Legacy of the Demon (29 page)

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Authors: Diana Rowland

BOOK: Legacy of the Demon
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Pellini's gaze focused beyond me. “We have company.”

I turned to see a demahnk a dozen feet away, pearlescent wings glimmering in the sunlight. Trask. My distress call through Rho had brought in the one-demahnk cavalry to pop the dimension bubble, but I had no idea if he was ally or enemy. “Hey, Trask.” I gave a casual wave and smile. “How's things?”

“Grievous, with the calamitous southern anomaly, Kara Gillian,” he said, his voice like soothing chimes. “Seretis is needed.” He remained cool as ever, giving no hint that anything was amiss, even though he'd just released me from the bubble and had to know by now that one of his fellow demahnk was gone. According to Zack, the demahnk lived in constant telepathic connection. Was Trask maintaining an implacable demeanor in order to protect enemy interests, or save his own skin, or snub me, or all of the above? Even a brief knowing look would have taken the edge off my unease.

Instead, my worry escalated. With Lannist out of the picture, how could Seretis possibly cope with day to day pressures, much less hidden enemies?

“I am ready.” Seretis stood at the garden entrance, one hand on the stone arch as if for support. A droplet of sweat trickled down the side of a face rigid with a megadose of focused control.

He fixed haunted eyes on mine. “I am ready.”

Those three little words told me everything I needed to know. Though the unthinkable loss of Lannist wasn't as overtly devastating as a broken bond, it still struck Seretis to the core. Yet he wasn't going to show any vulnerability. Not now. He was undeniably the most “human” of the lords I knew, but maybe that aspect contributed to his immense strength in the face of
adversity. Other lords considered Seretis a minor player. Kadir dismissed him as weak. They were wrong.

I gave him a nod. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

He approached, briefly placed a trembling hand on my shoulder, then continued past to Trask. A second later, they vanished.

“What got into him?” Pellini asked.

A vision rose of a distraught Seretis singing to soothe a panicked infant Kadir. “He's exhausted,” I said. “And he has no choice but to keep on fighting.” I blinked back tears and started toward the grove. “Let's pick up Michael and get out of here.”

Chapter 27

Cool sea air touched with the scent of conifers welcomed us upon our arrival in Mzatal's grove. I caught myself smiling as we trekked up the tree tunnel toward late afternoon sunlight. I'd missed this place more than I realized. “Pellini and I will go for Elinor's journal and search the upper levels . . .”

The rest of my words lodged in my throat as I stepped out of the grove. I was vaguely aware of Pellini catching my elbow to steady me. My chest squeezed tight, and a weird numbness crept through my whole body. Mzatal's palace still occupied the top of the sea cliff ahead, but it was all
wrong
. The balconies he loved and
needed
as a refuge from the confines of indoors had been sheered away, lost to the sea far below. The demon-glass that had given an all-window effect to the entire structure was gone as if blasted away from the inside out, leaving a stark skeleton of wood and basalt held together by arcane reinforcement. Where the waterfall should have cascaded from the midst of the palace to tumble to the sea pool far below, a sickly trickle of brown sludge stained the cliff face.

Someone was talking to me. Pellini. I felt his arm around my waist, supporting me.

“We can sit for a few,” he said gently. “Take it nice and slow.”

I wanted to collapse right there, sob my heart out and wallow in the bullshit unfairness of it all. But I couldn't. I
wouldn't
. Mzatal didn't have that luxury, and neither did I. Not as long as we still held hope for our worlds. I disengaged from Pellini, squared my shoulders, and swallowed the pain. “Better get moving,” I said, voice thick, and started down the basalt steps toward the palace.

Pellini didn't say a word as he followed, but I felt his eyes on my back.

“This place is a big ol' mess,” Michael said.

I glanced at him over my shoulder and plastered on a smile. “No worse than other places. And see? Mzatal has fixed it up a little with potency.”

“Mzatal's sad,” he said as we reached the bottom of the ravine and started the climb to the entrance.

“I'm sure he is.” I fought to keep my tone light. “It had to be hard to see his home destroyed.”

“I mean now, silly.”

I whirled. “You see him?”

He nodded earnestly. “Uh huh, but I dunno
where
he is.”

“What does it look like?” I resisted the urge to shake the details from him. “What's he doing?”

“He's smack dab in the middle of a big, black circle, sitting on one knee.” Michael squinched his eyes as if trying to see better. “There's a blue house and grass. He's going like this on the black part.” He wiggled and waved his fingers.

Emotion squeezed my chest. “That's my house.” Mzatal was on the nexus, in contact with my sigils. “Can you see anything else?”

“Nope, that's it. All gone now!” He continued past me up the steps.

I followed. “How do you know he was sad?”

“I just know,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Why was he sad? My worry ratcheted up a few more notches. We needed to finish up here and get the hell back to Earth ASAP.

A bellow came from off to our right. I looked to see a reyza swoop toward us from atop the column, the basalt pillar Mzatal used for arcane training.

“Incoming,” Pellini said, hand on his weapon.

“And it's not large enough to be Gestamar,” I said, shading my eyes.

“Summoner,” the reyza boomed as he overflew us.

“Kehlirik?” I called back in surprise. “What are you doing here?” Kehlirik was one of Rhyzkahl's demons, and the first reyza I'd ever summoned. With his amiable personality and passion for popcorn and Earth novels, he'd become my favorite demon to summon. Despite his ties to Rhyzkahl, I considered him as close to a friend as any demon, apart from Eilahn. In fact,
not long after Rhyzkahl betrayed me, he'd offered me subtle help during an ugly battle with the Mraztur.

“We good?” Pellini asked.

“I think so,” I said.

Kehlirik landed nearby, on an outcropping beside the palace entrance. “After the Sky Reaper clans overtook Rhyzkahl's realm, Gestamar and Ilana gave sanctuary to many of his sworn demons.”

I grimaced. “It sucks that you were driven out.”

“It is done. It is past.” He shook out his wings then folded them close. “We are here.”

“I'm glad to see you safe and unharmed.” I scanned the cliff and sky and palace roof. Not another demon to be seen. That was unusual. “Where are the others?”

“Ilana is at the southern pole with the anomaly, and all others are on patrol,” Kehlirik said. “I watch here. Mzatal's realm is well protected by arcane means, but he is away, and the Jontari are relentless.”

“I am grateful for your service, honored one,” I said. “I will see you again when we leave.”

Kehlirik gave a soft whistle of acknowledgement and took flight, buffeting us with his powerful upstroke.

“Let's get this done so we can go home,” I said to the others.

We continued through the open doorway of the palace and stopped in the central atrium. With all the windows gone, the floors abruptly ended in open space eighty stories above the rocky sea shore. Not a place to be wandering around at night without a flashlight. “Turek, Giovanni, and Michael. I need you to stay here, please.”

“I'll guard,” Michael said. “Don't worry.”

“Good deal,” I said with a smile. “Make sure no one gets too close to the edge. Turek, could I speak to you for a moment?” The demon dipped his head in assent, and we stepped away from the others. “Rhyzkahl gave me a description of the gimkrah, but I don't trust him. Do you know what it looks like?”

Turek let out a low hiss. “A transparent sphere with a nucleus of pulsing crimson, caged with bands of makkas.”

Huh. Rhyzkahl hadn't lied—about that much, at least. “Thanks. Pellini and I will be back soon.”

“Kara Gilliannnn!”

A faas streaked across the room to excitedly twine around
and through my legs like an oversized meth-crazed cat, sending us both into a chaotic tumble of limbs and blue fur.

“Jekki!” I squeezed him in a hug as he snuffled my face in greeting. “I didn't expect to see you here. Kehlirik told me all the demons were gone.”

Jekki snapped upright, quivering in outrage. “Dahn dahn dahn! Protect allllll inside. Tend Mzatal. Tend Janice Massi!”

Grinning, I clambered to my feet. “She's very lucky to have you taking care of her, but I bet she's ready to get home.” Even though Earth was a mess, I doubted the demon realm held fond memories for her.

Jekki cocked his head. “Is home here!”

“And a lovely home it is,” I said with a serious nod. “Can you take us to her?”

Chittering happily, Jekki sped down the broad spiral staircase, while Pellini and I followed at a more reasonable pace. I expected Jekki to stop on the next floor, since that's where the guest rooms were, but to my surprise the faas descended one more level.

“That's odd,” I said as Jekki darted down the corridor. “The practice summoning chamber is on this floor.”

Pellini gave me a sharp look. “Why would Mzatal have her here? Unless she's a summoner?”

“That's what I'm wondering.” I cleared my throat. “Hey, Jekki?” I waited for the faas to race back to us. “Is Janice a summoner?”

His sinuous tail thrashed. “No summon!”

“Okay, can she use the arcane?”

“Dahn, no sigils! No arcane! Other skills!” With that he turned on his tail and dashed to the broad doors of the practice chamber.

Pellini snorted. “Yeah, I'll
bet
she has other skills.”

I elbowed him in the side. “Hush.”

He chuckled under his breath. “You were thinking it, too.”

“Shut up.” For good measure, I elbowed him again. Didn't help that he was right.

Bouncing eagerly, Jekki pulled the door open. Beyond him, a dark-haired woman crouched near the center of the room, head bent in obvious concentration as she tightened a screw on a contraption of wood and wires.

As I stepped in, she straightened and turned to face me with
narrowed eyes. Her ethnicity seemed to be a mix of middle-eastern and African, but where I'd been expecting a stunning young beauty of some variety—or at least a lush body—this woman was nothing of the sort. Not only was she easily in her late forties, she looked, well, ordinary. Normal. She wasn't unattractive, yet she didn't
quite
make it to pretty. And her figure was average as well. Not particularly buxom or slender or even curvy. She was the kind of woman I saw a hundred times a day. Not at all the physical type I imagined would be hand-picked for sex trafficking to the demon realm.

“Janice?” I asked, just to be sure.

“Yes, I'm Janice Massi.” Her wary gaze flicked to Pellini then returned to me.

“I'm Kara Gillian, and this is—”

“I know who you are.” Her tone held zero friendliness.

I kept the smile on my face. I completely understood donning prickly armor as a means to cope with trauma. She'd probably heard of me through Rhyzkahl or Mzatal. “Then that saves us from a boring round of introductions. Anyway, we're here to take you back to Earth.” I winced. “If you want, that is. Things are pretty hairy back there.”

Janice glanced at her contraption then turned that penetrating gaze on me again. “Rhyzkahl.” She lifted her chin, expression fierce. “He's with you on Earth?”

“Yes, but don't worry. You won't have to see him.”

“I
will
see him,” she said, voice intense.

“Fair enough.” At least he hadn't broken her spirit. She deserved the chance to give him a piece of her mind if she wanted—and I'd sure as hell grab any chance to eavesdrop on that particular exchange. “We'll be leaving soon,” I said. “Hopefully, no longer than an hour.”

“I'll be ready,” she snapped then stalked to the door, bumping my shoulder with hers on the way out.

Pellini and I watched her go.

“She's going to need a
lot
of therapy,” I said with a sigh.

“With any luck it'll be right after she rips Rhyzkahl's balls off,” Pellini muttered.

“Can't say I'd blame her if she did.” I crouched before Jekki and did my best imitation of a faas chitter-click to get his full attention. “Jekki, this is really important. Do you know where Mzatal keeps the master gimkrah?”

He cocked his head. “Dahn. Secret for Mzatal. Mzatal keep safe!”

“Thanks, Jekki,” I said with a pained smile. “Good to know it's nice and safe.” Jekki was utterly loyal, damn it. Any attempt to wheedle, cajole, or force one of Mzatal's secrets out of him would be a waste of time and breath. I scritched the top of his head and straightened.

“At least it's not gone,” Pellini said. His expression turned puzzled as he examined Janice's contraption. “Is this a
seismograph
?”

“Huh?” I moved closer to peer at it. A flat base supported an upright piece of wood, from which jutted another, longer arm of wood. A pen at the end of the arm drew a wavy line on a roll of paper, and closer inspection revealed a clever little bit of arcane that unwound the roll at a slow and steady rate. The whole thing was about the size of a carry-on suitcase. “I think you're right.” I reached toward the paper then yanked my hand back at Jekki's screech.

“No touch!” The tip of his tail vibrated. “Janice Massi every day watches! Much every day! Watches all!”

“All what?” I asked.

“All!” He waggled his four hands at the device. “All ga-jits! All places!”

“Gadgets? What are they for?”

“To seeeeeeee moves.” With that, Jekki zipped off, apparently confident that he'd explained sufficiently.

Pellini let out a low whistle. “It
is
a seismograph.”

“Go figure. We can find out what the deal is from Janice.” I grimaced. “If she'll even talk to me. At least I know where Elinor's journal is. Let's get that out of the way, then we can tackle the gimkrah problem.”

We made our way upstairs to the hazy arcane veil that marked the arch entrance to Mzatal's personal floor.

Pellini shook his head. “I should probably wait downstairs while you look for the stuff,” he said, turning to head back the way we came. “I can check on Michael and the others, too.”

“Are you kidding?” I stared at his retreating back. “No! It'll take twice as long to search on my own. Plus, I'll need your input if I run into anything arcane.” I sucked in a breath. “Crap! Pellini, wait! It's Mzatal's aversions. They're affecting you.” This area was heavily warded, albeit “tuned” to allow me full
access. I was so used to the veil and the wards that crawled over the arch that I hadn't paid any attention to them.

Pellini stopped then pivoted, face set in a grimace of willpower as he made his way back to me. “Wonderful,” he grumbled. “Even if I could push past the aversions, I'd get zapped hard.”

“Killed,” I corrected. “So, not the best plan. But it's cool. I have ‘admin access' and can alter the wards enough to get you in . . . Shit.” My throat tightened. “Except I can't manipulate the arcane.” I was worlds away from the super-shikvihr on my home nexus, which meant I couldn't tap into the potency. And since these wards were attuned to
me
, Pellini couldn't act as my proxy.

“Damn,” Pellini said with a sigh. “This'll really slow us down. Sorry, Kara.”

The wards shimmered, bright and tantalizing. It was so stupid and frustrating. I could
see
exactly what needed to be done, which loops to adjust, what aspects to shift, where to add Pellini's resonance.

The coil of an aversion twitched. “Hang on,” I said. It might have been coincidence or . . .

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