Touch of the Demon

The next couple of days flew by unnoticed as he led me through grueling preparatory practices of how to manage and channel the potency flows. Some of it was familiar—refinements on known techniques—and some completely new. But by the end of the week we were both satisfied that I was ready for the next step.

Mzatal had told me that the shikvihr could only be taught by a lord, and the same held true for floaters. I thought that simply meant it wasn’t allowed to be taught by others. I was wrong. A summoner required direct initiation from a lord to shape floaters. I could see, but not influence the needed potency strands. He explained that first, a summoner had to have an innate capacity to control potency combined with acquired skill. If those prerequisites were met, then it was simply a matter of fine-tuning what was already there, which was successful about half the time. I’d already been assessed through the first part, so all that remained was the second, which he accomplished in about ten minutes of holding my hands clasped between his. I didn’t feel any different, but I could sure as hell touch the strands afterwards.

He asked if I wanted to wait until the next day for the actual floaters since it was so late, but I knew the sooner I could get this shit down, the better, so I opted to forge ahead. Besides, I was pretty damned excited to try it. A couple of hours later, I had the kick-all-the-ass, mind-blowing “aha!” breakthrough on the floaters, and by dawn could lay consistent anchors and had a grasp on tracing multi-sigil series.

“And now it is time for you to sleep,” Mzatal told me, giving me one of his this-is-not-up-for-discussion looks when I began to protest that I was fine and could keep working. I closed my mouth, gave him a sheepish grin, and nodded assent instead.

“Come to the workroom at the mid-afternoon tone,” he said. “We will go to my nexus point and begin work directly related to recovering Szerain’s blade.”

I blinked in surprise. “I’m ready for that?”

“This is not the actual recovery, nor is it even part of the seeking,” he explained. “However, what we do will determine how we will construct those rituals in order to best utilize your unique energy signature.”

I wanted to quiz him more, but he turned me bodily and pushed me toward the bedroom. “Get in bed and sleep,” he ordered.

“Pushy fucker,” I muttered, but did as he commanded and was asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow.

After sound sleep, a bath, and plenty of food, I headed down to the workroom a little earlier than the appointed time so that I could practice all of the new stuff on my own. After about half an hour, Ilana came in and peered expectantly at me.

“You are ready?” she asked, her lovely chiming as soothing as ever.

I gave her a puzzled look. “Yeah, I guess. You’re working with us today?”

“Only to transport you to the beach,” she said with a delicate flutter of wings. “Mzatal is still in the plexus and will be here momentarily,”

I nodded and finished the sigil I was practicing, then shifted my attention to her. “Ilana, what’s the deal with Zack AKA Zakaar? Is he as off-the-charts insane as Rhyzkahl?” He’d never shown any signs of treachery but then neither had Rhyzkahl before I’d arrived in his realm. The thought of Jill, Ryan, and Tessa at the mercy of a Rhyzkahl devotee gnawed at me.

Ilana shook her head. “Zakaar is demahnk—an Elder like Helori, like me. He is separated from Rhyzkahl for two reasons, one being that he stood resolutely against Rhyzkahl’s choices several decades ago.”

“And the other?” I asked. “Or is that something you’re not allowed to talk about?”

“He chose a guardianship, also because of Rhyzkahl’s actions.”

I tugged a hand through my hair, grimacing. “Zack is close to a friend of mine. Is she safe with him?” That he was one of the elder syraza eased much of my concern, but I really needed to hear it straight from Ilana.

She moved in close and laid her hand on my arm. “If this is one he has chosen to protect, she could not be safer. Zakaar is the most resolute of us all.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Thanks.” I still had plenty to worry about around my friends and family, but at least I could put Zakaar’s being a diabolical fiend on the back burner.

Mzatal entered, one hand behind his back and a document in the other. He wore all black today, a mid-thigh tunic-coat, pants, and boots. Strands of metallic gold woven through his complex braid were his only ornamentation.

“Afternoon, Boss,” I said, giving him a quick smile.

“Good afternoon, Kara,” he said, his eyes traveling over me in a quick assessment of who-knew-what as he moved close to Ilana. He held up the glyph-covered paper. “Today we will attempt the first ring of the beacon ritual at the nexus.”

“Cool.” I stepped in close. I’d done enough travel with Helori to know the drill. I felt no small relief that we were going to the beach this way, since I’d learned from Jekki and Faruk that the standard way down was by about a billion stairs along the cliff face.

A heartbeat later we arrived on a high beach of tumbled rock and black sand nestled in a curve of the cliffs just south of Mzatal’s palace. Ahead, more stairs led down to a lower sandy beach where I saw Idris kneeling in the light surf, splashing water over his head. I assumed he’d come down the cliff stairs, but why? About fifty yards to the right, the waterfall cascaded with a roar into a deep sea-pool. Off to the left stood a circular platform of basalt surrounded by eleven dark columns. Apart from color, it was a near match to the pavilion in Szerain’s courtyard. This was Mzatal’s nexus. He strode immediately toward it, glancing back at me with a jerk of his head to indicate I should follow. I did so. I didn’t have the faintest idea what I would need to do, but I was more than ready to do it.

I stepped up onto the stone next to Mzatal, then threw out my hands as a wave of vertigo struck. Whoa. It was like stepping into a slowly spinning vortex. Szerain’s nexus had felt like it was sleeping, but this baby was definitely awake.

Mzatal caught my arm and held it for the moment it took me to accustom myself to the energies. “This afternoon is about experimentation, determining the ideal configuration for the base ring of the beacon diagram,” he said, a bare hint of eagerness in his voice as though the task itself or the method excited him. “Come.”

I followed him to the center, mild uneasiness coiling through me, though I couldn’t put my finger on why.

He turned to face me. “I spent time in the plexus seeking any sign that Rhyzkahl has activated a ritual recently, but found none,” he said with a last glance at the paper he held before tucking it away in a pocket.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yes. Very good. And as we progress, it will be our goal to minimize disruptions in the potency flow so that we do not alert him to our work until absolutely necessary. For now, Idris and I will monitor that aspect until you are ready.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said with a nod. I had no idea how to keep flows low-profile, but I was confident he’d teach me what I needed to know. Yeah, like I was confident Rhyzkahl would send me home? I shoved the thought aside. This was nothing like that. Right?

“As soon as possible, we will create the beacon here to locate Vsuhl,” he said. He turned a slow circle, his eyes traveling over the platform and the columns. “Now we must determine how best to integrate your unique energy signature into the calling. I have laid out the initial parameters.” He patted the pocket that held the paper.

I peered up at him. “And since that’s theory only, you want to know how it works in a live setting.” That made sense, though the part about integrating my signature spiked my uneasiness. Am I being as naïve about Mzatal as I was about Rhyzkahl? An insistent thread of doubt twisted through me.

“Yes,” he said with a nod and a quick smile. I had the feeling we were in his element, something he actually enjoyed. “We seek the bridge between theory and practical application.” He rapidly traced a line of eleven floaters in front of us. “What do you see as the commonality between these three sections?” he asked, indicating the sections, then glancing at me.

Damn. A test. I examined the series and, to my relief, found a small link. “Well, the lateral vectors correlate.”

His mouth drew into a tight line, and his brow furrowed. Crap. That obviously wasn’t the answer he was looking for. I had a feeling my answer was about as dumb as saying that the commonality between a group of typed words was that the ink was black. With a pass of his hand along the line, he ignited the sigils, then moved behind me. “This may help you to see more clearly. Pygah with your eyes closed and feel the series. Then open your eyes and see what correlations you find.”

I felt as if I’d been handed an exam I hadn’t studied for, and it must have shown.

Mzatal laid his hand briefly on my shoulder. “This is not a test, Kara. I know that I am missing an aspect, and I want to determine what you can see in order to fill that gap.”

Well, that was a new one. With a slight frown, I moved to the exact center of the line of sigils and followed Mzatal’s instructions, very aware of his presence behind me. I extended my senses and felt into the series, then opened my eyes, finding it more vibrantly clear now. I smiled, feeling not only the common harmony between the sections, but the delicate relationships between individual sigils. “It’s not really about the sections. Each sigil is connected to every other sigil, some doubly so.”

Mzatal stepped up beside me, clasped his hands behind his back, and squinted at the line. “Show me.”

I saw Idris watching a couple of feet from the edge of the platform, frowning slightly, hair dripping seawater.

Was this part of some strange game Mzatal was playing? Except it sure felt sincere. I traced several of the sigil strands with my index finger. “See? These are the doubles. And here are the singles,” I said, as I pointed them out. “They have a different resonance that feels…off.”