Touch of the Demon (41 page)

Up. And more up. On the fourth switchback, I stopped to catch my breath, hands on my hips, thighs burning like crazy. I looked up and immediately realized that ignorance was indeed bliss. Still a helluva long way to the top.
Shit!
I tried to nurse the anger, but it slid away to a simmer, my body demanding the lion’s share of my attention. A glimpse of blue caught my attention from a couple of switchbacks up. Possibly a faas heading down, I figured.

I leaned back against the cliff, both to rest a bit and to keep well away from the edge since, at this point, it was like being on a ledge of a twenty-story building. I had a healthy respect for though not a particular fear of heights, but this was definitely pushing the envelope.

I took a deep breath, did the count and the pygah. When I opened my eyes, Faruk hopped down the last few steps to my switchback and stood vibrating before me, a plastic sports bottle—very obviously from Earth—clutched between its hands.

“Tunjen for youuuuuuu, Kara Gillian,” the faas said, holding the bottle out to me.

“Thanks,” I said with an unsteady smile, realizing how much I really needed this right now. Faruk hopped up and down, teeth bared, then ran up the stairs on all six legs as though running on flat ground. For a second, I considered sitting, then decided against it. The way this day was going, it’d be against the rules, and I’d have to do the whole thing over or something stupid like that. Sighing, I lifted the bottle to drink and saw it had my name painted on it in delicate gold letters. I couldn’t help but smile a bit at that.

Reluctantly, I shoved off the wall and tackled the stairs again, thighs seriously shrieking. Walking tomorrow was going to be fun.
I hate this shit
.

On the last switchback, I sat heavily on a step, panting. My legs were shredded, so sitting and counting
really
slowly felt like the best plan. Screw the consequences. To my great annoyance, as I finished my count and pygah, Idris bounded up from below, grinning and sweating.

“Best view ever!” he said as he dropped into a squat beside me and began a quiet and methodical count.

“Yeah. Great view,” I muttered, giving him a doubtful look. With a groan I couldn’t suppress, I heaved myself to
my feet and continued up the last section. I kept close to the wall, thankful that there was only a light breeze and no gusts. Holy shit, but this was seriously high.

“Kara! Hug the wall,” Idris called out from below. “I’ll be passing on the left.”

“Yeah. No problem there, dude.” I pressed my back against the wall to make absolutely sure I was out of the way, not at all liking the thought of getting knocked off these stairs.

Idris, the bastard, dashed up the steps, sometimes two at a time, obviously familiar with their varying heights. He passed me with a stopwatch in his hand and his face set with fierce determination and focus.

Frowning, I watched until he reached the top, my emotions churning between admiration and feeling even more inadequate. My throat went horribly tight. I sank to sit on a step and looked out over the ocean. I tried to hold it back, tried not to be a baby, but I couldn’t. There was too much. I gave in and let it flow in a full blown sob-fest. Lonely. Homesick. Missing everyone. Totally stressed out. Betrayed. Recovering from torture. Stuck here. Unsure of where I stood. All of it came up.

After several minutes I finally got my shit somewhat together and wiped my eyes. Letting out a long sigh, I dragged myself up and somehow managed to finish the climb, subdued and with
everything
hurting. To my dismay, as I reached the top, I saw Idris hurrying toward me. My eyes burned and felt swollen.
Damn it
. I sighed and plastered on a smile. Maybe it would pass for just being flushed from exercise.

But no. He moved in close, brow deeply creased with worry. “Um, Kara, you okay?”

“I’m good,” I said, plodding up the trail toward the palace without stopping. “Tired. That’s all. Lots of stairs, and I’m an out of shape clod.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot of stairs. You did
great
making it to the top!” He hovered beside me, a spring in his step as if he hadn’t recently bounded up, what, fifty plus stories?

I knew he didn’t mean it to be as patronizing as it sounded, but damn. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks,” I managed. “So, uh, Mzatal does this kind of thing a lot? Assigning exercise?”

“Yeah, he did at first for me,” Idris replied with a shrug. “I pretty much do it on my own now, though he’ll still come up with stuff sometimes.”

“You look like you’re in pretty good shape.” My legs didn’t want to move, but I trudged on. I didn’t want to lose what little momentum I had.

“I wasn’t when I got here,” he said. “I mean, I wasn’t a slug or anything since Katashi kept me moving, but it really took off once I came to the demon realm.” He peered anxiously at me. “You wanna sit down for a bit? There’s a bench up ahead, and the sunset’s gonna be awesome.”

Even as wiped out as I was, I still had enough perception to know that sitting down with Idris and watching the sunset would probably send the wrong message. “No. Thanks. If I stop, I’ll never get moving again. I just want to get back and collapse.”

“Um, yeah. Sure,” he said, visibly losing a little of his spring and looking crestfallen. “It’s not much farther.”

“Thanks,” I said. I really wished he would go on without me, but I couldn’t come up with a damned thing to say that wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

Idris continued at my side, almost saying something several times, then, thankfully, not. Once we reached the atrium, he finally showed signs of going his own way. “I, uh, guess I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.

“Yeah. Thanks for walking with me.” I gave him a tired smile. “See ya, Idris,” I said as I turned for the stairs. More goddamn stairs. Yay.

“Bye, Kara,” he called out, and I could feel his eyes still on me.

I gave a final unenthusiastic wave without looking back and sighed in relief as I got out of his sight. And, even better, in another minute I’d be able to Stop Walking.

Mzatal sat at the table in the main chamber of his rooms, leafing through a journal. He’d changed from the black into a roomy blue brocade coat, and looked totally refreshed, his braid hanging over his shoulder now wound with silver instead of gold. The fucker.

He set the journal aside as I closed the door and gave me a gentle smile. “A long soak will feel good. Food will be waiting when you are finished.”

Something about the cover of the journal gave me a déjà
vu memory moment, but I couldn’t place it and was too damn tired to try to figure it out right then. I gave Mzatal a faint nod and headed straight to the bath chamber, shedding my clothes along the way. I sank to my neck in the deliciously warm water of the pool, then pulled myself onto the shelf that served for lounging and rested my head in the smooth dip made for that purpose. I didn’t want to fall asleep, I told myself as I closed my eyes, just rest a bit.

I jerked awake to my name being called and a hand on my shoulder. Mzatal. “Shit.”

Mzatal crouched at the edge of the pool, holding a towel spread before him, ready for me.

“Shit,” I said again as I willed my jellified muscles to drag me out of the bath. Mzatal wrapped the towel around me as soon as I stepped out, then picked up another.

“Thanks,” I said. “Sorry.” I gave him a rueful smile as he dried my shoulders and arms then scrunched the towel through my hair. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. That was stupid.”

“You are tired and have had a challenging day,” he said gently, not seeming in any way annoyed. “Come.” He put his arm behind me and very lightly urged me toward the bedchamber.

I didn’t resist. “Challenging.” I snorted. “Yeah, that’s a word for it.” I clutched the towel around me as he guided me to the bed and pulled the covers down. I frowned, wearily casting my gaze around the room. “I don’t know where my night things are.”

“They are in the dresser,” he said. “Though you may be more comfortable sleeping as you would at home. I will bring something for you to eat.” He turned and exited to the main room.

I blinked at his back, wondering how the hell he knew how I slept at home. Then again, probably not much of a stretch considering he knew plenty of other intimate details about me. I set the towel on the end of the bed. Screw it. He’d seen me naked plenty of times already, and I slept much better in the nude. I groaned as I crawled into the bed and pulled the covers up. Tomorrow would be a day of hurrrrrrt.

Mzatal returned a moment later carrying a plate of the yummy cat-turd-looking things and some sliced fruit, and a glass of tunjen juice. I sat up and tucked the sheet around
me as he held the glass out for me. “Drink at least half now,” he said as he set the plate on my thighs and smiled. “You will sleep deeply tonight.”

I obediently took a long drink of the juice. “I’m sorry I messed up the ritual.”

Mzatal shook his head and sank to sit on the edge of the bed. “You completed the first series, saw that which I could not, and you ignited the ring. The rest will come.”

I peered at him. “Oh. I thought you were…” I trailed off, trying to find the right word. “Mad” wasn’t right, but I was too tired to figure it out.

He met my eyes evenly, and I wondered if it had really been judgment I saw earlier in his face or simply my distorted perception. “I was—
am
—deeply pleased that you were able to work so intuitively with the sigils,” he said. “That ability is a vital element of this.” He laid a hand on my right ankle over the covers. I sighed in relief as the healing warmth spread up my leg. Though of course it did him no good for me to be crippled for a couple of days, so it made sense for him to make sure I could walk tomorrow.

“If we ever do get this blade, what happens then?” I asked. “I mean, to me.”

He tilted his head slightly and lifted a finger toward the glass of forgotten juice in my hand. “We
will
retrieve Vsuhl. After that, you continue to train. We have an agreement.”

I drained the glass and set it on the side table. “But what about the blade? You’ll have two of them.”

“It is my intention to hold it for Szerain,” he said, then moved his hand to my other ankle.

“Oh. Right. Makes sense.” I nibbled some of the food. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I knew I needed to eat something. “By the way, where do you sleep? I haven’t noticed you crawling into bed here,” I said.

“Qaztahl require far less sleep than humans,” he explained. “Usually only a night every ten days or so. Great potency drain or disruption also requires sleep for quickest restoration.” He glanced to the big comfy chair near the bed. “I slept there the night after your healing, and I’ve not required more.”

I gave a slow nod. When he woke me from the nightmare the other day, he’d been working in that chair, watching over me. “I feel guilty for putting you out of your bed,” I told him.

He gave my ankle a light squeeze and lifted his hand. “Such guilt is wasted,” he said as he stood. “Do try to eat more. You need it.” He poured more tunjen juice into my glass, then touched my shoulder briefly. “Sleep well, Kara.” With that he turned and departed.

I watched him go. He seemed to give an actual crap about me. But then again, so had Rhyzkahl. I sighed and ate a couple of pieces of fruit, then snuggled down under the covers. Mzatal needed me and wished to use me; he was quite clear on that point. It was his ultimate motives that I wasn’t too sure about.

I tried to push my doubts away, but even as tired as I was, it was a long time before I could sleep.

I dreamed of coffee. A steaming cup of my favorite Café du Monde coffee with chicory, plenty of cream and sugar. There may have been donuts in the dream as well, but it was the rich scent of coffee that invaded my sleep and teased me with the promise of alertness and calories.

The dream evaporated as a mental touch from Mzatal nudged me from sleep. I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head, desperately trying to recapture the scent, the flavor of coffee—even if it was only dream coffee.

A heartbeat later I lifted my head. I still smelled the coffee. How the hell could I still be smelling coffee? I turned over and saw Mzatal sitting in his chair perusing a stack of papers. I held the sheet around me and sat up, blinking in disbelief at the steaming mug, cream and sugar on the side table. “Is that…coffee?”

Mzatal smiled. “Yes, real coffee.”

I stared at him. “You got me coffee?”

“Yes,” he said as he set his papers aside. “You have been craving it since the morning after I first summoned you.”

“Thanks! Wow.” I shifted so I could reach it and quickly loaded it up with cream and sugar. I held it close, took a sip, and damn near let out a moan of ecstasy. Okay, maybe I did make a bit of an O-face. “Holy shit, that’s good,” I breathed.

Mzatal’s smile widened, watching me. “Excellent.”

I settled back against the pillows, making sure the sheet was securely tucked around me. I cradled the coffee like the precious thing it was and sipped. “No, really. Holy shit, I’ve missed this.”

“Yes, I know,” he said, eyes crinkling in amusement. “It is why I acquired it.”

In that moment, my heart melted just a teensy bit. I also realized with relief that I was only a little sore from yesterday’s exertions. “Keep this up and I may start to like you.”

Mzatal shook his head. “Perhaps suspend your opinion until after today’s training.”

I actually chuckled. “More stairs? Or do you have something worse in mind?”

He regarded me for a moment. “We will be summoning Katashi this evening.”

Well, that would no doubt be interesting, especially considering the whole question of whether Jesral had been in contact with Katashi. “‘We.’ Does that mean you want me there with you?”

Mzatal raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely. And you will assist Idris in preparation, which will introduce you to the nuances of summonings from here.”

I nodded and sipped delicious coffee. “Speaking of Idris. Um, has he ever had a girlfriend?”

Mzatal’s brows drew together, and he pursed his lips in thought. “There has not been opportunity since he has been here. On Earth, I do not know.”