AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The reyza turned and entered a cozy room right next to the summoning chamber. “Much,” he replied. “The catalyst being that you drew potency from the grove and disrupted the removal.” He led me to one of two big cushy chairs and gently pushed me to sit. Fine with me since I wasn’t sure I could even stand right now without my knees shaking.
“I had no idea I was drawing any kind of potency,” I protested. “It…hurt. And the blade scared me.” I clenched my hands together and dropped my eyes to the mark. With an othersight squint to counter the collar a bit, I focused. Two strands of a tight silvery sigil wound around a loop of it. By Mzatal’s mandate the thing held the key to my fate, though the bastard hadn’t bothered to share the possibilities with me. Near my wrist, a curve of the mark pulsed bright to dark with a tendril whipping around like a loose fire hose. Yep. Definitely fucked up.
Idris entered and dropped into the chair beside me. He looked shell-shocked as all hell, but he seemed to remember his orders since he glued his attention to the sigil.
Shuddering, I looked back to Gestamar. “What are you supposed to do if the mark changes?”
He crouched. “That is dependent on the outcome of the diagram Idris lays,” he said. “The mark is open. Rhyzkahl will know it has been touched. Risk of his intervention was significant, and now it is greater yet.”
I scowled. “Stop talking in circles. Did he tell you to kill me? Is that one of the possible outcomes?”
“Yes,” he replied with no hesitation. “It is one of the possibilities.”
The color drained from Idris’s face. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Wait….”
Gestamar swiveled his head toward Idris. “You will lay the inverse attenuator or her death will be the only possibility.”
He stood, clenching his hands at his sides, though to his credit he continued to watch the sigil on my arm. “Why? What gives us the right to kill her?”
“Because it is the best option,” Gestamar stated, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.
Idris glanced at Gestamar and opened his mouth as though to speak, but closed it again and scowled at the mark.
I let out a soft sigh. Idris was as trapped as I was. “Idris.” I hesitated. I didn’t want to say It’s okay, because it totally wasn’t okay. At all. “It is what it is,” I said instead. “Do the attenuator thing. Whatever else happens isn’t your fault.”
“But it is,” he shot back. “It’s my fault that you’re here. Why the hell did I ever think this,” he made a mock tracing in the air, “was how I wanted to spend my life? I thought I was going to grow up to be a damn vet!”>I didn’t want to tell him a damn thing, but I also knew that he could easily delve and strip the memory out of me if he so desired.
“I was working a case,” I told him. “A series of murders that didn’t look like murders. I could tell that the essences of the victims were gone. My partner, Ryan, and I found her—the woman who was doing it. But she got the jump on us and managed to get hold of Ryan.” I paused, swallowed as the memory of those awful few minutes rose. “She threatened to consume his essence if I didn’t open a portal and allow her to have more hriss.” I took a deep breath and touched the warm-blanket presence for calm.
“I tricked her and summoned Rhyzkahl,” I continued. “I told him that if he stopped her and saved Ryan, I’d agree to be his summoner.” I searched Mzatal’s face for some sort of reaction, but it remained impassive. “We agreed to terms: three years of service, I’d summon him once a month, and he’d answer two questions for me each time. He pulled a knife and cut my arm and his, then pressed them together and said it was done.” I exhaled and looked down at the delicately intricate arcane tracings that marked my forearm. Was that only a few months ago? It seemed like forever.
Mzatal shook his head slowly as though trying to process what I said. “A purported mark agreement, under duress, for only three years duration, and an exchange of two questions in return for being summoned to Earth monthly.” A muscle in his jaw twitched.
I scowled and shrugged. “It worked okay for me. And, anyway, what was I supposed to do? It was that or leave Ryan to have his essence consumed.”
Mzatal’s mouth tightened as he lifted one hand and touched my temple. “The blade he used—I need to see it.”
I debated resisting, but it was too late. Just his suggestion brought the memory to the surface.
A wicked blade shimmers with an oily blue sheen. Its hilt is covered in spikes that thrust between Rhyzkahl’s fingers. A dark blue jewel glimmers in the pommel, flickering with dim internal light.
“Enough.” He pulled his hand away and shook it as if to rid himself of the feel of the memory. “Rhyzkahl’s essence blade—Xhan—tainted with rakkuhr,” he said, the last word laced with vehemence. He looked down at the mark on my arm, lip curling. “That it was used to forge this increases my urgency a hundredfold.” He met my eyes again. “How did he fulfill the condition of stopping this woman?”
My unease grew. I had no idea why the blade made a difference, but it obviously meant a hell of a lot to Mzatal. I wasn’t thrilled about continuing to feed him information, but I also knew it was that or have him read it from me. “With the same blade,” I said. “He stabbed her in the heart and she turned to dust. He said she was a saarn.”
His grip tightened on my wrist. “This mark will come off, Kara Gillian.”
I gulped at the intensity of his words but managed to narrow my eyes in what grim defiance I could muster. “I’d like to get a second opinion.”
Mzatal spoke in rapid demon to Gestamar, who growled menacingly. When the lord returned his attention to me again, he spoke through clenched teeth. “Rhyzkahl seeks to regain Szerain’s blade. I will not allow that to happen.”
I ran through possibilities. “You’re going to try to get it first, aren’t you?” How did I fit into all of this?
“Yes. I will find and retrieve Vsuhl.” He lifted a hand, and for a bizarre moment I thought he was going to strike me. But in the next instant a knife appeared in his fist, long and narrow with shifting etchings along the blade itself and a silvery grey gem sparkling in the pommel. What I could see of the hilt below his fingers revealed what looked like delicately carved ivory. I had no doubt this was Mzatal’s essence blade.
Terror surged through me, and I recoiled as much as I could in the confines of my bindings. I knew, more than anything else in that moment, that I did not want that blade touching me or the mark.
“No!” I struggled against his grip, eyes on the blade. The presence of the grove wrapped around me, but it couldn’t dispel this deeper horror. “Please…no!”
