And that, boys and girls, is why you should never sigil in bed, I thought with a low laugh as I cleaned up the mess.
Mzatal attended to my training as much as possible; there were many hours, however, during which he remained in closed-door meetings with Vahl. Fortunately, I was at a point where the best thing I could do was practice practice practice what I’d already learned. Idris would have helped, but the boy wonder was tied up with some sort of from-scratch development of a new interlinking diagram method that he and Mzatal had brainstormed. Thankfully, Gestamar stayed close by to help me in case I had questions. Or maybe he stuck close by in case I tried to set the place on fire again. Either was possible.
“Tomorrow is the full moon on Earth,” Gestamar abruptly said, startling me enough that I lost control of the sigil I was crafting. He quickly flicked a claw and dispelled it before it could do more than deliver a light sting.
I gave him a somewhat sour look. “Okay. But we don’t have to worry about phases of the moon here, do we? I mean, there’s shitloads of available potency.”
The tip of his tail twitched. “Dahn, but demons will be summoned to earth from here, and I am often among those summoned.”
“Because you’re so awesome?” I grinned.
“Kri,” he replied with a proud lift of his chin. “But this is not why I tell you of the full moon.” His eyes met mine as he folded his wings in close. “Jekki and the zhurn Bezik are also oft-summoned, and we have agreed to carry letters for you and do what we can to have them safely delivered to your loved ones.”
For the longest moment I could only stare at him while I processed this. “Thank you,” I finally managed. He was offering me a chance to personally let Tessa and the others know I was safe and sound. Mzatal’s communication with Earth was shot to hell with Katashi’s defection, and he wouldn’t have a solid back-up system in effect for at least a couple of months. He did have some sort of verbal arrangement in place to get word to my people in case any of his demons were summoned, but, by his own admission, it was unreliable at best, especially since the communication skills of many of the demons weren’t the greatest. A physical letter made it all feel real, as if I could touch the folks back home.
“I…wow.” I swiped at my eyes, which had somehow become a bit moist. “Thank you,” I repeated.
Gestamar gave a gentle rumble. “Go and write three copies of a letter.” He paused. “And best not to set them on fire.”
“Will I ever live that down?” I asked with a laugh.
The reyza snorted. “Dahn. Demons have long memories and are easily amused.”
It took me most of the rest of the day to write a letter to Tessa, primarily because I had no idea how to explain every thing. I finally gave up and kept it short and simple, telling her I was all right and would be home as soon as possible. I didn’t want to go into any of the other stuff in a letter, and the most important thing was to let her know I was alive and reasonably safe.
There was no sign of Mzatal that night or the next morning, but around mid-afternoon Jekki handed me a trifold parchment with Mzatal’s seal in wax on it. The elegant, handwritten note simply said to please go to the atrium for the evening tone. Please.
An actual written invitation? Weird.
I turned to ask Jekki what it was all about, but forgot my question entirely at the sight of the faas laying clothing out upon the bed.
“This wear!” the faas burbled, pointing to what looked like flowing pants and shirt in a rich maroon. “Tonight. Bathe now and hair Faruk do.”
My eyebrows lifted as my bafflement increased, but I knew better than to defy Jekki’s directive. I cleaned up, allowed Faruk to do my hair in a complex braid complete with gold and silver strands woven through, donned the new clothing and elegant jeweled sandals, and then headed to the atrium.
Idris stood watching the beginning of the sunset when I stepped off the stairs. He was dressed to the nines as well, in black jeans, a crisp white tailored shirt, and a grey silk and wool blend jacket. It was a good look for him. Even his hair had been tamed. A bit.
“Hey, Idris,” I said, “do you know what this is about?”
“No clue,” he replied with a smile. “It’s a first for me.”
“Maybe we’re being fired,” I said, “for being simply awful.”
Idris laughed along with me. “Somehow I don’t think that would come with a fancy invite. Did the faas dress you too?”
Grinning, I looked down and ran my hands over my outfit. “Yep. Good thing or I’d have shown up in workout clothing.”
A soft scrape of sound alerted us, and we turned to see Mzatal step into the atrium, wearing the dark Armani suit, white shirt, and a deep red tie. His braid hung over his shoulder wound with extra strands of silver cord, and he looked sharp as all hell.
“This way,” he said with an enigmatic smile. He turned and headed down stairs I’d yet to explore. With a glance at Idris, I followed, curious and puzzled. After a couple of turns of the spiral stair, we stepped out into a room dancing with light and color. As everywhere else, a wall of glass faced the sea and sunset, but here, the waterfall cascaded before it, spectacular rays of the setting sun streaming through.
Then came the bewildering part.
Mzatal strode to the head of a dining table elaborately laid with crystal, silver, and fine china. He glanced at us and gestured to the chairs on each side of the table. Gestamar came in behind us and moved to crouch near Mzatal.
Idris slid a look at me, and I gave him a what-the-fucking-fuck look right back. I moved to a chair, pulled it out, and sank into it, utterly mystified. Idris sat across from me with a look on his face that mirrored how I felt. I got that we’d apparently been invited to a meal, but that in itself was weird. I’d eaten plenty of times around Mzatal, but apart from wine and tunjen, I rarely saw him eat, and had certainly never shared a meal with him
Mzatal stood behind his chair, a faint smile curving his lips. “You have both worked very hard,” he said, “and are away from your homes.” He waited while the faas poured wine in our three glasses, then drew a breath as though delaying a moment more to choose his words. “With the fullness of your schedules, you have lost track of your Earth time,” he continued. “This is a day that each of you typically celebrate with your family and with your friends. I cannot offer those, but I can offer the recognition and something of the celebration. Happy Christmas, Idris Palatino and Kara Gillian.”
A weird jolt went through me, a strange combination of dismay and pleased surprise. Idris simply stared, brow slightly furrowed.
I’m going to miss Christmas with Tessa. My throat tightened in preparation for a lovely bout of feeling sorry for myself. But Idris is away from his family, too, I reminded myself. And he had to lie to them; through Katashi, they’d been told he was in Japan. Now that Katashi proved himself untrustworthy, who knew what, if anything, Idris’s family was being told. Ruthlessly I shoved the self-pity down.
Mzatal lifted his glass, smile fading a bit, obviously sensing the muddled emotions. “Here. Drink.”
I forced a smile as I picked up my glass and took a sip of the really good dark wine. “Merry Christmas, Boss. Thanks for remembering.”
Idris cleared his throat, seeming to have recovered a bit from his initial shock. “Yeah, um. Thanks. Really,” he said and lifted his glass.
The doubt seemed to linger in Mzatal’s eyes, and I realized it had to run fairly deep if it was actually showing. Damn it, he’d made an all out effort to do something for us, even if it did sting. Sure, I could get into a big pity party about having to miss Christmas with the folks back home, but that would pretty much guarantee that my Christmas here would suck shit. Truth was, I couldn’t find it in me anymore to resent Mzatal for summoning me. If he and Idris hadn’t brought me here, then Rhyzkahl certainly would’ve carried out his plans, and there wouldn’t have been anyone to rescue me.