Legacy of the Demon by Diana Rowland
“You okay?” Pellini said.
“Yeah.” I gulped. “Got a little distracted, but I’m good.” The potency globe began to hiss and shudder, and I hurried to cradle it between both hands and stabilize it. But my gut clenched as I saw strands of rakkuhr merging and snaking on the grass beyond Rhyzkahl’s orbit. The globe. The rakkuhr was attracted to it. Cold sweat broke out beneath my arms as old terror whispered of hideous pain.
No! I pushed down the irrational fear. There was no sentience or malevolent purpose at work here. The rakkuhr moved mindlessly—one form of energy attracted to another. It was Rhyzkahl’s will and purpose that had delivered agony to me through his rakkuhr-enhanced essence blade. Screw him. I wasn’t going to let the Ghost of Torture Past ruin my work.
“Pellini, can you put a simple shielding veil around the nexus?”
“Sure thing,” he said and did so. “It won’t last long against the rakkuhr, though. It’ll weaken every time the stuff brushes it.”
“It’ll last long enough.” The potency tingled against my palms. I recalled the feel of Szerain and the dimensional pocket, amplified and focused it into the globe. My nexus-boosted senses kicked in to give me a lord’s eye view of the potency flows in the vicinity of the outreach center, and with the resonance of the globe acting as magnifying glass and Szerain-detector, I began a meticulous search of the arcane landscape.
After a few minutes, the globe began to vibrate and buzz like a balloon full of angry wasps. Where the common room would be, potency bubbled up like dry ice in water, creating clouds of luminous fog that hugged the ground and coalesced to feed surrounding flows.
I stared, dumbfounded. Why in blazes hadn’t Pellini or I seen or sensed that when we were there? A second later I gave myself a mental forehead smack. Duh. Same reason I couldn’t see ultraviolet or radiation or x-rays. That potency fountain was in a different “spectrum,” one that my lordy supertastic nexus vision allowed me to see.
Around the potency fountain, rakkuhr oozed and pooled like coruscating ruby syrup. Beautiful in its own way, I thought then gave a mental shudder. Lava could be beautiful, but that didn’t mean I should go swimming in it.
But no resonance match to Szerain or his dimensional pocket. I scrutinized the area to no avail. Three times I conducted a painstaking scan. Nothing. Frustrated, I centered the globe on the focal point of the bubbling potency and stared at the mesmerizing fluctuations. I’d been so sure I could locate him, that this would be the plan that worked. I was getting sick and tired of starting over at square one.
As I stewed in my annoyance, a pattern emerged. Each bubble carried a spark of resonance like a red-ringed speck of crystalline glitter on the surface of distortion.
“I found them!” I shouted in elation. “They’re using the turbulence of a potency spring along with a touch of rakkuhr to mask their location.”
“Great!” Pellini said. “Now what?”
I thought quickly. “I’m betting Szerain and Zack shift things up regularly, like changing the combination on a lock. That’s what I’d do in their place. But it means the feeling I picked up earlier will likely be obsolete soon.” A decision solidified. “I’m going to try to reach them. Maybe even bring them home.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Tell me what to do.”
As if I was unwinding a ball of yarn, I extruded a strand of potency from the globe and passed the end to him. “Hang on tight to this. It may take both of us to pull them through.” I continued to unwind the potency until the globe was no larger than an orange. “Oh, and save my ass if I get in trouble.”
He snorted. “That’s item one in my job description.”
“Har har.” I reassessed the bubbling potency spring then hurled the ball and its trailing potency strand toward it, as if casting a fishing line into the perfect spot beneath an overhang. Once it settled, I’d send a signal down the line.
With zero warning or the slightest nibble, the line jerked with enough force to send me sprawling. “Hold onto it!” I yelled to Pellini then scrambled up to one knee, wrapped the strand in both fists, and braced against the pull. Szerain’s signature resonated through the connection, though with no hint of the others. Breath hissing through my teeth, I tapped the nexus resources and drew the strand toward me, hand over hand. It thinned to little more than a glowing thread yet held strong. Szerain’s presence intensified. I almost had—
The balance tipped. I let out a shocked urk! as Szerain’s aura enveloped me, dragging me forward.
“Kara!” Pellini yelled.
This was so not part of the plan. I fought to hold on, invoked the nexus, and anchored strands, all to no avail. This had the feel of an attack. What the hell was Szerain doing? Did he not want to be rescued? Had I been wrong about him this whole time?
Szerain yanked me through what felt like viscous snot loaded with razor blades. Before I could form a mental scream, I collapsed face down on a cool, glassy surface. Blinding golden light flared, seeming to penetrate all the way to my bones before settling into a soft glow. Twinges of pain skittered through my limbs like electrified fleas on speed. I tried to scramble to my feet, but my muscles didn’t want to cooperate.
Strong hands gripped my upper arms and hauled me up. Szerain.
While my body refused to obey my orders to struggle, he crushed me in an embrace and hugged my head to his shoulder. “You foolish, headstrong, insane, brilliant woman.”
Whew. Not an attack. Still a good guy. “You forgot pushy bitch,” I croaked. The pain eased, either through Szerain’s doing or on its own. I still fell like a ragdoll, though. “Something went wrong. I thought I had you, but—”
“Kara, you did. I mean, you would have if I’d wanted to come through.” He pushed me out to arm’s length and eyed me critically. His features were Szerain’s, and the gold-flecked green eyes were the same as Ryan’s, though somehow they held more vitality despite the dark circles beneath them. “I reversed your hook and dragged you here.”
“Here” was a golden bubble surrounded by darkness and not much larger than a stall in a public restroom. A dimensional pocket, I assumed.
“But why?” I asked, perplexed. “Don’t you want to be rescued?”
“Not without preparation on both ends. We’d be sitting ducks for Xharbek.” He released my shoulders, but kept a supporting hand on my arm.
“No, see, Mzatal turned my nexus into—”
“I know about your nexus,” he said. “We felt it when Mzatal created the link to Rhyzkahl. But it’s not enough.”
I sighed as my plan crumbled. “Where are the others?”
“Still in our stronghold. It was safer for Ashava if I came out and met you.”
“How is she?” I gave him a worried look. “Jill is going crazy.”
His eyes lit up as he smiled. “She thrives. She’s strong and clever. Smarter than me, I’m certain.”
“Well, so is Fuzzykins.”
Szerain laughed. “All right. Smarter than Mzatal.”
“That’s pretty smart.” A pang went through me at how much I’d missed this kind of back-and-forth. “What about the others? Is Sonny doing okay? Has Zack recovered at all?”
“Sonny is coping with the situation as well as can be expected, and he dotes on Ashava. They’re good for each other. Zakaar . . .” Deep worry shadowed his eyes. “Zakaar continues to fade.” Grief tinged his voice. “We’re on alert twenty-four seven, which means he’s had no recovery time.”
His bleak expression shouted what he hadn’t said: Even spending weeks lounging stress-free in Tahiti wouldn’t be enough to save Zack. He needed more than mere time. For the fifteen years of Szerain’s submersion as Ryan, Zack had not only been his guard and guardian, but his lifeline to sanity in the inhumane prison. And now it tore at Szerain that he couldn’t do a damn thing to save him.
“I’m so sorry.” Without thinking
Szerain briefly tightened his embrace then released me. “I can’t determine the timing and nuances until I have a update on everything that’s happened since Katashi blew the PD valve. However, I can start laying out the basics.” He lifted his hand, and a spiral notepad and pencil appeared in it out of thin air—or, rather, out of a handy dimensional storage pocket.
“You should teach me that trick,” I said. “I need a place to store my summer clothes, plus I could finally clear out the shed in my back yard.”
His mouth quirked into a sly smile. “How can I amaze and mystify if I give away my secrets?” He flipped to a blank page and began to sketch interlocking sigils. “You’ll need to create a matching trio of diagrams on your nexus then reach for us, as you did just now, and pull us through. The nexus setup will act as a temporary bunker until we can raise the needed protections to keep Xharbek at bay.” He paused and met my eyes. “In the meantime, Zakaar, Ashava, and I have much planning to do.”
Ashava, planning? I had a sudden mental image of a baby wearing an Army general’s uniform, moving miniature tanks and soldiers around a map.
On the other hand, the kid had only been a few minutes old when she kicked serious ass at the Beaulac PD and prevented the valve explosion from being exponentially worse. Maybe Ashava’s involvement in the planning wasn’t so ludicrous after all.
However, getting him caught up wasn’t going to be easy. “You missed a lot of stuff after you and Zack vanished with Ashava,” I said. “For starters, Idris killed Katashi. Except it wasn’t really Katashi. A syraza was masquerading as Katashi for who the hell knows how long. And the syraza ended up dead-dead because about eighty percent of the killed demons aren’t making it through the void. Right after the blast, an Earthgate popped up in the Ruthie’s Smoothies parking lot. Kadir came through it yesterday, but we don’t know where he is now. Rifts have been opening—” I stopped, frustrated. Every event intersected with a buttload of other important points without respect to chronology. “This isn’t working. There’s no way I can give you a coherent and comprehensive summary before we both die of starvation. Just read it from me.”
Szerain tore out the page of diagram sketches, stuffed it into my hand then sent the notebook back to its interdimensional hidey-hole. “I can’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’ve shielded yourself.”
“Shielded myself? No, Zack and Helori did it to protect sensitive info.”
“Yes, but it’s more than just demahnk tampering.” His eyes went distant as he seemed to ponder the concept, then they flashed with fierce amusement. “I bet it chaps Xharbek’s ass that he can’t read you.”
I grinned at the very Ryan-like remark. I couldn’t imagine ever hearing those words from Rhyzkahl or Mzatal. “My shielding definitely frustrated the hell out of Xharbek at Fed Central when—” I shook my head as his gaze sharpened on me. “See? There’s way too much to tell. Can’t I let you in somehow?”
“Possibly, if you open to me. It’s worth a try.” He placed his hands on each side of my head and leaned down to touch his forehead to mine. “Xharbek can’t read me either. None of the demahnk can without my consent. I chose submersion and exile to Earth rather than put myself at their mercy again.”
Great. He’d dropped yet another snippet of info, but I was still missing the meat of the story. “Why can’t you go ahead and tell me everything?” I asked somewhat petulantly. “If I can’t be read, then you don’t have to worry about the demahnk finding sensitive info in my brain.”
Szerain lifted his head and blinked at me. “That actually makes an enormous amount of sense.” The golden light dimmed like a flashlight with a weak battery. He cursed under his breath. “We don’t have much time. We’re well shielded, but Xharbek is seeking.”
“Then hurry up and find out what you need to know.” Fortunately, I had plenty of experience with mental touch through my connection with Mzatal, and I drew on that familiarity to relax and open. Ghost images of rifts and demons, DIRT teams, giant crystals, Pellini, and more flashed in my mind as Szerain scanned months in a moment. Sudden worry hit me. What if he discovered something that triggered a lord headache?
“No need to fret,” he said. “I’m free of those fucking headaches.” He paused. “And I already know my parentage.”
I exhaled in relief, but then I winced. His own father was after him. That had to suck.
“No, Xharbek isn’t my—” His grip spasmed tight on my head. “Elinor! Xharbek has her.” He staggered back, eyes wide with shock.
“See, I knew I’d forget to tell you important shit! Yeah, she’s on Earth and so is Giovanni. Trust me, I was just as shocked, but we’re already working on rescue plans.” So what if they were all shitty. “Maybe Zack could teleport you in as soon as we get y’all home? Snatch her and poof—” I shook my head. “No, forget I said that. Zack’s probably too weak to do any teleporting.”
“You’re right. It would destroy him.” Szerain’s forehead creased as he stared off over my head. “Even so, we can’t return to Earth while Xharbek has Elinor.”
“Why? What difference does that make?”
“She has a strong connection to me. He’ll use that like a tracking device, with an alarm set to go off the moment I leave interdimensional space.” The weariness in his face deepened. “He’d be on us—on Ashava—the instant we arrived on the nexus.”
“Why does he want Ashava so badly?”
“She’s a free demahnk-human hybrid, and he can’t allow her to remain free.” He shook his head. “It has something to do with the demahnk codes of conduct.”
“Why didn’t he just teleport in and kidnap Jill when she was pregnant?” But then I scowled. “Wait. He tried but had flunkies attempt to nab her rather than doing it himself.”
“He couldn’t intervene directly,” Szerain said with a nod. “Not until after Ashava was born.”
“Zack tiptoed around ancient oaths and agreements made with entities he referred to as ‘the others.’” I made a face. “They sounded more like ‘the enforcers,’ to me.”
“The demahnk constraints are a mystery to me, but I do know Xharbek is the least restricted of their kind.” He drew a deep breath and focused on me. “One step at a time. You must get Elinor. What are your rescue plans?”
I made a face. “Nothing workable yet. See for yourself.” I gestured toward my head.
A tremor shook the bubble, and the golden light flickered. Szerain scanned the darkness surrounding us then seized my head and dove into my mind with no subtlety. “Mzatal. No. Helori, definitely no. Conventional assault. No no no.” He went still. “Dekkak. With the gimkrah and a graphene net? Yes!” He released me. “Kara, that’s genius. And the full moon is only—”
“Whoa whoa whoa.” I stabbed him with a glare. “There’s the teensy issue of me having to learn the lost art of summoning a Jontari imperator—in a matter of days—without instructions.”
“You can’t learn the summoning in such a short time,” he said. “Not even with months of training. But with your innate gifts and the gimkrah and the nexus at your disposal, you have what’s needed to know it.”
“Know it,” I echoed, then peered at him. “Do you have any idea how much sense you’re not making?”
“Be lordy,” he said as if that answered all. “Be the summoning.”
I made a strangled noise. “That didn’t help! What the fuck does that even mean?”
“You’ll understand,” he said with annoying calm. “I have the utmost faith in you.”
“Fine. Whatever.” My
Szerain gently took my hands. “I know it would pierce you to your very essence to be the instrument of tragedy, even if indirectly. However, there’s no faster or more certain means to recover Elinor, and the damage in Dekkak’s wake would be as nothing compared to what will come if Xharbek restores Elinor.”
“Why would he want to . . .” The answer hit me with a frisson of primal terror. “Because he and the Mraztur still want a weaponized summoner. Rhyzkahl failed to turn me into Rowan, but with Elinor, they have the original.”
Szerain nodded once, a simple movement laden with centuries of anguish. “If Xharbek restores Elinor, he’ll give the Mraztur a tool capable of destroying Earth.”
“But how could he possibly hope to restore her if the majority of her essence is safely trapped in Vsuhl?”
His eyes met mine. “Because it’s not. You have it all.”
I stared at him in horror. “Wait. What?”
“It had stayed far too long in Vsuhl’s possession and was beginning to degenerate.” A bleak note shadowed his voice. “I risked losing it altogether, and I’d long given up hope of Elinor herself returning.”
Sympathy chased away my unease. “It was a way to preserve it.”
He nodded. “And, in theory, a way to tap its—her—potential, if encapsulated and fused to a host rather than simply merging essences.”
“Sort of like how if someone’s hand gets chopped off doctors might sew it to their ankle to keep it alive until it can be reattached?”
He gave me a long look before laughing under his breath. “God, you’re weird,” he said and wrapped me in a hug.