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Elofir nodded. “That in itself is unprecedented.” He paused, face shadowing. “He is close to withdrawing fully, because of Paul and the rest of it. So close.” He met my eyes. “But he has not.”
“He’s part of the posse now,” I told him with a slight smile. “Not sure we’d let him withdraw.”
It took him a second to read the meaning behind “posse,” but then he smiled. “For selfish reasons, I do hope that is the case.”
“Selfish reasons?”
He let out a sigh. “I lose him as well when he withdraws,” he told me. “Even after several months I am still shocked when he names me ghastuk—friend—as he did long ago. I do not want to lose that again.”
The simple admission touched me—that a demonic lord could crave and treasure a simple thing like friendship.
“You won’t lose him,” I stated. “I’ll make sure of it.” My gaze went to the grove. “Lord Elofir, would you excuse me? I have some thinking to do.”
He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Go.”
With a parting smile, I hurried down the stairs.
Chapter 47
I found Eilahn in the central atrium below the mezzanines along with Gestamar, Faruk, Wuki, Dakdak, and a half dozen other demons, all crouched around an elaborate arrangement of blankets and bedding. A kittenless Fuzzykins held court from atop the pile like a proud and fierce queen, unruffled while demons cuddled and fussed over her newborns. Surely it was too soon to handle the babies? But what did I know.
Gestamar held one of the tiny kittens cradled oh-so-very gently in his clawed hand while he crooned softly to it. The two ilius coiled around another—apparently not feeding on its essence or anything of that nature, since I rather imagined Eilahn would protest.
Faruk zipped up to me, thrust a soft, warm ball of fluff into my hands before I could protest. “Fillion,” she said, then returned to do homage to Fuzzykins.
I stared down at the tiny wriggling kitten in my hands, a feline that wasn’t hissing, growling, scratching, or hating me. Not that it had much to work with, eyes closed and barely able to scrabble. I cupped it in my palm, gently stroked its orange and white fur with a finger. Maybe Bryce’s suggestion of handling a kitten from early on really would work. Such a trivial consideration in the grand scheme of things, but it felt monumental to me in that moment.
My grove-sense tingled with an activation—Kadir, I noted as I nuzzled the kitten and made goofy noises at it. He was headed to the Little Waterfall, I had no doubt. Yet a couple of minutes later a ripple of movement went through the demons, as if they’d all heard something strange, and within the span of about five seconds every demon with a kitten settled it beside Fuzzykins and scattered, leaving only Eilahn and me. Even big and scary Gestamar quickly and soundlessly retreated down a corridor.
Kadir strode in a heartbeat later, which explained the sudden exodus. I quickly set Fillion with the others as I pulled a trickle of grove power to shield my thoughts. I stood and opened my mouth to demand what he was doing, then closed it. No way would Kadir enter any part of Mzatal’s realm without explicit permission. Which means Mzatal invited him here. Which also meant the need was surely dire.
Fuzzykins mrowed at him, like a Hey! Good to see you! Crazy cat.
The androgynous Kadir glanced my way, then paused and scrutinized the air slightly to the right of me, nostrils flaring. He angled his head, lips parted, in an expression I finally concluded to be burning curiosity. “The rakkuhr, How did you clear—” he began, then looked sharply toward the stairs, turned and bounded up.
I followed quickly, though not to the point of running, caught up to him as he stood waiting at the entrance to Mzatal’s level. There was no physical barrier between the stairs and the corridor, but demonic lord protocol backed by a number of potent wards served even better.
I took a perverse joy in stepping around him just as Mzatal exited Paul’s room, his face unreadable and lined with stress. Without a glance, Mzatal swept past me to engage in a hasty, tension-filled exchange with Kadir. Terms of agreement, I gathered, but so quickly set that even with the grove as translator I could only get the bare gist. Assessment. Heal if at all possible. Do no harm. I had no idea what the payment terms were.
Kadir sauntered past me and to Paul’s room while Mzatal remained where he was, back to me, hands in fists at his sides.
“Paul is dying,” Mzatal said, his voice resonant and remarkably controlled.
Sick fear tightened my chest. Not Paul. Not that sweet, brilliant man. Tears sprang to my eyes at the thought of never hearing his quick laugh again.
I moved to face Mzatal, seized his head in my hands, and forced him to look at me. “No! Paul needs you, needs to feel you here.” My heart ached for Mzatal, and I understood the desire, the need to separate himself from it all, but I couldn’t allow it. I stroked a thumb over his cheek, much the same as he often did to me. “I need you, beloved,” I said, voice gentling a bit. “You must not close us out.”
His face like stone, he reached up and gripped my wrists. I didn’t need a mental link to know he fully intended to move my hands and turn away. But instead he met my eyes and went still.
“Mzatal,” I murmured as I pushed through the shrouded connection to touch him. I can help you. Pain shared is pain halved. “I need you, too.”
He closed his eyes and drew a long slow breath. As he exhaled, I felt him, as though he’d opened a crack in his impenetrable wall. He released my wrists, gathered me to him and tucked his head close beside mine. “Zharkat.”
“Boss,” I said quietly.
He cradled me close for several heartbeats, then straightened and laid his hand against my cheek. “Go to Paul,” he told me. “I must attend Elofir in the plexus, then I will join you.” He paused. “When Paul is stable, we will talk. Deeply.”
I hoped for all our sakes that moment came soon. “Absolutely,” I said, then kissed him quickly and hurried into Paul’s room.
