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“Not anymore.” I lifted my chin. Hurt and anger and betrayal ricocheted within me. The last twenty years of my life—all a lie? “We’re taking it. We’ll rent a fucking moving van if we have to.”
He pulled out his phone. “I’ll get a rental. Don’t want to risk anything flying out of the bed of Vince’s truck. In fact I’ll see if he can call it in for me.” With that he stepped into the hall to make the arrangements.
Seretis gestured to an old photo of Tessa standing in front of her store for its grand opening. “This is the one you name Tessa Pazhel?”
“Yes, that’s my aunt,” I said. “After my dad died, she raised me and taught me how to be a summoner.” I scowled. “Except for the part where she left a bunch of crap out on purpose and lied to my face.”
“I remember her,” he said.
My eyes narrowed. “What do you remember?”
“She was Rhyzkahl’s shadow during the conclave twenty-two years past.” He studied the photo, stance rigid, eyes reflecting an anguish I couldn’t fathom. Because of Tessa? After a moment Seretis drew a deeper breath and turned away from the picture, face composed again. His regard settled upon me, and I knew he was reading my relationship with Tessa and anything relevant and on my mind. I shot a quick glance toward Idris, but he was so involved with the valve I could have been tangoing naked with Bryce and he wouldn’t have noticed.
“Her summoning chamber is in the attic,” I told Seretis. “Would you mind checking it as well?”
“If there are other locations such as this one, I will find them.” He rested a hand on my shoulder for a heartbeat then exited. Buoyed by the gesture, I busied myself pulling out books that I thought might be of the most use to us. I tucked my grandmother’s journal into my bag. I didn’t want to share that with anyone until I’d read it.
Bryce left and returned half an hour later with a beat up Y’all-Haul cargo van, attached trailer, and a billion boxes. By then Idris had finished with the valve, and I related a quick and dirty recap of the discovery for him. He let out a low whistle as he took stock of the hidden books.
“You learned to summon without ever mastering anchor lock sigils?” he asked, tone incredulous yet holding a dose of admiration.
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m good at bullshitting my way through life,” I said wryly.
He snorted then sobered. “Did you find any indication she knew about me?”
“Nothing yet,” I said with quiet sympathy, “but there’s a lot more to go through.”
He gave me a stiff nod then pitched in to help Bryce pack books.
“Is everything all right, Kara?” Carl said from the doorway. His mellow gaze took in the activity.
“Yeah, everything’s cool,” I said. I’d forgotten he was in the house. Not surprising considering how the discovery of Tessa’s perfidy had consumed my thoughts a teensy bit. “Need to move the contents of the library to my house.” I didn’t bother trying to blow smoke up his ass about how it would be safer there or anything like that.
“Ah,” he said. “Yes, better to spend the dragon’s hoard.” Without another word he slid into the room and joined our work. I didn’t try to make sense of his statement. This was Carl.
“Kara,” Bryce said some time later. “Seretis needs you in the attic.”
My mouth went dry. No way was that a good thing. I thanked him and headed upstairs.
The comfortable twenty by twenty foot space of the converted attic could have easily been used as an office or another bedroom, but served Tessa well as a summoning chamber. The high, peaked ceiling easily accommodated large demons, and the floor had been painted to create a good surface for chalking sigils. A recliner and a small side table were tucked against the wall to the left. No other furniture.
That was how I’d always seen it, at least. But now Seretis stood near the recliner, beside a wall-mounted shelf I had no memory of. A pile of books and other items rested on the seat of the chair.
“Very heavily warded. Against you,” he said, voice low, “by both Isumo Katashi and Rhyzkahl.” He lifted a hand toward the pile then dropped it as if the weight was more than he could bear. “Tah sesekur di lahn.”
I hold sorrow for you. That was the closest translation of the demon phrase. An expression of the deepest sympathy. I crossed to him and knelt by the items on the recliner. Two ancient volumes on summoning. A framed photo of a much younger Tessa smiling beside Katashi. Calligraphy mat, paper, brushes, ink. A dip pen. A ribbon-bound packet of air mail letters. A Japanese hand scroll. A stenographers pad. Memorabilia, I told myself. Nothing but relics from a time long gone. Except that one of the ink bottles appeared brand-new, and the date on the cover of the notepad was only three months past.
I snatched up the pad and flipped through it. Only the first half bore writing, but there was more than enough to shake my world to the core. To-do lists such as Call Tsuneo re Isumo’s progress in Texas and Notify Gina of the revised schedule. Plus notes for the creation of a ritual I didn’t recognize, with sigils drawn and scratched out—several pages of a portion of a diagram, like drafts of a document with each successive rendition containing fewer corrections as she closed in on the solution.
Frustrated, I stared at the last page, certain I’d seen the order of those sigils before but unable to rely on my faulty memory of the arcane.
“Seretis? What would these sigils do?” I asked, extending the notepad to him.
His jaw tightened as he skimmed the page. “They would be part of a larger ritual,” he said. “This section would serve to draw low-frequency potency to a point below the intended target. A segment like this for each frequency range would be quite effective to isolate the target from the arcane.”
Isolate from the arcane . . . She helped design the ritual that let Katashi hold me helpless while McDunn took my abilities. How long had that plan been in the works? Long enough for the technique to have been perfected and Idris to have learned it from Katashi.
Reeling from the revelations, I sat heavily on the floor and struggled to make sense of it all. How could any of this be true? “I don’t even know what to believe anymore,” I said, voice quavering. “She was like a mother to me.”
