Fear flickered behind his eyes as he looked up into Mzatal’s face. “How can I do tracings?” he asked, voice trembling.
“You can trace with it now,” Mzatal assured him, “though not with the fluidity of before. With work you will increase the movement and adapt so that it is again natural to you.” Confidence and calm flowed from him as he placed a hand on Idris’s shoulder. “Of this I have no doubt.”
“Physical therapy, dude,” I told him with as encouraging a smile as I could manage. “You’ll be knitting sweaters out of potency in no time.”
Idris gave me a shaky smile of his own as he flexed his hand a few times. “Yeah. Knitting.” He drew a breath, then released it in a rush. “I gotta lot of work to do.”
My smile faded as I looked at the scar on his palm. Anger seared through me, burning away the last of the fear and panic.
“We all do.”
Chapter 31
I sat on the chaise on the solarium balcony, elbows on knees, with a glass of chilled wine held to my forehead. Mzatal stood a few feet away, hands clenched at his sides as he looked out into the darkness. He was pissed, and I didn’t need to be able to read his mind to know it.
I straightened and took a long drink, worry curling through me for Idris and for myself. “I’m really glad you chopped that asshole’s arm off.”
“I was blind and I was a fool.” He spat the words out, fists tightening. “And I am unaccustomed to being either.” He exhaled forcefully. “He was within a heartbeat of taking you.”
“Yeah, that part kinda sucked,” I said, trying to make light of it and failing. Sighing, I set my glass down, then moved to Mzatal and wrapped my arms around him from behind. “He didn’t take me. You stopped him. I’m still here to annoy the crap out of you.”
Some of the tension left his body as he folded his arms over mine. He drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “Annoy. Is that what you do to me?”
I let out a soft laugh. “That’s what I keep trying to do,” I said. “Not sure if I’m succeeding.”
He turned and wrapped his arms around me, a whisper of a smile on his face as he cradled my head to his chest. “You are failing utterly in the moment.”
Exhaling, I relaxed against him. “That’s cool. Failure builds character.”
He held me close for a moment, then released me gently and draped an arm over my shoulders. Heavy clouds shielded stars and moon, and only the surging crash of waves far below reminded me that I gazed into physical darkness and not the void. He tucked me in close, and moved his other hand behind his back. “In your perception,” he began, “what has shifted on Earth in the time since Rhyzkahl first came through?”
I considered for a moment. “Well, I suppose it starts, at least for me, with finding out last spring that Peter Cerise was the Symbol Man: a serial killer who was trying to summon and bind Rhyzkahl.”
“Yes. Cerise lost his balance and all reason decades ago when—” Mzatal stopped, and I could see him mentally rephrasing it, “when his foundation was stripped from him. He was a chosen of Szerain and quite brilliant. He disappeared, and Katashi claimed no knowledge of his whereabouts.”
That he was a chosen of Szerain’s made sense to me and helped explain why Cerise had attempted to summon that lord to aid his ailing wife. “Okay, well…” I hesitated, unsure how to go into the subject of Ryan. Then I snorted. Mzatal knew I knew, so dancing around the subject seemed ridiculous at this point. Mzatal was oathbound about pretty much anything to do with Ryan/Szerain, but I wasn’t constrained by any pesky oaths. “It was during that time that I met Ryan and Zack.”
“That would not be a coincidence,” Mzatal said with a nod.
“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that.” But engineered by whom? “Ryan and I have become close,” I said. “Friends and, well, more than friends, too.” I shook my head. “Anyway, it wasn’t long after Eilahn came to protect me that we had a case go to shit, and we ended up in a weird fight with a bunch of golems. Things went downhill, and at one point I got knocked down. I was about to get totally squished by a golem, and Ryan…” I took a deep breath. “Ryan’s face went to ice. He pulled potency and blasted the fuck out of the golem, saving me.” A shudder raced down my spine. “And then he collapsed. Zack ran to him—snarled at us and told us he’d take care of Ryan.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I didn’t see Ryan for a week, and by then he was back to—” I winced. “—normal.”
“You spoke to Turek at Szerain’s shrine,” Mzatal said after a moment. “And so you know something more than you did when you arrived.” A whisper of frustration touched his eyes. I had a pretty strong feeling that he wanted to ask questions, but was constrained by the damn oath that prohibited talk of Szerain’s exile.
“I know Ryan is Szerain,” I said. “And I know Zack is Zakaar. But Ryan doesn’t know. And Turek says it’s dangerous for him to know himself.”
“Because Rhyzkahl will take more definitive measures to—” Mzatal paused. “He would take more definitive measures.”
“Is he…” I trailed off. I desperately wanted to know if Szerain and Ryan were at all alike, but I knew that Mzatal wouldn’t be able to answer me directly. “If, um, a lord were to be exiled,” I tried instead, “would their exiled persona be very different from their true personality?”
Mzatal’s whole body tensed as a deep anger seemed to flow from him, though I was fairly certain it wasn’t directed at me. “I cannot speak of this, of him,” he said through clenched teeth. “But I will speak of something else,” he continued, lifting the arm from my shoulders. “A mere story about possibilities with me and with you.”
The intensity in his voice sent a frisson of cold fear through me, but I had a feeling that if I didn’t find out all I could now, I might never know. And I need to know.
“Were I to diminish you,” he said in a low, dark voice, “to strip you of the ability to use your skills or to even maintain memory of yourself, there are many ways I could accomplish this. Some would leave you with nothing of yourself and some would leave you with more.” He lowered his head.
A chill crawled through me. “Go on,” I managed.
“One very particular way would leave you with all memory of yourself, but only the ability to express that which fits a certain predetermined model.” The tension returned to his body, and he breathed a word that was most definitely a demon curse.
The cold in my gut deepened. “S-so, I would be completely aware but trapped behind a wall?”
“No,” he replied, voice going even more intense. “That is far too mild of a description for how I would submerge you.”
My hands tightened into fists. “How would you do it?”
Mzatal turned to me, potency flaring. “How deeply do you wish to understand, Kara Gillian?”
I hesitated, then straightened, lifting my chin, though my heart pounded. “I need to know. Show me what was done to Szerain.”
He shook his head, eyes never leaving mine. “I cannot speak of that, nor do that.” He paused, and the air around us seemed to grow heavy and charged. “I can show you precisely how I would submerge you were I to do so to bring about the greatest torment.”
My mouth went dry as my resolve wavered. It’s only a demonstration, I told myself. I can trust him. I dragged in a careful breath. I’d survived Rhyzkahl’s torture. I could endure this submersion for a few minutes. And I needed to know, for Ryan, and for myself.