Touch of the Demon

And here I’d thought he was a humorless fuck. “What can I say? I have a unique outlook.”

“One I would not trade for anything.”

I turned and leaned on the railing to look out at the sea. Distant clouds shrouded the horizon, and flying creatures swooped along the cliff edge. A breeze brought the taste of salt and warmth. Mzatal moved to stand next to me, hip grazing mine.

I flicked a glance his way. “So, when do we go back to finding this stupid knife?”

A hint of amusement curved his mouth. “Vsuhl is far more than a stupid knife.”

“I’m not going to call a knife by a name. Especially one as silly as ‘Vsuhl,’” I teased with a roll of my eyes, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Is there anything else you name?”

The amusement increased, and he raised an eyebrow right back at me. “I have names for many things. But to answer your question, we begin as soon as Idris prepares.” He shifted to drape an arm over my shoulders. “But for now, I wish to enjoy the view. And the company.”

Smiling, I slipped an arm around his waist and leaned in to him. “They’re both pretty damn nice.”

Chapter 38

My favorite faas in the whole world crouched by the side of the bed with a mug of coffee cradled in his hands. I grinned and threw off the covers. “Oh, Jekki, if you weren’t already taken…”

Jekki tilted his head and gave me a confused burble. “Don’t mind me,” I said with a laugh as I pulled on a robe. “I’m punchy because I actually got a full night’s sleep. And here you are with coffee, ready and waiting!” The last couple of weeks had been psycho busy with training and ritual preparation, but thanks to a progress-halting snag yesterday, I had the luxury of much needed sleep. Okay, it kinda sucked that we’d run into a snag, but, damn, I actually felt halfway rested.

I glanced through the doorway to see Mzatal still sitting at the table in the outer chamber tracing sigils and making notes—exactly where he’d been when I went to bed. I snorted. “Let me guess. He’s been there all night and hasn’t eaten since, what, yesterday morning? The day before?”

“Ate bits, some, morning two days,” Jekki said, holding the coffee out to me.

I took the mug and sipped, then exhaled in pleasure. Jekki knew how to stay on my good side. “Right. Could you please bring a plate of fruit, some cheese, and a fresh jug of tunjen for him?” I asked. As Jekki turned to go, I added, “And a bowl of that honey custard stuff he likes.” If nothing else, maybe he’d eat that.

I followed the faas out into the main chamber. Mzatal glanced toward me with a faint smile as I set my coffee on the table and moved behind him, but then immediately returned his focus to the sigil before him.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and began to massage the tight muscles. “Take a break, Boss.”

Mzatal set the sigil spinning, then let out an exasperated sigh. “I still cannot determine the sequitur of this final series for the beacon, and we cannot proceed without it. All else is complete.” He scrubbed his hand over his face in a very rare gesture of frustration.

“Yeah, well, take a break and maybe it’ll come to you,” I said, continuing with the massage. “You sure as hell won’t figure it out when you’re tense and hungry and cranky.”

He exhaled a that-hurts-but-don’t-stop breath and dropped his head back to look up at me. “Tense, admittedly. Hungry, undeniably.” His expression turned doubtful with a hint of a smile. “Perhaps methodical, calculating, and focused. But cranky?”

I laughed. “Well, I rescind the cranky label for now, but only if you rest and eat,” I said. “I know you’re a big bad lord, but you still need food every once in a while.” I dug my thumbs into knotted muscles. “Cripes. How long have you been sitting here?”

“Since we concluded last night,” Mzatal said. He looked back to the floating sigil, dissipated it with a violent sweep of his arm, then sighed. “I should send for food.”

“Way ahead of you.” I smiled as Jekki and Faruk hopped in with a tray and jug. I gave his shoulders a final squeeze, then helped the two faas get the food onto the table. “Eat.”

Mzatal gestured toward my mug as he poured tunjen for himself. “And what of you? You have only had coffee again,” he noted.

“Coffee is the food of the gods,” I retorted as I snagged some cheese and a couple of grape-things.

“You do much enjoy it,” he said, selecting slices of fruit for his plate. “It is ubiquitous to Earth, yes?”

Taking a sip, I nodded. “It’s a huge industry, and there are shops devoted to little more than the sale of coffee in a variety of forms.” I let out a dreamy sigh. “Heaven.”

“It was relatively new to your world at the time of the cataclysm,” he said, “with only a century or so of any significant distribution. Once the ways opened again, I had not considered it until I noted your obsession, then discovered its use to be widespread.”

“It’s not an obsession,” I said, grinning. “It’s an addiction. Get it right.”

Mzatal smiled. “Obsession with an addiction.” He reached over the cheese for the custard. “My favorite,” he said, raising the bowl slightly to me. “Dak lahn.”

I returned the smile, glad to see him eating. “I know.”

He lifted his eyes to mine, held the gaze for a moment. A sense of true appreciation came through to me before he started on the custard. “Idris has completed his work and now awaits me.” He shook his head. “I am no nearer a solution than I was last night.”

“Still on the final series for the beacon?”

He nodded. “The last three sigils are inharmonious, and I have yet to determine the cause.”

“Can’t you take a day and do something else, give your mind a break?” I asked. “You could come out and harass me by the column. I’m soooo close to finishing the damned first ring of the shikvihr.”

“It is likely you would were we to devote the day to it,” he said with an approving nod, then grimaced. “But time is short. If the beacon is not set within the next two days, we will be delayed another month, and that is unacceptable. All else is ready except this last series.”

I frowned. “Another month? Why?”

“The Earth full moon is four days hence,” he said. “The greatest chance of locating and binding Vsuhl is on that day, and the beacon must be completed and tended for at least two days prior in order to be optimally effective.”

I gave him my best utterly-baffled look. The high level of potency in the demon realm meant that rituals weren’t dependent on the moon cycle, and certainly not on the Earth moon cycle. “That makes no sense,” I said, perplexed. “What am I missing?”

He finished the custard and set the bowl aside. “Szerain is unrivaled in arcane innovation,” he said, tone shifting to one of casual conversation, as if he’d decided to discuss the weather. “Should he choose to hide something, it would not only be very cleverly hidden, but also linked to him. It would…resonate with him.” He reached for his mug of tunjen, took a long drink.

“Ohhh,” I said as comprehension dawned. Vsuhl was Sze rain’s blade. “So to track Vsuhl we’re purposefully coinciding with Earth’s highest potency time because Szerain is there.” Because of the stupid oath, Mzatal couldn’t come right out and say Szerain is on Earth, but I could. “Got it.”

“To correlate with the lunar full, I must complete this series today,” he said, a hint of the earlier frustration coloring his tone.

“That’s one hell of a time crunch,” I said with a grimace. “I wish I could help more.”

“You spent half the day yesterday working on it with me. This time it is my aspect that is not aligning,” he said with another deep sigh. But then he gave me a smile. “And today, you have fed me and eased the significant tension in my shoulders. That is much help, Kara.”

“Well I’m going to help even more by grabbing a bath now,” I said. “If Idris is free, I’ll make him run me through the first ring of the shikvihr until I get it. I’m ready to nail that thing.”

“Complete it,” he said with a warm smile, “and I will leave this accursed series to culminate the ring for you.”

I grinned. “Deal, Boss. That’s one way to get you to take a break.”

“Until then, though,” he said with a shake of his head, “I must refocus on this.” He traced a sigil and began adjusting strands on it. I didn’t remember it being in the series we’d worked on yesterday, but it wouldn’t be the first time I had less than a Full Clue.

I stood, picked up my cooling coffee, and took a long sip as I headed off toward the bedchamber. Something about the sigil nagged at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Yet I could feel, with increasing unease, every modification Mzatal made to it. Heart pounding unevenly, I turned and walked back to the table, set my mug down. Each adjustment of the sigil brought it closer and closer to—

I didn’t ask permission, simply reached out with a shaking hand to shift the axis of rotation of the sigil, then detached an outer strand and set the whole thing into a wobbling spin.

The sigil brightened and issued a low, throbbing tone that sent an itch through my bones. The air crackled palpably and audibly as though with static. Wrenching shoulder pain. The bite of the blade. The cold mask of his face.

Mzatal sucked in a sharp breath, stood and backed away so abruptly that he overturned his chair. I cried out as pain like fiery needles flared across my abdomen.

He swept the sigil away with a pass of his hand. The pain vanished but I still clutched at my belly, my breath coming in ragged bursts.

“It burned,” I managed to get out.

Mzatal moved swiftly behind me, dropped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me back against him. His other hand slid beneath mine to press against my abdomen where the scars of Jesral’s glyph still tingled.