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He picked up his laptop case, turned to go.
“Hey, Ryan?” I looked over at him as he glanced back. “Thanks.” A faint smile shifted my scowl. “This whole thing would be worse if I didn’t have a friend like you.”
He smiled and gave me a wink. “I’m one in a million, baby, and don’t you forget it.” And with that he left.
I finished frying my multigrain sugar fest, dismally aware that it would have been far better on good old reliable squidgy white bread. That was going at the top of the grocery list.
Still, even multigrain bread fried in butter and covered with honey and sugar wasn’t bad at all, and while I felt a teensy bit ill upon finishing it, I didn’t mind one bit, and my mood was somewhat improved.
After cleaning up my mess, I looked at the clock and exhaled. Over six hours before Mzatal would be ready to be summoned. I wanted him here now, wanted to feel his strong reassurance that we would get through this—all of this—together. I put the clean skillet away, then headed down to the basement to check the storage diagram. It brought him one step closer, plus Ryan was down there, and I was ready for the company of a friend.
Ryan glanced up from his laptop and gave me a smile which I managed to return.
“I’m going to check the storage diagra
m,” I told him. “Nothing fancy, so it shouldn’t disturb you.”
“No problem,” he said. “Do what you need to do.”
I crouched beside the diagram, assessed it. Ryan sat with his laptop in a pretense of industry, but I felt his eyes on me. I gathered wisps of potency, funneled as much as I could into the diagram, then sealed it. It would take a while for more potency to be available for collection, sort of like water seeping slowly in through concrete. One more session would likely fill it enough for my needs.
I let out a long soft breath. The routine focus of the work had eased the trauma of the morning a bit more.
Ryan shifted and cleared his throat. I stood and turned to him, amused to see him looking a little guilty for watching me instead of working.
“All done?” he asked.
“For now,” I said, keeping my humor well hidden. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours and top it off.”
Ryan nodded, his eyes still on me. “God, I’ve missed you.”
I moved to the futon and sat beside him then leaned my head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.”
He set the laptop aside. “Like I said, it’s been a weird few months. Sometimes when I think of you being off with him, I get so pissed I do stupid shit like hit the wall.” He winced. “Or kick a concrete barricade. Not one of my brighter moments.” He dropped his head back. “Most of the time it’s not like that, though. I can think of you with him, and I’m . . . happy for you.”
I had no doubt Szerain maintained the calm as best he could, which supported my suspicion that he didn’t have a problem with my relationship with Mzatal even if Ryan did. And those times when Szerain couldn’t resist the submersion enough to influence Ryan were the times when the Ryan aspect lashed out in jealous frustration.
Submersion. Revulsion shuddered through me at the reminder. A few months ago I’d talked Mzatal into submerging me so that I could understand Ryan/Szerain better. It was a nightmare—like being placed in a shoulder-width vertical tube with cold, viscous gel up to your chin, then having a grate pushed down until you had to press your face against it to keep from drowning. To add to the torment, you were forced to witness yourself living and interacting, but with little direct control over it. Never sleeping. Never knowing the relief of oblivion.
Szerain had existed thus for the past decade and a half. Horrific. I had no idea how he remained sane. I doubted I’d have lasted more than a week.
I slid my arm around him. “Mzatal’s very good to me. And for me.” I let out a low sigh. “I’m still a bit of a mess from what Rhyzkahl did to me, and I really believe Mzatal wants me to be, well, whole again.”
Ryan continued to stare up at the ceiling. “Yeah. That’s good. Can’t deny you look and sound better.”
“I’m getting there,” I said, then winced. “Sure wish I’d listened to you earlier though. About Rhyzkahl.”
He swiveled his head to look at me. “Yeah. What the hell is that all about?” he asked. “I know how I was, am, about you being around Rhyzkahl. But I don’t get that with Mzatal.” A perplexed look crossed his face. “Sure, I get my fits of jealousy, but it’s not the same at all. Makes no sense. I don’t know either one of the bastards.”
Ryan didn’t know them, but Szerain sure did since he’d spent millennia with them. Ryan was Szerain and Szerain was Ryan, but in an unhealthy, cruel imbalance. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell Ryan that was why he had fervent opinions he didn’t understand. “I think it must be part of your talent or whatever,” I said with a diffident shrug. “You’ve met them both, and maybe you got a shitty vibe from Rhyzkahl and a not so shitty one from Mzatal.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Maybe. But I’m pretty sure I had it in for Rhyzkahl long before I had the so-called pleasure of meeting him.” He gave me a wry smile. “Must be my impeccable instinct. You’ll listen to me from now on.”
“I absolutely will,” I said and snuggled up against him a bit. “It’s nice to be back home.”
Ryan went still for a second then shifted to drape his arm over my shoulders. “I wonder what I can think up to tell you.”
I laughed. “Behave, or I won’t believe you when it’s important.”
