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She shrugged. “I have a good memory.”
“A really good memory,” I said, impressed. The diagram had hundreds of sigils in it. As I skimmed my eyes over it again, my breath caught. With those two sigils corrected, everything else took on a new pattern, and now the diagram practically glowed with a life of its own.
“Maybe I should learn what some of these things mean,” Jill said. She gestured at the sigils. “Might come in handy with being mother to a qaztehl.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” I said, closing my notebook to protect the diagram sketch. “There are a number of standard ones that you could learn to recognize.”
“She’s freaked out,” Jill murmured.
I gave her a perplexed look. “Who? Ashava?”
Jill nodded. “Everything’s scarier with Szerain gone and Zack still weak. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen next.”
Holy crap. Szerain wasn’t with the others in the dimensional pocket because he was still in the bubble. But I hadn’t told Jill anything about that. She had no possible way to know where Szerain was or wasn’t. Or Zack’s condition, for that matter. But Ashava knew. Jill was feeling Ashava’s worry and fear.
Suddenly, other little snippets of conversation made more sense, such as Jill referring to Zack as Ashava’s sire and her certainty that her daughter had red hair. And now, correcting those sigils in my sketch.
Ashava, you clever little minx, I thought with glee. She’d maintained a thread of contact with her mommy. Not only had she just helped me out, but the sadness no longer haunted Jill’s eyes. Ashava had reached out for reassurance and given it at the same time.
I opened my mouth to tell Jill then closed it. What if her knowing about the connection made it tougher for Ashava to get through? Maybe the kid needed Jill to be mentally relaxed so that she could slip in unnoticed? I wasn’t sure how it worked, and I definitely didn’t want to jinx it. Probably best to wait and ask Szerain before saying anything.
“I’ll tell you what’ll happen next,” I said brightly. “I’m going to make sure Elinor gets rescued, then we’ll follow through with the plan to get Szerain, Ashava, Zack, and Sonny back with us where they belong.”
“That’s exactly right.” Jill gave a fierce nod. “Now get your ass home so you can summon a big bad demon.”
“And you’re going to get chickens?”
“Yup. Nowhere near as cool as a demon, but not all of us can be Kara Gillian.”
“The world would run out of coffee within a week if everyone was Kara Gillian.”
“Three days at best.” Jill strode to the door with a lilt in her step. “Then it would be every Kara Gillian for herself.”
A world without coffee? I shuddered and followed her out.
Chapter 36
Back at the house, I started chewing my way through my pre-summoning to-do list, adding items and tasks as they occurred to me, and doing my best to not fret about the Be lordy??? at the very bottom of the page. Within the first hour, the list doubled in size, at which time I realized that I was possibly delving into minutiae in order to avoid dealing with that last item on the list. I therefore began a regime of merciless prioritization and delegation because, for fuck’s sake, Kara. No, I didn’t need to break out the weed-whacker and trim the grass around the nexus. I was summoning a demon, not the President. Nor did I personally need to change the burned out floodlight at the northwest corner of the house when I had any number of people who would gladly do it for me. In similar fashion, I delegated filling a sports bottle with tunjen, and crossed out Clean oven and Fold laundry. Seriously, what was I thinking?
“Lunch,” Pellini said as I sat hunched over my list at the kitchen table.
I obediently wrote down Lunch. “Can you take care of getting my wizard staff from DIRT?” The six-foot long turbo-charged cattle prod was deliciously effective against most demons and would be awfully nice to have on hand.
“Sure thing, but only after you stop and eat your goddamn lunch.”
I lifted my head, surprised to see a plate bearing a grilled-cheese sandwich, a generous handful of figs, and several strips of bacon. “Oh. Where’d that come from?”
He cast his eyes heavenward. “I fucking cooked it while you sat there and muttered to yourself. Now eat it before I hold you
down and force-feed you.”
I snatched up the sandwich and took a hasty bite. Pellini was the sort to carry out a threat like that. “Thanks,” I mumbled around bread and cheese. My appetite woke up as sandwich met stomach, and I tore through the rest of the food.
“That’s better,” Pellini said with a satisfied nod.
“Yeah, I feel better.” I leaned back and rubbed my happy belly. “Did Jill find an open farmer’s market?”
He gave me a curious look. “No. Why?”
