heard voices coming down the corridor behind me, conversing rapidly in demon. I remained where I was at the side of the corridor and folded my hands over my chest as the voices approached. I didn’t have long to wait before a pair of lords turned a corner and proceeded toward me. Rayst and Seretis, the last two lords to arrive.

Seretis gave me a quick glance and smile as he moved swiftly past, but Rayst motioned to me.

“Come, it is this way,” he said. “You can help lay the structure.”

I moved to follow but caught myself just in time, grimacing. “Rhyzkahl told me to stay here.”

He stopped. “Here? Now?” He shook his head and gave me a smile. “You are needed elsewhere. It will help much to have you anchor the foundation.”

I hadn’t the faintest clue what he was talking about. I reallywanted to see what was going on, but at the same time I did try hard not to be extraordinarily stupid. “Rhyzkahl will kick my ass if I move. For real.”

Rayst chuckled, then muttered something in demon that had Rhyzkahl’s name in it. He flicked a lasso of potency around my wrist and raised an eyebrow. “It is simple. You will tell him I ordered you to come, bound you in potency, and dragged you with me.”

“Okay, okay! No dragging necessary.” I grinned, but there was a teensy part of me that wondered if he would.

“Excellent. Now come!” He headed off down the corridor, and I followed. He still had the lasso lightly wrapped around my wrist, but he had yet to so much as tug on it.

“I am Rayst,” he told me as we walked. “And the one who flew by you, Seretis.”

“I’m Kara Gillian,” I replied with a smile. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Honor and greetings to you, Kara Gillian.” He stopped at a cross corridor, brow creasing as if trying to determine which way to go.

“This way,” I said, pointing to the right. I could sense the anomaly, like a knot in an otherwise smooth thread.

Rayst glanced that way, nodded. “You can feel it. Excellent perception.”

I led the way now, taking a left at yet another corridor, finally coming out into an indoor courtyard. The ceiling was four stories above, and mezzanines encircled the open space. Half in and half out of a wood-paneled wall, a soccer ball-sized anomaly pulsed and spun. Like the tiny one I’d seen with Ilana at Szerain’s place, it alternately radiated and sucked light back into itself, each shift sending a shiver of discordance through me.

Rayst eyed the aberration warily as he recalled the lasso from my wrist. “The syraza are aloft working the vertex. We will construct the binder here.” He swept his arm in an arc a few feet from the thing. “Set a quadrant of portal anchors. That will be very useful.”

Portal anchors. I could handle that. Maybe. I mean, I was pretty sure I could, though I’d never done them in a quadrant before. I started to turn toward the perimeter, then grimaced. “Wait, I can’t.” Sighing, I tapped the damn collar. “I can’t touch the arcane.”

Rayst snorted softly, reached and slid his hands around my neck, then slipped the collar off.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling in relief as my sense of the arcane flowed in. “But you know I have to blame that on you as well, right? I’ll throw you right under the bus, I’m warning you now.”

“Since it is already done, agreed,” he replied, eyes flashing with humor.

With the collar off I could see more of the anomaly. In the light phase, brilliant rays flashed from it. In the dark phase, all light sucked into it, and even the room dimmed. I moved to where Rayst had indicated and began to puzzle out how to do a quadrant of anchors. I finally set it up in the way that made the most sense to me, yet after a few minutes I had to wonder if I was doing it wrong. I felt as if I was wrestling six octopuses at once. Was it supposed to be this difficult?

“Ah, Rhyzkahl comes, and he is not pleased,” Rayst said, smiling as if that was a good thing. With a few flicks of his hand he set sigils around my quadrant, though I thought I caught a slight frown as his gaze took in how I was holding the anchors. “Now set a basic ktiremto hold it stable, and we have our foundation.”

“A…what?” I could barely hold the anchors. How the hell was I supposed to do something else, assuming I even knew what it was?

“A ktirem,” he repeated. He quickly traced an unfamiliar pattern and anchored it to the quadrant. “You can hold it, yes?

Gulping, I shook my head, oddly embarrassed at my fumbling efforts. The quadrant had been bad enough, but now I felt like I was trying to sprint while wearing a loaded backpack. “I don’t know how,” I gasped. “I’m sorry.”

Rayst exhaled, brow furrowing as he took in the structure of my anchors. “Why do you have it—” He shook his head, leaving the sentence unfinished, but I had a feeling it was something like “Why do you have it in that godawful fucked up configuration?” or something similar. I had to be doing something wrong. Why else would I already be so wiped out?

But obviously Rayst didn’t have time right now to teach me how to do it properly. He quickly laid strands of potency on each of my anchors, then gathered them and passed them to me. “Now hold that like you would a veil for a portal. All you need do is not let go.”

I gathered the strands to me, relieved and ashamed, feeling as if I’d just been handed training wheels. Rhyzkahl entered with long strides, angry cast to his face as he took note of my presence. He stopped across from me and began to add to Rayst’s pattern. “You were not to move,” he said, eyes going from me to Rayst.

“He forced me,” I said breathlessly, jerking my chin toward Rayst and giving him a slight wink.

Rhyzkahl began to speak, but Rayst cut him off. “How far along in the shikvihris she, Rhyzkahl?” Even as exhausted as I was, I could tell it was one of those probing questions like “So, what sort of books does your child read?”

Rhyzkahl’s face went dark and dangerous. He began to trace fluidly, merging his work with Rayst’s, but with a distinctly harsh edge. He lowered his head and spoke in demon to Rayst.

The other lord shook his head and raised an eyebrow as he replied, eyes still on Rhyzkahl. Meanwhile I wondered what the hell a shikvihr was if asking about it could piss off Rhyzkahl so much. And I couldn’t even wonder that for long. The two lords were definitely having an effect on the anomaly, but each yank of their pattern sent my own strands wavering. I continued to hold, but I was fast approaching the point of not being able to do much of anything.

Rhyzkahl made a slashing gesture that sent a wave through the pattern, accompanied by a single word that I had a feeling was Enough, judging solely by tone and body language.

Rayst replied with two words, and I didn’t have to know demon to know it was something awfully close to Fuck you.

The two lords worked in tense silence. I wanted to watch, see Rhyzkahl in action, but I didn’t dare pull any focus away from my own pattern.

Without any warning, the anomaly disappeared with a crack.

My pattern collapsed along with it. I took a staggering step to the wall and slid down it. Sitting felt like a reallygood idea at the moment. How the hell could Idris do all this stuff so easily? What the hell am I doing wrong?