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I could feel an answer tickling at the back of my head, but I couldn’t get it to behave and come out and play nice. Screw this. It was already late enough that I was going to be short on sleep. Too much had happened today for me to think straight.
I returned to the basement to pull a smidge more power into the diagram, then hauled my sorry, tired ass back up to my bedroom. Between the wine and the working with the arcane, I was asleep a heartbeat after my head hit the pillow, barely remembering as my eyes closed to dream of Rhyzkahl.
Chapter 27
I rested my hands on the stone of the battlement as I looked out over the deep canyon. A chill breeze teased my hair but I didn’t want to go back inside. Morning mist shrouded the bottom of the abyss and I knew it would be hours yet before the sun would clear the high ridge and burn it off. A waterfall tumbled down the cliffs, descending into the depths with a muted roar.
I know this place. I looked up, oddly certain that I would see winged demons cavorting in the morning air, but the sky was empty of anything but a few small birds.
I took a deep breath, the crisp air tasting of green and mountains and snow. I’m dreaming this, and ... I’m aware that I’m dreaming. That was a first.
Familiarity tickled at me. I’d been here before. Or rather, I’d dreamed this before, in sendings that Rhyzkahl had controlled. Is this part of the demon realm? I’d been to the demon realm once—albeit for only a couple of minutes—but even though my visit had been brief I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a different place. Maybe it was the light, or the air ...
Frowning, I turned, familiarity continuing to tug annoyingly at me. I was on one tower of a massive fortress or keep that looked as if it had been carved out of the mountain. A dozen feet behind me a brass door set in a low stone structure stood ajar a few inches. To my right and left the battlements curved around and out of sight behind the structure. Greg’s comic, I abruptly realized. It looked the same. Greg Cerise had been with my aunt when she’d first encountered Rhyzkahl—during the horrific slaughter of the summoners. He’d later gone on to create a rich and amazing graphic novel set in an amazing and fantastical setting. I’d read it from cover to cover, so surely this was simply my imagination creating an interesting dream-locale ...
No. It goes deeper than that. I knew this place. Beyond the brass door were wide stairs going down. At the base of the stairs was a hallway and if I turned right—
I startled and let out a squawk at a touch on my shoulder. Heart pounding, I spun to see Rhyzkahl holding a fur-lined cloak. He calmly draped it over my shoulders even as I tried to make sense of what was going on. I was wearing a dress, I abruptly realized. A floor-length gown with an empire waist, slit sleeves, and a deep neckline, in a dark purple fabric that felt a bit like silk but somehow more luxurious. I dress up in my dreams for Rhyzkahl, I thought with an illogical twist of guilt.
“This is a dream, right?” I said, pulling the cloak close around me.
“It is,” he replied. “You called to me.”
I gave an unsteady nod. “Right. It’s just ...” I looked around again. “You’ve brought me here before in dreams, but, I know this place. Why?”
He remained silent for several heartbeats, expression betraying nothing. “This place was a favorite of mine once,” he finally said. His face could have been carved from marble. “I prefer this locale to your bedroom.”
“But—”
“You called to me,” he repeated, cutting me off. “You have only done so once before, and thus I assume that this time your need is dire.”
I hugged the cloak closer around me. “Some strange things have been happening. I think that someone is trying to summon me.”
The rage that flashed through his eyes was unmistakable. So much for my theory that he was responsible. “Explain,” he said, lips curling back from his teeth.
I did so, describing both incidents, though I left Zack out of it. I had no idea whether Rhyzkahl knew that Zack wasn’t human, but I wasn’t about to clue him in if he didn’t. I was beginning to learn the value of information and discretion when it came to dealing with demons.
Rhyzkahl turned away when I finished and strode to the stone wall. I expected him to lean against it and look out over the canyon or something like that, but instead he crossed his arms over his chest and looked skyward. The light wind rippled his hair, and for a brief instant I found myself struck with the urge to step forward, wrap my arms around him from behind, and bury my face in that silken fall.
I shook my head sharply. No, that wasn’t something I could ever see myself actually doing. Not to him. That sort of gesture implied a level of affection that we simply didn’t have.
Did we?
“As soon as you are able, summon a syraza by the name of Eilahn,” he said, voice breaking into my jumbled thoughts. He turned, ancient eyes piercing me. “This demon will serve as your guardian.”
The near-savage look on his face stilled any protest I might have made. “Okay,” I said meekly.
“I will deal with the matter as best I can in my own realm, but such issues are complicated.” The anger in his expression retreated. “I regret that I have placed you in such a position, but I have good reasons.”
“And you can’t tell me those reasons?” I said, annoyance crowding out the confusion.
“To do so would imperil all I am seeking to do,” he replied cryptically. “Summon Eilahn. The syraza will serve—” He jerked his head up abruptly as if an alarm had sounded, though I couldn’t sense anything out of the ordinary.
“You have been careless,” he hissed. “You will destroy yourself through carelessness!”
“What?”
“You are in dire threat. Wake up!” Rhyzkahl’s face was contorted in fury and ... worry? But before I could fully process his words his hand came up to backhand me hard. I cried out as sharp pain exploded in the side of my face and I went crashing to the stone—
