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Calming somewhat, Mzatal went to one knee and laid a hand on the perimeter of the pattern. Its resonance deepened as he carefully strengthened and fed it. Idris continued to follow the strands to their terminus, abruptly going still as a statue, barely even breathing.
“One of them is with him now,” Idris said in such a soft exhalation I would never have heard him had we not all been connected in the ritual.
“Tsuneo,” Mzatal said at a similarly low volume.
I nodded. “Okay. Idris, you maintain the watch, and you let me know the instant they leave him alone. Mzatal, you get ready to slip bindings. We’re going to play a waiting game and we’re going to win it.”
Idris breathed a low curse. “I don’t think we can wait. There’s movement.” A frown tugged at his mouth.
“Another ritual,” Mzatal said, eyes unfocused. “Idris, can you discern its purpose?”
“No,” he replied. “Gestamar is in Katashi’s summoning chamber, but the other ritual is in the adjoining room.” He paused. “Tsuneo is still with Gestamar.”
Crap. So much for waiting for the most opportune moment. “Mzatal, how’s Gestamar doing? He needs to be calm and quiet, maybe even feign weakness.”
Pain flickered over the lord’s face. “Thrashing. I cannot quiet him. The bindings are draining him, and he is in agony.”
“If we wait any longer, it’s going to get ugly,” Idris said, worried expression deepening. Neither one pulled attention from their surveillance, but I could sense as clearly as if both stared at me, that they waited for my instructions. Considering the disruption in the essence bond, Mzatal was doing everything he could to stay focused. I had the most experience as a summoner. I was lead on this, and it was up to me to call the shots. It made sense, but it still felt weird as all hell.
“Fuckballs,” I muttered. “Okay. Plan B, folks, since we may not be able to wait for them to leave him alone. Any shift of focus off of him will do. Idris, you give the word and hold the conduit, Mzatal, you slip bindings, and we’ll yank his big ass out. With any luck at all we should be able to make it one perfectly coordinated movement, because we are awesome like that.”
Idris suddenly grimaced. “Shit, all three in the room now.”
Damn it! “Fine. Plan C it is. Fuck stealth. Mzatal, can you send any sort of strike through the conduit?”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “I can.”
“Good. On three then. Idris hold the damn conduit wide, and I’ll focus on the call. Mzatal, you zap and unbind, then we’ll pull. One, two, three!”
The word was barely out of my mouth when Mzatal unleashed power through the conduit. I damn near lost hold as part of it reflected back on me, but Idris managed to steady the strands.
“Now!” Mzatal shouted, and we puuuulled. The diagram shuddered, and then with a crack that shook the beach, Gestamar appeared sprawled and bleeding.
“Idris, seal it!” I shouted as I quickly anchored and watched for any attempt to follow the reyza. Together, Idris and I shut down the flows and dropped protections, allowing Mzatal to go to the stricken demon. Gestamar was alive, I could see that much. He was a mess, but he was back and in what appeared to be one piece.
“Mzatal?” I asked. “Is he okay?”
The lord dropped to one knee beside Gestamar, then looked back to me, relief swimming in his eyes. “Nothing permanent.” He looked up as Helori and Ilana joined him to crouch by the reyza. I blinked. Where the hell had they come from? Had they been here this whole time?
Idris and I finished shutting everything down and cleaned up residuals. After a few minutes the two syraza disappeared with Gestamar. I grinned over at Idris. “Dude, we kicked ass.”
He gave a whoop of delight in response.
“Recalling the blade will be a walk in the park after this.” I laughed as I said it, yet at the same time, I meant it. We’d worked superbly as a team. Even if Rhyzkahl showed up, we could handle him.
Still grinning, Idris loped over to the big rock to retrieve his shirt and boots. Mzatal sat cross-legged where Gestamar had lain, head lowered. I crouched beside him and slipped an arm around his shoulders.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I am tired,” he said without lifting his head, and for an instant I had the impression that he spoke of a fatigue that went far beyond the physical, a weight comprised of millennia of schemes and plans and plots. I had to resist a sudden weird urge to stroke his hair back from his face, which made no sense since it was still perfectly braided as always.
“C’mon, Boss,” I said, taking his hand. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Mzatal remained utterly still for another moment, then squeezed my hand and stood. “Were it all in your control, Kara Gillian, I would know that to be the truth.”
“I’m a tenacious bitch, remember?”
He began to smile, then abruptly straightened and turned fully to the beacon diagram, grip tightening on my hand.
