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“Right here,” I replied, spreading my hands. “He’s using a dimensional storage pocket as a drop site. For a reply to my questions, I hope.”
“Do you know how to get into one of those things?”
“Umm, I’m working on that part.” I chewed my lower lip as I considered. The situation felt like the kind of trick questions where the answer was obvious to everyone but me. Except Szerain knew me. No way would he use a drop site I couldn’t access, which meant he felt certain that I’d figure out how to reach into the dimensional pocket.
Relaxing, I called to mind the familiarity of Szerain. Of Ryan. A smile tugged at my mouth. He’d probably store his secret messages in something silly and nerdy, like a Star Wars lunchbox.
Exactly. Okay, not exactly. But the image carried the perfect Szerain-Ryan-secret-hiding-place resonance I needed as a focal point.
I fixed the concept of a Star Wars lunchbox in my head, Darth Vader on the front and Princess Leia on the side, blaster at the ready. My hand reached into that lunchbox.
And closed on something solid. “Holy shit,” I breathed, staring at the notebook in my grasp. “I did it.”
“Holy shit,” Pellini echoed with a laugh. “So you did.”
The notebook was plain, blue, and spiral-bound—and sealed with a ward woven from rakkuhr. Bracing myself against the odd feel of the potency, I unwound and dissipated the seal then opened the notebook.
The first thirty or so pages were taken up with sketches, but I forced myself to flip past them. A few pages from the back, I found Szerain’s answers to my questions written in an exquisite cursive.
I couldn’t return to the others without risking them.
Trust yourself. You have all that you need for the summoning. You have the use of a lord’s power. Be lordy.
I will attempt to distract Xharbek during the time of the summoning in order to draw his attention from you.
After the summoning, and once you have Elinor, cleanse the nexus and set the three bunker diagrams. Keep Elinor on the nexus and within the diagrams. Reach for us precisely two hours after the peak of the full moon. We will be ready.
Be wary of all the demahnk, save perhaps Helori. Zakaar is cut off and cannot track their current agendas.
Activate and memorize this:
A delicate arrow pointed to an odd little knot of rakkuhr attached to the paper right below “memorize.”
Use it if—when—you want Dekkak to pay close attention to what you’re saying.
All right, I could follow directions. I activated the knot of rakkuhr, watched as the potency resolved into a three-dimensional hologram-type thing. As far as I could tell it was a depiction of interlocking loops of pygah. As I carefully memorized it, I expected to understand something of its purpose, as was the norm with the mental tracing of any other arcane construct, but I gleaned absolutely nothing. Not the slightest hint of what this thing was or how it was meant to get Dekkak’s attention. Hell, it could be a clown with a water pistol for all I knew.
Still, I mentally filed it away, confident that Szerain wouldn’t have wasted time on it unless it could somehow prove useful.
“This is what I needed,” I said, looking up at the others with gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough for all of your help.”
Turek hissed acknowledgment before leaping off the nexus and into the shadows of the woods. Pellini helped Michael to his feet then clapped me on the back.
“I haven’t forgotten the pancake party,” he said, “but the circles under your eyes are darker than the slab. I’ll get Michael settled. You go back to bed.”
I shook my head. “I need to find Jill first.”
“She went with Bryce to make the exchange for the net.” Pellini glowered, as if daring me to come up with another stupid excuse.
As if I’d waste a Kara Gillian Clever Retort on him. And totally not because I was so wiped out I couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wasn’t “Oh, okay.” I finally settled on a very smart and witty nod, then I marched off the nexus and to my bed.
Though fatigue had a firm grip on my eyelids, I took a moment to look through Szerain’s sketches. As I paged through the notebook, tears filled my eyes. Dozens upon dozens of sketches of Ashava, documenting her life—and growth—over the past two months.
Szerain gave me these on purpose, I realized, throat tight with emotion. He could have easily torn out and passed just the one page that held his notes and the rakkuhr knot, but he’d captured these moments and delivered the entire notebook so that Jill could have a badly needed glimpse of her daughter.
Damn. I wanted to show these to her in person, but she wouldn’t be back for several hours yet. And it didn’t feel right to just leave them out for her to find when she got home. No, as soon as I woke up, I’d hunt her down.
I turned the page for the next sketch then stared. Instead of Ashava, it was Elinor, smiling and full of life. But what sent my heart thumping was the note below it in Szerain’s hand.
