I met his eyes with a serious gaze. “Mzatal, I promise you now that I will always be the person you can count on to bug the crap out of you and call you on your bullshit.”
“And I will hold you to that promise, Kara Gillian,” he said. Then, to my surprise, he let out a low laugh. “In reconsideration, perhaps I do know of two moments when I truly began to reassess everything about you.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him in question.
Smiling, he lifted his hand to his throat, middle finger extended. “When we were last at Szerain’s palace, after your injury, you touched the collar thus and said that you knew your place. I had no choice but to leave the room or laugh outright, completely dissolving my carefully maintained demeanor.”
I grinned. “And the other?”
“After I told you of Elinor’s energy signature. When you referred to it as,” his smile spread a bit wider, “‘Elinor’s magic kidney,’ again it was all I could do not to laugh.”
And here I’d thought he was a humorless fuck. “What can I say? I have a unique outlook.”
“One I would not trade for anything.”
I turned and leaned on the railing to look out at the sea. Distant clouds shrouded the horizon, and flying creatures swooped along the cliff edge. A breeze brought the taste of salt and warmth. Mzatal moved to stand next to me, hip grazing mine.
I flicked a glance his way. “So, when do we go back to finding this stupid knife?”
A hint of amusement curved his mouth. “Vsuhl is far more than a stupid knife.”
“I’m not going to call a knife by a name. Especially one as silly as ‘Vsuhl,’” I teased with a roll of my eyes, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Is there anything else you name?”
The amusement increased, and he raised an eyebrow right back at me. “I have names for many things. But to answer your question, we begin as soon as Idris prepares.” He shifted to drape an arm over my shoulders. “But for now, I wish to enjoy the view. And the company.”
Smiling, I slipped an arm around his waist and leaned in to him. “They’re both pretty damn nice.”
Chapter 38
My favorite faas in the whole world crouched by the side of the bed with a mug of coffee cradled in his hands. I grinned and threw off the covers. “Oh, Jekki, if you weren’t already taken…”
Jekki tilted his head and gave me a confused burble. “Don’t mind me,” I said with a laugh as I pulled on a robe. “I’m punchy because I actually got a full night’s sleep. And here you are with coffee, ready and waiting!” The last couple of weeks had been psycho busy with training and ritual preparation, but thanks to a progress-halting snag yesterday, I had the luxury of much needed sleep. Okay, it kinda sucked that we’d run into a snag, but, damn, I actually felt halfway rested.
I glanced through the doorway to see Mzatal still sitting at the table in the outer chamber tracing sigils and making notes—exactly where he’d been when I went to bed. I snorted. “Let me guess. He’s been there all night and hasn’t eaten since, what, yesterday morning? The day before?”
“Ate bits, some, morning two days,” Jekki said, holding the coffee out to me.
I took the mug and sipped, then exhaled in pleasure. Jekki knew how to stay on my good side. “Right. Could you please bring a plate of fruit, some cheese, and a fresh jug of tunjen for him?” I asked. As Jekki turned to go, I added, “And a bowl of that honey custard stuff he likes.” If nothing else, maybe he’d eat that.
I followed the faas out into the main chamber. Mzatal glanced toward me with a faint smile as I set my coffee on the table and moved behind him, but then immediately returned his focus to the sigil before him.
I placed my hands on his shoulders and began to massage the tight muscles. “Take a break, Boss.”
Mzatal set the sigil spinning, then let out an exasperated sigh. “I still cannot determine the sequitur of this final series for the beacon, and we cannot proceed without it. All else is complete.” He scrubbed his hand over his face in a very rare gesture of frustration.
“Yeah, well, take a break and maybe it’ll come to you,” I said, continuing with the massage. “You sure as hell won’t figure it out when you’re tense and hungry and cranky.”
He exhaled a that-hurts-but-don’t-stop breath and dropped his head back to look up at me. “Tense, admittedly. Hungry, undeniably.” His expression turned doubtful with a hint of a smile. “Perhaps methodical, calculating, and focused. But cranky?”
I laughed. “Well, I rescind the cranky label for now, but only if you rest and eat,” I said. “I know you’re a big bad lord, but you still need food every once in a while.” I dug my thumbs into knotted muscles. “Cripes. How long have you been sitting here?”
“Since we concluded last night,” Mzatal said. He looked back to the floating sigil, dissipated it with a violent sweep of his arm, then sighed. “I should send for food.”
“Way ahead of you.” I smiled as Jekki and Faruk hopped in with a tray and jug. I gave his shoulders a final squeeze, then helped the two faas get the food onto the table. “Eat.”
Mzatal gestured toward my mug as he poured tunjen for himself. “And what of you? You have only had coffee again,” he noted.
“Coffee is the food of the gods,” I retorted as I snagged some cheese and a couple of grape-things.
“You do much enjoy it,” he said, selecting slices of fruit for his plate. “It is ubiquitous to Earth, yes?”
Taking a sip, I nodded. “It’s a huge industry, and there are shops devoted to little more than the sale of coffee in a variety of forms.” I let out a dreamy sigh. “Heaven.”
“It was relatively new to your world at the time of the cataclysm,” he said, “with only a century or so of any significant distribution. Once the ways opened again, I had not considered it until I noted your obsession, then discovered its use to be widespread.”
“It’s not an obsession,” I said, grinning. “It’s an addiction. Get it right.”
Mzatal smiled. “Obsession with an addiction.” He reached over the cheese for the custard. “My favorite,” he said, raising the bowl slightly to me. “Dak lahn.”
I returned the smile, glad to see him eating. “I know.”
He lifted his eyes to mine, held the gaze for a moment. A sense of true appreciation came through to me before he started on the custard. “Idris has completed his work and now awaits me.” He shook his head. “I am no nearer a solution than I was last night.”
“Still on the final series for the beacon?”
He nodded. “The last three sigils are inharmonious, and I have yet to determine the cause.”
“Can’t you take a day and do something else, give your mind a break?” I asked. “You could come out and harass me by the column. I’m soooo close to finishing the damned first ring of the shikvihr.”
“It is likely you would were we to devote the day to it,” he said with an approving nod, then grimaced. “But time is short. If the beacon is not set within the next two days, we will be delayed another month, and that is unacceptable. All else is ready except this last series.”
I frowned. “Another month? Why?”
“The Earth full moon is four days hence,” he said. “The greatest chance of locating and binding Vsuhl is on that day, and the beacon must be completed and tended for at least two days prior in order to be optimally effective.”
I gave him my best utterly-baffled look. The high level of potency in the demon realm meant that rituals weren’t dependent on the moon cycle, and certainly not on the Earth moon cycle. “That makes no sense,” I said, perplexed. “What am I missing?”