A soft smile returned to his face. He reached and brushed my cheek lightly with the tips of his fingers. “And you are here, forged in fiery torment,” he pulled his hand back, rested his forearm on his knee, “prepared to kick the ass, as Michael would say, of the Four Dickwads.”
A shiver of lingering terror raced over me, but I gave him the low chuckle he no doubt expected. I didn’t feel anywhere near strong enough to even look any of them in the eye, much less kick any asses.
He laughed, a beautiful sound that helped disperse my residual fears—and his as well, perhaps. “Trust me, you don’t want to look them in the eye. Ugly, the lot of them.” He stood smoothly and held a hand out for me.
I allowed him to pull me to my feet and gave him a more genuine smile. I didn’t even mind that he’d clearly read my thoughts. He kept hold of my hand, laughing eyes on mine as he bowed toward me and brushed his lips across my knuckles—sharp contrast to Jesral who hadn’t bowed at all, though I doubted Seretis was aware of it.
“And now, my sweaty, fiery summoner,” he said, releasing my hand. “I must take my leave of you as Mzatal awaits me again.”
“It was my pleasure to meet you, Lord Seretis,” I said, actually meaning it.
Seretis beamed. “And a delight to meet you, Kara Gillian.” He turned and began to walk away, then stopped and looked back. “You could surprise Mzatal and carry all the bricks down again.” He took two steps, then stopped again. “On reconsideration, surprising Mzatal is not always the wisest course of action.” He laughed and continued toward the palace, whistling.
Grinning, I watched him go, then looked over at the bricks.
Instead I lay down in the soft grass in the shadow of the column, and took a nap.
Chapter 28
I felt as if an entire new universe was opening up for me. Mzatal introduced me to the concepts of constructing floaters, starting me out with floor glyphs: chalk first, then transitioning to pure arcane energy. That alone took several days, which gave me plenty of time to get frustrated at my lack of success and apparent inadequacy. Mzatal, however, was the model of patience, though he sure as hell wasn’t always Mr. Nice Guy, and it was clear he had no intention of coddling me or easing me into training. As Idris had warned me oh-so long ago in our first conversation back on Szerain’s tower, Mzatal had no problem letting me know when I’d screwed up. Yet, he also was quick to offer deserved praise and stuck with me until I finally had my lightbulb-over-the-head moment of understanding.
The next couple of days flew by unnoticed as he led me through grueling preparatory practices of how to manage and channel the potency flows. Some of it was familiar—refinements on known techniques—and some completely new. But by the end of the week we were both satisfied that I was ready for the next step.
Mzatal had told me that the shikvihr could only be taught by a lord, and the same held true for floaters. I thought that simply meant it wasn’t
He asked if I wanted to wait until the next day for the actual floaters since it was so late, but I knew the sooner I could get this shit down, the better, so I opted to forge ahead. Besides, I was pretty damned excited to try it. A couple of hours later, I had the kick-all-the-ass, mind-blowing “aha!” breakthrough on the floaters, and by dawn could lay consistent anchors and had a grasp on tracing multi-sigil series.
“And now it is time for you to sleep,” Mzatal told me, giving me one of his this-is-not-up-for-discussion looks when I began to protest that I was fine and could keep working. I closed my mouth, gave him a sheepish grin, and nodded assent instead.
“Come to the workroom at the mid-afternoon tone,” he said. “We will go to my nexus point and begin work directly related to recovering Szerain’s blade.”
I blinked in surprise. “I’m ready for that?”
“This is not the actual recovery, nor is it even part of the seeking,” he explained. “However, what we do will determine how we will construct those rituals in order to best utilize your unique energy signature.”
I wanted to quiz him more, but he turned me bodily and pushed me toward the bedroom. “Get in bed and sleep,” he ordered.
“Pushy fucker,” I muttered, but did as he commanded and was asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow.
After sound sleep, a bath, and plenty of food, I headed down to the workroom a little earlier than the appointed time so that I could practice all of the new stuff on my own. After about half an hour, Ilana came in and peered expectantly at me.
“You are ready?” she asked, her lovely chiming as soothing as ever.
I gave her a puzzled look. “Yeah, I guess. You’re working with us today?”
“Only to transport you to the beach,” she said with a delicate flutter of wings. “Mzatal is still in the plexus and will be here momentarily,”
I nodded and finished the sigil I was practicing, then shifted my attention to her. “Ilana, what’s the deal with Zack AKA Zakaar? Is he as off-the-charts insane as Rhyzkahl?” He’d never shown any signs of treachery but then neither had Rhyzkahl before I’d arrived in his realm. The thought of Jill, Ryan, and Tessa at the mercy of a Rhyzkahl devotee gnawed at me.
Ilana shook her head. “Zakaar is demahnk—an Elder like Helori, like me. He is separated from Rhyzkahl for two reasons, one being that he stood resolutely against Rhyzkahl’s choices several decades ago.”
“And the other?” I asked. “Or is that something you’re not allowed to talk about?”
“He chose a guardianship, also because of Rhyzkahl’s actions.”
I tugged a hand through my hair, grimacing. “Zack is close to a friend of mine. Is she safe with him?” That he was one of the elder syraza eased much of my concern, but I really
She moved in close and laid her hand on my arm. “If this is one he has chosen to protect, she could not be safer. Zakaar is the most resolute of us all.”
I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Thanks.” I still had plenty to worry about around my friends and family, but at least I could put Zakaar’s being a diabolical fiend on the back burner.
Mzatal entered, one hand behind his back and a document in the other. He wore all black today, a mid-thigh tunic-coat, pants, and boots. Strands of metallic gold woven through his complex braid were his only ornamentation.
“Afternoon, Boss,” I said, giving him a quick smile.
“Good afternoon, Kara,” he said, his eyes traveling over me in a quick assessment of who-knew-what as he moved close to Ilana. He held up the glyph-covered paper. “Today we will attempt the first ring of the beacon ritual at the nexus.”
“Cool.” I stepped in close. I’d done enough travel with Helori to know the drill. I felt no small relief that we were going to the beach this way, since I’d learned from Jekki and Faruk that the standard way down was by about a billion stairs along the cliff face.
A heartbeat later we arrived on a high beach of tumbled rock and black sand nestled in a curve of the cliffs just south of Mzatal’s palace. Ahead, more stairs led down to a lower sandy beach where I saw Idris kneeling in the light surf, splashing water over his head. I assumed he’d come down the cliff stairs, but
