Still grinning, Idris loped over to the big rock to retrieve his shirt and boots. Mzatal sat cross-legged where Gestamar had lain, head lowered. I crouched beside him and slipped an arm around his shoulders.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I am tired,” he said without lifting his head, and for an instant I had the impression that he spoke of a fatigue that went far beyond the physical, a weight comprised of millennia of schemes and plans and plots. I had to resist a sudden weird urge to stroke his hair back from his face, which made no sense since it was still perfectly braided as always.
“C’mon, Boss,” I said, taking his hand. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Mzatal remained utterly still for another moment, then squeezed my hand and stood. “Were it all in your control, Kara Gillian, I would know that to be the truth.”
“I’m a tenacious bitch, remember?”
He began to smile, then abruptly straightened and turned fully to the beacon diagram, grip tightening on my hand.
My fatigue dropped away as excitement flared. “Did it find it? Is it working?”
He didn’t answer, barely even breathing as he kept his full focus on the beacon. A few seconds later the ritual flared, the sigils carved on the columns flickered to life with a faint blue glow, and a single clear tone sounded.
I sucked in a sharp breath as the tone seared through me, seeming to set every cell in my body alight. The sensation faded after a few seconds, though I still felt a bit strange, as if someone was watching me from the inside.
Idris came up beside me, face alight with wonder though he didn’t seem as flattened by the tone as I was. Then again, I was the focus, the one who’d be calling the blade. Made sense that it would hit me the hardest.
Mzatal released my hand and draped his arm over my shoulder. “Rhyzkahl knows now.”
I nodded. Mzatal had warned us earlier that the beacon would be impossible to hide. “When do we go?”
“Tomorrow. We will arrive at Szerain’s palace at dawn.”
I smiled. “Does this mean I can take a bath tonight and sleep in a real bed?”
He dropped his gaze to me, gave me a smile haunted by concern for Gestamar and possibly more. “Yes. We both need—” He took a deep breath. “Yes. Bath and rest for you.”
“You need to sleep too,” I said with a glare, though I had to admit, he already looked way better than while Gestamar was gone. “Make tonight your weekly nap.” I swept my gaze around, taking in the beacon ritual and the disturbed sand that was all that remained of the battle for Gestamar. “This is going to work. We’re a damn good team. I mean, look at what we just did. We kicked those asstards in the goddamn balls.”
A measure of the morose pall seemed to lift from him. “Yes, it was truly harmonious.”
“Harmonious asskicking,” I said. “It doesn’t get any better than that.”
Chapter 40
I came fully and suddenly awake, as if a switch had been thrown, then lay perfectly still, listening and cautiously sensing with othersight as I tried to figure out what had roused me so thoroughly. A light breeze drifted through the open balcony doors, bringing with it the scent of the sea and of the demon-realm equivalent of pines. Far in the distance some sort of night creature called and received an answering cry. It was still full night, but the moon was higher in the sky than when I drifted off. I’d been asleep for a few hours at least.
But nothing seemed amiss. None of the wards had been tripped. No intruder or danger, as far as I could tell. Mzatal wasn’t in the bedroom or bath chamber, and I didn’t sense his presence in the main room. I looked to the balcony, but I didn’t see him in his usual spot by the railing either. Most likely he was with Gestamar, or in the summoning chamber, in final preparations for the morning.
The grove shimmered in the distance, casting a scintillating aura of green, purple and gold unlike anything I’d ever seen from it before. I pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around me as I moved out to the balcony. When I reached the rail, I tucked the sheet a little more securely, then spread my hands on the cool stone. The starry sky glittered in a cloudless expanse above, and the moon drifted high, half full. I gazed across at the curiously activated grove and carefully extended, touching the semi-sentience, gently exploring its ancient power and beauty. It responded in kind, extending questing tendrils. Still and silent on the balcony, I communed with the grove, pulled power and let it flicker over my skin in green and gold iridescence.
My understanding of it grew, as did my grasp of how to best use its potency, and, most importantly, how to control it. It wasn’t “mother nature” or “Earth power” or anything like that, but more like a strange, alien power source that had been nurtured and shaped by beings long gone from this world.
And how long will I be gone from my own world? I allowed the feelings to rise of how homesick I was, how desperately I missed my aunt and all my friends. I swallowed against the lump in my throat and felt the grove respond like a song in my essence. “I miss them,” I whispered. Its potency swirled around me whispering back. Though I couldn’t translate what it said, I knew what it meant for me to do. Inhaling deeply, I gathered more power, enough to coalesce into a radiant orb before me.
I want them to know I’m safe.
Lifting my arms, I pulled the power into a tight coil, breathed my wish into it, then released it and watched it disperse across the balcony and to the grove and beyond in a transparent shimmering wave. Slowly the grove subsided to its usual softly glowing quiescence, though I still vibrated with the energy.
After several minutes the power settled to a gentle and peaceful resonance, and I shivered in the faint chill of the night breeze, unnoticed while I’d communed with the grove. Smiling, I turned and headed back inside.
Three steps in I stopped dead in my tracks.
Mzatal stood at the end of the bed, radiating potency, and without a trace of the earlier weariness. He wore only his robe: sumptuous deep red silk with sleeves and hem adorned in intricate silver stitching. His thick braid hung over his right shoulder, and, as I stared, he deftly unwound the silver cord that bound it. His eyes stayed on me as he dropped the cord and ran his fingers though the bottom half of the complex braid, separating the shining black strands.
My pulse made a weird double-beat. I’d never ever seen his hair unbraided.
“You are exquisite,” he murmured, gaze devouring me as he slid his fingers through the twists of hair, freeing more of the thick fall until it hung loose below his shoulder. I took a slow step toward him, heart pounding at the effect those three words had on me.
Mzatal lowered his head, eyes intense as he lifted his arms and reached back to unweave the last of the braid. His robe parted as he did so, and…yeah. He ran his fingers through his hair, then shook it out over his shoulders, gaze never leaving me.
“Exquisite,” he murmured again, and I damn near forgot to breathe. Unbound, his hair hung past his ass in a perfect, rippling fall straight out of a shampoo commercial. Holy shit, but he was gorgeous. Not beautiful like Rhyzkahl, but hot and male and…wow.
I let the sheet fall to the floor. It was a totally cliché move, but, yep, had to be done.
Mzatal smoothly shrugged off the robe and dropped it onto the chair beside him. The air between us crackled with the potency he held and the grove power that still hummed within me. His eyes traveled over my body as I slowly moved toward him, every inch of my skin tingling in acknowledgement of his gaze.