I fought my way through a notebook with Farrah Fawcett on the cover that contained some excruciatingly bad poetry, and another plain yellow one with what looked like calculus homework interspersed with pages of basic summoning sigils. Tossing those aside in annoyance, I moved on to a journal with a faded blue leather cover.
My skin prickled as I paged through it. No lines of poetry or homework here. This one contained at least half a dozen date and time lists like the one I’d found for the warehouse node, except that these lists all began in handwriting far different from Tracy’s. Two different styles—one an elegant cursive, and the other a cramped print. His grandparents, I realized. Both had been summoners, killed by Rhyzkahl over thirty years ago during a failed attempt to summon Szerain.
Slowly and carefully, I deciphered the handwriting. At the top of every list was a series of numbers—most likely a coded way to ID the list, I decided. However, my tired brain refused to derive any meaning or pattern in the various series, so I mentally tabled that aspect for now. Each list also contained dates, written in the lovely cursive, from when both summoners were alive. Tracy had added more recent and upcoming dates, as well as at least a dozen of the seemingly random alliterative phrases. “Boss-boy breaks boss’s balls” and “Cowboy creek crevice creates confusion” and “Twin twilights twinkle,” but not a damn thing I could easily decipher to give me a location.
Groaning in defeat, I set aside the notebook and its stupid “Mountains mean multiple mergers” list. Figuring that shit out could go on my to-do list for after we found Idris. Right now the going-the-hell-to-bed part of my personal to-do list looked awfully appealing.
My phone rang in the kitchen where it was charging, and I groaned. “Shit.” It was so far to the kitchen. Twenty feet at least. Surely I didn’t have to get up and answer it, did I? But I should at least check the number, my far more mature conscience pointed out.
Crap. My far more mature conscience was right. Too much shit going on to ignore calls. I heaved myself up and shuffled to the kitchen, then scowled as the phone stopped ringing the instant I picked it up. I peered at the caller ID and scowled some more. Blocked. Probably stupid telemarketers. I unplugged the phone, about to stuff it in my pocket when it rang again. Blocked.
I started to hit the ignore button, then hesitated. Telemarketers didn’t usually call back. Could be a cop or something work-related.
I answered. “Kara Gillian.”
“Hey, Kara,” said a familiar voice.
It took a second for it to register. “Idris! Where are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. And I intend to stay that way,” he said, voice calm but carrying a tinge of stress.
“Where are you?” I demanded as I ran to the basement door. “We’ve been crazy worried.”
“You know I can’t tell you that, and anyway, I’m calling to tell you to lay off. Don’t try to find me. It’s better for everyone that way.”
I yanked the basement door open, started down the stairs. “Idris. What’s going on? Why shouldn’t we try to find you?” I had zero doubt this call was being monitored by Katashi’s people, but I clung to the hope that Idris could give me a clue I’d be able to decipher but wouldn’t be significant to his captors.
“I don’t want you to find me, and I know you. I know you’ll try,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
Zack and Ryan stood and looked at me as I descended to the basement. I gesticulated wildly with my free hand and mouthed “Idris.” Ryan gave a nod, pulled out his phone and started a call, likely to get the trace. Zack dug for something in his pocket as he moved toward me.
“Idris, how can you expect me to stop looking for you?” I asked as I switched the phone to speaker. “I can’t believe you don’t want to be back with us, with Mzatal.”
“Yeah. I thought that too at first, thought I needed to get back. But my perspective has changed. I’ve had new training, seen more of the truth. Kara, you need to trust me. I’m dealing with things you can’t even imagine.”
My gut twisted with the horrible fear that Idris had been manipulated. “You might be surprised.” I kept my voice steady. “I have a damn good imagination.”
Zack put a digital recorder in my free hand, and I held it close to the phone.
Idris sighed. “I care about you, and I don’t want to see you or Lord Mzatal hurt. But if you find me, the shit’s going to hit the fan and people will get hurt.”
“Idris, you know Mzatal won’t give up on you and leave you to the Mraztur. He loves you. You know that, right?”
He went quiet for a second. “I know he won’t give up. That’s why it’s up to you to convince him. We know he’s here, and we’ll be prepared for him next time. Tito died because Tsuneo hadn’t anticipated Mzatal being at the warehouse. We won’t be making that mistake again.”
Nausea churned my stomach. Manipulated? Doubtful since manipulation decreased a summoner’s ability. Or simply playing along with his captors? And obviously Katashi’s people didn’t know everything. They didn’t know Mzatal wasn’t here anymore. “We,” I echoed. “You mean you and Katashi’s flunkies? You and Rhyzkahl? How can you include yourself as part of that ‘we’ after all you and I have seen?”
“I’ve seen a lot more in the past month. At first I thought they were trying to plant a seed of doubt, wanting me to shun my old associations. But there’s far more shit going on than I ever dreamed of. You think you have everything figured out, then whoosh! the game changes.”
I paced. “Idris, we’re spinning our wheels here. Why did they risk letting you call? Just to warn us off with some nebulous threat of dire consequences? I find that hard to believe.”
“I’m calling because I told them I wanted to call. And yeah, part of it is to say please, please leave off searching for me. It’s better for everyone that way.” He said it all with utter conviction, as though he actually believed it. “But mainly, I called because I wanted to hear your voice, to talk to you.” And now his voice carried an unmistakable echo of longing. And grief.
I had no way to unravel truth from bullshit, but that didn’t stop the wrenching ache in my heart. “All right. Let’s talk about something besides us not coming after you.” I gave Ryan a desperate Anything yet? look, but he pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I locked down the seventh ring of the shikvihr a few days ago,” I told Idris.
“Yeah? You’re kicking ass,” he said with a lightness that wasn’t there before. “I bet you got hung up on the next to last sigil though. You never could balance inverse coils worth a damn.”
I let out a weak laugh. “You’re right about that, but I think I have the hang of it now. I’m a prodigy, remember?” I said with a snort of amusement. “I even shaved eight minutes off the stair climb. You still staying in shape? Running any?”
Ryan finally gave me a thumbs up which I hoped meant he had the trace, but he followed it with a keep going hand signal.
“I was until last week,” he said. “Got the ninth right before I . . . came to Earth, but I haven’t done any training in the past few days, even with Master Katashi here. There hasn’t been time.”