Текст книги "Touch of the Demon"

Автор книги: Diana Rowland

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Chapter 20

“Come, Rowan.” Jesral tugged on my leash, rousing me from my fitful doze. “You have work to do.”

I drew back from him. “No, please.”

The slim lord scowled. He gave the leash another sharp tug, then lifted a quirt and smacked it across my bare hip. I yelped and scrambled to my feet.

“Come,” he repeated as he turned and began to walk. Heart pounding, I hurried after him. I knew he’d drag me if I didn’t.

He pulled me to the center of Rhyzkahl’s summoning chamber, then disappeared into darkness, leaving me alone. Cold air sent gooseflesh rippling over my bare skin. Dim red light streamed from a sigil high above, and as I stood shivering, more sigils flared into life to surround me in a slowly spinning circle. Shying away from them, I cast a frantic gaze around. “Mzatal?”

Rhyzkahl caught my chin and tipped my head up. “He is not here, dear one.” He gave a soft smile. “It is so much better this way. He would only use you. I told you.”

I recoiled. “You. You hurt me!” A lasso of potency wrapped around my wrist, but it didn’t come from Rhyzkahl. I looked back in shock to see Mzatal, face angry and hard as he dragged me toward him.

“I amhere,” he snarled. “I will retrieve you, and I will hold you.”

I struggled against the lasso. Kadir’s cold laugh echoed through the darkness.

“Pain is ephemeral,” Rhyzkahl said, before me again as he raised the blood-slick blade. “You are eternal. Mine.”

Jesral stepped out of the darkness. “Ours.”

Mzatal bared his teeth and dragged me closer to him.

Dull pain flared in my shoulders as I jerked awake. I stared at the ceiling, domed and painted to look like the night sky, replete with softly winking stars. Not Rhyzkahl’s summoning chamber. A bedroom. Mzatal’s. I squeezed my eyes shut, choking back a sob of both relief and dismay.

Mzatal moved into my view. “Kara. A dream. It was a dream.”

No. It wasn’t a dream. I let out a shuddering breath and focused on him. He was still wearing the same white dress shirt he’d had on before, now patterned with dried blood that I knew was mine. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and I had a feeling he’d woken only an instant before I had.

He poured tunjen juice into a glass, then slipped an arm beneath me to help me sit up, releasing me as soon as I was upright. “Drink. You need much fluid.”

I took it with both hands and drank, wincing at residual pain in my shoulders. After I finished and held out the empty glass, he simply refilled it and pressed it into my hand again.

I stared down at the pale pink juice, struggling to find a way to get everything to make sense. I should have seen Rhyzkahl’s betrayal coming.How could I have been so fucking gullible?

“Drink more,” Mzatal prompted. Numbly, I lifted the glass and drank. “There is more work to be done on your shoulders,” he said as soon as I finished, “then that aspect will be complete.” He took the empty glass and set it on the side table, helped me lie back.

I looked away as he began to work, shame continuing to knot my gut. There’d been a million things I could have done differently. Yet I’d stumbled blindly on and right into Rhyzkahl’s trap.

Mzatal leaned over me, laying one hand on each shoulder. Warmth flowed into me, chasing the pain away. He remained silent while he worked, either because of his own obvious fatigue, or perhaps because he knew that a bunch of talk wasn’t what I needed right now. I turned my head to the right and watched clouds drift in the pale grey of the early morning sky. Fresh air from the open glass doors carried the scent of rain and flowers, and the incessant low roar of the waterfall offered a soothing backdrop of sound.

Eventually, he withdrew his hands. “You have much to consider and process, Kara.”

I scowled. “Ya think?”

He remained unruffled by my snark. “Yes, I do. Helori will take you away from here for a time, to regain yourself.”

A frown tugged at my mouth. “What do you mean, away? And who’s Helori?”

“Helori is a demahnk syraza,” he told me. “Away from here. You need time and space to recover.”

I looked away from him, watched as an ilius coiled its way across the floor to settle in a corner of the room. “Guess I’m not much good to you all busted up inside and out, huh?”

He didn’t argue the point. “Nor are you serving yourself in any way.” He reached and ran his hands three times from my neck down over the points of my shoulders, then straightened and clasped his hands behind his back.

I sat up. Nothing hurt anymore, and that felt strange. “Thank you,” I said. “Where are you sending me?”

He inclined his head to me. “I trust Helori to take you to places appropriate for you to regain something of yourself.”

My eyes drifted to the grove beyond the southern window wall. Home. I could be myself at home, I thought, wishing the grove could take me there. I wish I’d never become a summoner.I sure as hell didn’t want to ever summon again.

“Give it time, Kara,” Mzatal said in a curiously gentle voice. “You have much potential and will remember that when you come to yourself again.”

I stiffened. “Stop reading my mind,” I snarled. “I fucking hate that shit.”

“I cannot,” he replied, moving out to the doorway of the balcony. “As I have noted before, it is as invisibly natural as the beating of my heart.”

“Well, try.” My hands shook, and I clenched them in the sheet. Rhyzkahlread my fears and weaknesses, used them against me ruthlessly. “It’s like a mental assault.”

He exhaled. “As I said, I cannot. Though I give you my word that I will not use it to your detriment.”

His word. Right. I didn’t have a whole lot of trust for lords going on at the moment. Shivering, I pulled the sheet up. My hands brushed my torso, and I froze, felt the blood drain from my face. “There are scars.” My voice shook badly. “They scarred.” None of my other wounds he’d healed had scarred. Why these?

“I did all that could be done,” he said, regret coloring his voice. “The nature of their creation—the taint of rakkuhr—prevented more.”

I flinched. “I have to live with them forever?” I struggled to process the knowledge that I would have a constant reminder of what happened to me.

“Unless a means beyond my understanding comes forward, yes.”

He doesn’t care, I thought, mood suddenly bleak. Why should he? He wanted me as his summoner. Didn’t matter to him whether I was all scarred up. I pulled the sheet back up, shivers going through me in waves. I couldn’t seem to hold a thought in my head for more than a few seconds. I knew I was in deep shock and suffering from all sorts of post-trauma stress, but knowing it and being able to do something about it were two completely different things. I felt utterly fractured, and I didn’t have the faintest idea of how to even begin putting myself back together.

Mzatal turned back to me, brow furrowed, looking as though he was about to say something, then he shifted his attention to the door. “Helori is here to take you.”

I followed his gaze to see a syraza crouched silently by the door. Larger than Ilana and apparently male, he also had the ridges on head and torso that marked him as an Elder. I hadn’t heard him come in. For all I knew he’d been there since before I woke up. How was I supposed to prepare for a trip with him? Was I supposed to pack or something?

Helori rose fluidly and moved to the side of the bed, crouched again. “I am Helori,” he said with a teeth-baring smile. “And I would be honored if you would accompany me on a journey.”

I dragged up an unsteady smile from somewhere. “Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say after that.

Apparently it was enough. Helori lifted his eyes to Mzatal. “I have her now.”

Mzatal gave the syraza a nod, eyes traveling over me before he turned and departed.

“Do I…?” I frowned, tried again. “Should I pack something?”

“I have done so for you,” he told me, “and am happy to add anything, though I will have access to most necessities while we are away.”

“I don’t think I need anything.” My frown deepened. I was pretty sure that was true.

Helori stood, and now I saw he had clothing in his hand. “I have these for you,” he said, setting on the foot of the bed the necessary underwear as well as shirt and pants made of a pale blue gauzy material. He placed simple slip-on shoes on the floor nearby. “If they do not suit, I will find others.” He tilted his head. “Yes? No?”

“Yeah,” I said, glad not to be faced with any weightier decision than that. “That’s good.”

He moved to the balcony. “I will be here when you are ready.”

I waited for him to leave, then reached cautiously for the clothing, anticipating pain and surprised when it didn’t come. I dressed slowly, then tugged my hands through my hair, expecting and finding it tangled and greasy. Someone had cleaned the blood off me while I slept, but I still felt yucky. Yet I also didn’t want to bathe here. I didn’t want to spend any more time here than necessary. And I trusted Helori, an Elder, more than I trusted Mzatal.

I slipped the shoes on and stepped out to the balcony. “I guess I’m ready.”

Helori smiled. “Come then. We will go to the grove.” He took my hand and led me back through Mzatal’s chambers and out. I followed without question or resistance as he led me out of the palace and toward the grove, his hand firm and comfortable on mine, our entire journey remarkably free of demons or humans or lords.

Helori greeted the mehnta as we entered the grove, then pulled me to the center and gave my hand a light squeeze. “Where would you like to go?”

Someplace safe, I thought. Someplace calm and beautiful and far away from lords. Far far away from lords.But to Helori I only gave a small shrug.

The syraza squeezed my hand again, nodded to the mehnta, and then we were gone.

Chapter 21

Helori led me up the tree tunnel of the grove at our destination and onto the narrow trail, through oversized plants with leaves twice my height pressing close and arching above. The rushing sound of surging surf came from ahead, punctuated by sharp cries and squawks from a variety of unseen creatures.

“Perhaps here will suit,” he said as we stepped out into the open.

I breathed in the warm salt air, felt the brush of the light breeze ruffle my shirt. “It’s perfect,” I murmured.

White sand met the gentle surf of brilliant sea, waves of turquoise and rich blue catching the afternoon sun. The beach stretched left and right as far as I could see, bounded by rich greens and purples of giant trees and plants.

“You swim,” he said as we moved down toward the water. “This is good for swimming. Very good.”

The water was beautiful, but I still hesitated. I didn’t want to take my shirt off. I didn’t want to see or show the sigils. “That’s okay,” I said. “I…I’ll just sit on the beach awhile.”

Helori kept the loose hold on my hand as he continued down the beach. “You would not regret it. The seas here can be very soothing.”

I didn’t want to make a scene, and so I continued on down to the water’s edge with him. I simply didn’t have it in me to argue. “Sure.” I could leave my shirt on. That would work.

Helori knelt and slipped my shoes off, carried them in one hand and took my hand again with the other as he led me over the fine-grained sand into the fringe of the surf. The water whooshed and swirled around my ankles in random, yet hypnotic movement. I didn’t pull away from him. The water seemed to help me forget, at least briefly, how broken I was.

He gradually led me deeper, keeping a comfortable hold on my hand. I didn’t fear the water or the depths. I was actually a really good swimmer, and didn’t need his hand for physical support, but I knew that wasn’t why he maintained the light grip. Looking out to the horizon, I tried to hold onto this sense of peace. I knew too damn well how fragile it was.

“How long do I have here?” I asked. “When did Mzatal say you have to bring me back?”

“He did not specify,” Helori replied. “It will fall to us to decide.”

My brow furrowed. “Us? What are you talking about?”

The syraza chimed softly. “Us. You and me. We will decide when to return.”

Frowning, I struggled to process this, but I couldn’t think straight enough for it to make sense. “Why would Mzatal let mehave any say in when I returned?”

“You have allof the say,” Helori told me. “With me as guidance for as much as you will accept. You are not his prisoner.”

I stared at him, then laughed. “Oh, right. Is that what he told you?”

“Mzatal did not need to tell me,” Helori said as he led me a little deeper. “I know this. You are not a prisoner, and I am not your guard. He would have you work with him, but he will not force it.”

I stopped and turned to face him. “What if I never wanted to touch the arcane again?” Because there was a part of me that was considering exactly that. I’d had more than my fill of arcane shit.

His amethyst eyes were deep upon me. “It is most certainly a choice you can make, though it is not a choice you must make now in this moment. Should you choose to shun the arcane, you would still not be a prisoner.”

The syraza was completely serious, I realized. I shook my head as I tried to mentally reconfigure everything. “Then why…” I trailed off, struggled to get my thoughts straight. “But he was going to kill me.”

Helori took both my hands in his. “It was a very present possibility on several occasions, yes,” he said with full honesty. “In the early instances, for the preservation of the realm. In the instance prior to your surprising departure, to keep you from the hand of Rhyzkahl, though in doing so it protected the realm as well.”

“And what if he decides the realm needs protecting again?” I asked quietly.

The syraza seemed to look intome. “He would do what he must,” he replied, not lying—which, I supposed, was better than a line of bullshit. “He takes his stewardship quite seriously. However, I know him well. With all that has happened, he will do everything in his power to see that it does not come to that.”

“But how am I supposed to live knowing that at any moment he could?” I asked, deeply shaken. “And would?” Was I safe anywhere?

Helori lowered his head, gaze intensifying. “That is a question only you can answer. You know something of what is possible on a personal level from your time as a guardian of others.” I knew he was referring to my career as a police officer. “Answer for yourself what you would want in such a situation. Answer for yourself if you knew many others would die so that you may live. Speak to Mzatal of it. He will not lie to you and will tell you precisely where he stands. And you can tell him precisely where you stand.”

Even though I understood Helori, and agreed, I still felt myself trembling at the thought of having such a conversation with Mzatal. “I’m not ready to do that.” I’d never be able to hold myself together for a talk like that. Not now, not feeling so fucked up. Will I ever be not fucked up?I couldn’t even imagine it.

“No, you are not ready,” he said. “And you do not need to be yet. We will not return until you feel more yourself. And I will care for you until then. You have my word on that.”

Throat tight, I nodded as the truth of it wound around me like a warm blanket. Pulling away from his hand, I turned away. I knew I was about to start crying, and I quickly ducked under the water to get my face wet so it wasn’t so obvious. I didn’t want to have to deal with any of the shit that went along with crying, like being comforted, or anything like that.

“I want to swim,” I told him, and didn’t wait for a response before diving into an oncoming swell.

He didn’t appear to take any sort of offense. He retreated to the beach with a smile then took to the air in a graceful leap. Probably to better watch over me, I supposed, while I did my swimming and crying thing.

I continued until I was fairly tired out—which didn’t take all that long since I was still recovering from a lot of crap. I made my way back up to the beach. Though Helori wasn’t in sight, he had spread out a blanket beneath the shade of trees as large as oaks, but with graceful draping limbs like a willow. I still felt empty, but in a slightly better way than before.

A pile of neatly folded dry clothing lay on the blanket. I changed quickly, grateful to Helori for the consideration. A few minutes later, he landed neatly in the sand a few yards away.

“The water is lovely, yes?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said with a small smile. “It’s pretty awesome.”

He crouched near me. “You chose one of my favorite destinations for swimming.”

I gave him a puzzled look. “ Ichose?”

“Yes, you chose.” His mouth curved into a syraza-smile. “You let the grove know what you wanted, even if you did not realize it.”

I processed that for a few seconds. “It’s nice and calm here.”

“And it is safe.” He placed a three-fingered hand on my arm. “Would it trouble you if I changed to human form?”

“No,” I replied. “I’ve seen Eilahn do it. Do you need help?”

“Thank you, Kara. I am able to change independently, as can all of the Elders.” He stood. “It is the younger syraza who need assistance.”

He stretched his wings out as far as they would go, then pulled them in tightly, at the same time drawing a gauzy cloth from…elsewhere. “It is a fascinating process,” he said. “You should tell me if Hollywood special effects are better than the real thing,” he added with a syraza-laugh.

I made mental note of his casual Earth references and understandings. I’d seen Eilahn shift, but Helori’s was a seamless morph that kicked the ass of any CGI. Only a few seconds later he smiled at me from a human face, then drew the gauze cloth around his waist and tucked it in a fluid motion. About the height of Mzatal, lean and lithe, he wouldn’t have stood out in a crowd. That kind of surprised me since Eilahn was an absolute knockout in human form, and most of the lords seemed pretty damn good-looking. He did have the same multi-racial quality as Eilahn, but it served to make him blend rather than stand out.

He came over to sit cross-legged on the blanket, then planted his elbows on knees and chin on fists as he peered at me. “Hungry? Thirsty? Sleepy?”

“Not sleepy,” I said. “Tired, but not sleepy. I could eat, though.”

He seemed to go distant for a moment, then reached and drew cheese, a knife, and a round loaf of bread from…elsewhere and set them all before me. That was a pretty cool trick.

“I’ll be right back.” He winked, leapt up, and disappeared into the trees. I watched him go, then cut some bread and cheese and began to eat. A few minutes later Helori returned and deposited a double handful of cranberry-looking things on the blanket. “That should help tame your appetite,” he said with a smile.

Trusting that he wouldn’t give me anything nasty, I tried one and found it to be sweet and juicy, with a texture like a cross between an apple and grape. “These are good,” I said. “Thanks.”

Helori dropped to sit beside me again. “I do realize that what the demon realm calls ‘good’ may be ‘horrendous’ on Earth. I will do my best to offer only tasty tidbits, though I encourage you to always test because I might misjudge.” He grinned.

“Will do.” I held up a berry. “These look a lot like cranberries. My aunt and I string cranberries and popcorn garlands for the Christmas tree every year.” Lowering my hand, I let out a soft sigh. “I’m still hoping to make it back home for Christmas this year.”

“That is only a couple of weeks away,” he replied, obviously familiar with the Earth date. I made a mental note of that. “Perhaps with an escort,” he continued, “but not alone, not that soon.”

I popped the berry into my mouth and nodded. “Eilahn made me promise not to leave my house or another warded place until I could summon her back.”

“She is wise for her youth and quite devoted.” He glanced over at me. “She would not be denied in her determination to go to you.”

“I thought Rhyzkahl asked her to go,” I said, surprised.

“Well, yes he did.” Helori’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “Though it became his idea to do so through the counsel of Olihr, who conspired with Eilahn.”

My surprise deepened. “But why? I mean, how could she possibly know about me, let alone want to be my protector?”

“Your existence became well known among the syraza as soon as you brought Rhyzkahl through the first time,” he told me. “She touched in to the impression and resonated instantly.”

“That’s…wow.” Amazed and deeply flattered, I had no idea what to say about that. “I do like her very much.”

“Good!” he said with a chuckle. “Because I think you’re stuck with her. Though Eilahn alone is not adequate protection for you yet.”

“I know how to be careful.” But a frown tugged at my mouth. Being careful hadn’t helped me the past few days, had it? “My house and the police station are warded like crazy.” I could take care of myself at home. Yeah, I’d have to become a hermit, but it would be worth it simply to be back.

Helori wasn’t smiling anymore. “You know how to be careful in your old paradigm,” he said, serious. “It served well enough for a time with Zakaar and Eilahn watching over you, and limited interest in you from other than Rhyzkahl. You are known now, so that interest is no longer limited. Others will seek you, and you are yet unschooled in the arcane beyond basics.”

A sick knot began to form in my gut. “What are you saying, Helori? That I can’t go home?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m saying that you need to be far better prepared before going home. Even a brief visit before then would require an escort in addition to Eilahn, and it would still be inadvisable.”

“Okay, so I’ll summon more demons,” I said, desperately clinging to the comforting thought of getting away from this place soon. “I’ll owe favors if I have to.”

He reached and laid a hand on my arm. “You have had a brief glimpse of the work that Idris does, yet you comprehend only a fraction of it,” he said with quiet insistence. “You know now that there is so much more apart from rudimentary Earth-side summoning. You need expanded skills, and you have the resources, now, to acquire them.”

My eyes dropped to my hands in my lap. The low breeze stirred my shirt, brushing the fabric against the scars covering my torso. A nameless dread rose within me. “I can’t stay here,” I said hoarsely. “My aunt and my friends, they don’t know what happened to me. They don’t know if I’m alive or dead.”

“They can be notified through Gestamar, when next he is summoned,” Helori said quietly.

I let out a harsh laugh utterly devoid of humor. “Yeah, that’d be some letter home. ‘Hey, y’all, weather’s great here. Miss you tons. Oh, by the way, I got the shit tortured out of me, and everything’s all fucked up. Write soon!’”

“They would know you lived,” was his gentle reply. “Your choice to stay here and learn is critical, Kara. To best protect those on Earth, as well as yourself, you need to be as strong and capable as possible. Zakaar will most certainly be watching over your friends and family in your absence, though his primary focus is Ryan.”

I heard what he was saying. I would put everyone in danger if I returned home. Not just myself. Heartsick, I let the hope of going home anytime soon crumble to ash.

Helori shifted his hand from my arm to the base of my throat, touching the sigil carved there.

I drew back. “Don’t. Don’t touch them.”

He kept his hand extended toward the sigil. “You must look,” he urged. “You must know.”

I stiffened. “I’ve seen them.”

“You will not even glance at them now.” His eyes darkened with concern. “They are a part of you. You need to knowthem.”

“I know them, I promise,” I said, voice cracking. “I remember every agonizing instant that went into the making of them. Every day, for the rest of my life, I get to have the reminder of how stupid and gullible I was.”

He shifted to crouch beside me, looking every inch the syraza even though he was in human form. “You can use them to remind you of that, or you can use them to remind you, every moment of every day, of how strong you are to have thrived despite the motherfucker’s best efforts to destroy you.” He cocked his head, dropped his eyes to the scars that showed above the neckline of my shirt. “I look at them and see tenacity and strength. You need to know whatRhyzkahl put on you, not just that he put them on.”

I scrubbed at my face. “I look back at my time with him and see all the hints and clues that I should’ve picked up on.”

“When you first realized his intentions, what did you feel?” Helori asked quietly.

My lower lip quivered despite all efforts to maintain control. “I was…I don’t know. I was disappointed.” I scowled. “That was my main feeling. So fucking disappointed that he turned out to be such a…” Shaking, I took a deep breath and screamed it: “FUCKING DICK!”

Searing anger rose, near startling me with how foreign the sensation seemed after being so long immersed in panic and fear. I’d been ready to direct the anger at myself, yet now I knew that wouldn’t do me any good. Iwas the goddamn victim.

“Were he standing here right now,” Helori said, “what would you do?”

I swiped at my eyes, not surprised to find that I was crying. “I sure as hell wouldn’t scream anything. Not even a choice name.” I took a deep breath. “I won’t scream for him anymore. I’ve screamed too much for him already.” My gaze drifted to a flock of iridescent green sea birds swooping and diving into the water. Last time I’d seen a flock wheeling, I’d been in the gazebo at Rhyzkahl’s. “I hate him. He’s less than scum.” Then I smiled very slightly as I returned my attention to Helori. “But if he was standing right here, I might very well kick him really hard in the goddamn balls.”

A whisper of a smile touched his face.

I drew a deep breath and then blew it out. “Mzatal healed my body,” I continued. “Nothing hurts anymore.” I toyed with a patch of sand that had made its way onto the blanket, drew random patterns in it while I spoke. “The problem with healing my body of the injuries is that my mind feels like it should be healed as well.” I paused. “It’s not. It’s just as stretched and twisted and shattered as my shoulders were. I can be a real tenacious bitch.” I shook my head, gulped. “But this…. It’s like I’m barely holding onto myself.”

“Yes. I know,” Helori said. “It is why I proposed this time away for you. It is why we are here—to help you regain that hold.”

“ Youproposed it?” I gave him a puzzled look.

“Mzatal was exhausted and truly confounded about how to expediently work with the loss of yourself.” He gave me a gentle smile. “I offered this as a possible means.”

“Thanks,” I said softly. “I didn’t even know you before this.”

“As I said, once you summoned Rhyzkahl single-handedly, you became known among the syraza,” he said, then chuckled low. “And now you are getting to know something of me, though that can be a blessing and a curse.”

I laughed weakly. “I’m infamous. Great.”

My gaze returned to the gull-things. I could do this now. I hadto do this now. Hands shaking and heart pounding, I shifted to kneel. I grabbed my shirt before I could panic and change my mind, then practically ripped it and my bra off and threw them aside. Breathing shallowly, I knelt half-nude before him.

Helori traced a sigil in the air above us. I flinched before realizing it was just the damn pygah, then scowled at my reaction.

“Be gentle on yourself,” he murmured. “As he was not.” He traced three more sigils around the pygah and set it spinning slowly above us.

“I made it this far, didn’t I?” I replied, though my voice quavered. The resonance of the pygah combined with the other sigils to form an almost palpable cocoon of calm. Slowly, I unclenched my hands, though I still wasn’t ready to look at the pygah or myself yet.

He took gentle hold of my left wrist, straightened my arm, and held it nearly straight out from my shoulder, so that I didn’t have to look down to see the scar where the mark used to be. “Look first here,” he said. “The first evidence of your betrayal.”

Ghostly echoes of the essence agony shimmered through me as I forced my eyes to the long, rippled scar. Sweat stung my armpits. “The fucker,” I whispered.

“He knew when he placed the mark that he meant to use you,” he told me. “Though the way you were used shifted from the original intent.”

My gaze rose to him. “Shifted? What do you mean?”

Helori lowered my arm. “You were initially slated to be used to retrieve Vsuhl, and then to die in a ritual to create a permanent gate to Earth,” he said. “Your value changed once Rhyzkahl became aware of your grove affinity.” He stroked a thumb lightly over the scar on my forearm, then looked back up to my face. “That affinity made you far more valuable and useful, and thus they chose to make you a thrall, so you could be a long-term tool for their use. You would have been powerful, utterly compliant, and obliviously content.”

I’d heard some of this from Rhyzkahl during the ritual, but here, away from the torment, it abruptly clicked into place. “That son of a bitch,” I breathed. I’d never been able to understand why Amkir had treated me with such open hostility from the moment I met him, nor why Rhyzkahl had left me and not intervened in the altercation sooner. It was a test, I realized. Those assholes had set me up. I’d told Rhyzkahl about using the grove power on Mzatal, and they wanted to see if I could do it again.

My anger rose, and I let it keep going, let it burn away at the panic and fear. I scowled up at the pygah, tempted to bat it away. I didn’t want to be calm right now. I dropped my gaze back to Helori. “Tell me about these sigils.”

“United, they are a key to the potency of this world,” he said while dissipating the pygah. “The ritual was not completed, and so this purpose was thwarted.”

I listened carefully, jaw tight. “Why twelve?”

“The twelfth is the unifier, but the ritual failed before it was ignited.”

“So, a sigil for each lord?” I asked.

“Yes, one for each, plus the unifier,” he said, watching me closely.

“Tell me,” I said, holding my anger close to me like armor. “Tell me about each one.”

Helori shifted forward, touched the sigil over my sternum and part of my breasts—the first that Rhyzkahl had carved. “This one represents Mzatal, laid as an anchoring presence for the rest.”