We passed several doorless arches leading to glass-walled rooms, including a library, a sitting area, a large barren room, and a solarium. I glanced at the double doors of Mzatal’s chambers—which I recognized only because of the Escher-like carving—odd because of the rarity of doors in the palace. Both Szerain and Rhyzkahl had plenty of doors, so Mzatal’s lack didn’t seem to be characteristic of the demon realm. At the very end of the corridor, we stopped before the only other door. Carvings of interwoven sigils covered it, and their intricacy and grace reminded me of Szerain’s work.
“He is engaged,” Helori told me, “but he is aware you are here.” He pushed the door open enough for me to pass. “Go. Await him.” Smiling, he bent and touched his forehead to mine.
I threw my arms around him in a hug. “Thank you.”
With a low chuckle, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me close. Grinning, I blinked back the silly tears that sprang up, then quickly released him and entered the room before I could totally start bawling.
Windowless and close, the room crackled with potency. Mzatal stood on the other side of a stone pedestal topped with a basin, much like the one I saw in Szerain’s shrine. Intense focus etched his face while sigils and strands of potency danced from his fingers above the surface of the water. Fascinated, I watched the interplay of light and color. I had zero clue what he was doing, but it was still amazing and beautiful.
I closed the door quietly behind me and waited for him to finish. I didn’t have any sense he was making me wait on purpose, which made it much easier for me to be patient. It was like watching the coolest laser show ever, except without lasers. Instead, glowing streamers were caught and woven back into place, and wobbly things were set to spin smoothly. Mzatal moved around the table in a graceful flow, wasting no motion and doing things almost before I realized there was anything to engage.
Finally he lowered his hands and sent the remaining “stuff” down into the basin, then set a single orb about a foot in diameter spinning above it. He lowered his head, assessing its movement and moving fingers slightly until it spun smoothly.
Stepping back, he gave a little nod of completion, not unlike the one he’d given after that weird as hell kiss. What the hell had that kiss been all about, anyway?
He watched the orb for another few heartbeats, then turned to face me, eyes full of a deep resonant potency.
“Kara,” he said, speaking my name like an extension of that power.
“Mzatal,” I replied with a slight nod.
He moved toward me, and for the barest instant I had the bizarre impression that he was going to hug me, but then he clasped his hands behind his back in standard Mzatal-pose. “You seem more yourself.”
“I’m…better.” I still didn’t feel totally like me, but at least I knew who mewas. “So what now?”
Mzatal opened the door without touching it. Convenient trick, I figured, since he had his hands behind his back so much. “Come. The plexus is stable.” He glanced back at the spinning orb, then headed out. “We can talk of what is to come next in more comfort.”
I cast one last glance at the orb thingy, then followed him.
Chapter 24
We went back down the corridor and entered the archway of the solarium. The high ceiling as well as the wall opposite the archway were constructed of glass. It reminded me of Rhyzkahl’s arboretum without the trees. The glass doors stood open to the balcony and the expanse of sea beyond, and fresh air touched with salt flowed over me. The side walls alternated wide vertical bands of the natural dark stone and softly gleaming gold, embossed with scenes of demons and humans. Near the balcony waited two low, comfortable-looking chairs with a table between. It felt as though they’d been arranged for this moment.
Mzatal gestured to one of the chairs. I sat, nerves beginning to set in as he took the other. Shit was about to get real.
“How was your journey?”
“It was very interesting,” I said, smile twitching briefly. Somehow I doubted that Mzatal would have approved of the more dangerous parts. “And I don’t feel like I’m about to break into a million pieces anymore.”
Mzatal smiled—the most genuine smile I’d ever seen on him. “I can feel it. You will be able to move forward now, no longer mired.”
I sighed. “Helori explained why it isn’t in my best interests to return to Earth right now, and how I need to be better prepared, better able to protect myself and others, before I can go home.” I still hated it, but I understood it. “He also says that you can be trusted to abide by your word.”
He gave a quick nod. “I do not break my agreements with summoners.”
I spread my hands on the cool wood of the table. “Then why don’t you start with the terms you desire, and then we can go from there.”
“A simple framework,” Mzatal began. “A five year agreement to provide summoning services from this realm and from Earth, as required and specified in the agreement. One full year of training here before assessing the possibility of return to Earth. You will take no action that is against my best interests—which, by the end of a year, you will know how to discern. I will provide full training—all that you are able to absorb.”
My eyebrows lifted. “Five years?” I asked, incredulous. “No way. Nothing more than three years, and we will decide togetherthe possibility of my return to Earth after six months. And in the event of an impasse, Helori will make the final decision.”
A frown touched his mouth at my counter-offer, but I had a feeling he’d deliberately asked for a larger amount of time, knowing I’d bargain it down. “Consideration at six months or beyond onlyon the condition that you have passed the shikvihr initiation.”
Shikvihr. I frowned. Where had I heard that before?
From Rayst, I suddenly remembered. “How far along is she in the shikvihr?”he’d asked Rhyzkahl. That ritual foundation thing.
“I can’t agree to that when I have no idea how long that typically takes to master.” I leaned back and folded my arms. “For all I know you could be placing this condition on a skill that takes decades to learn.” Helori said I could trust him at his word. He hadn’t said a damn thing about the part that came before actually swearing the oath.
“Calvus Atilia passed the shikvihr initiation in seven months. The longest any has taken to pass it is eighteen months.”
Well, eighteen months sucked. So I’ll study my ass off, I told myself. “Very well. I also want to be able to send and receive messages from home, via whatever agents you might have in place on Earth or by my own means.”
“It can be arranged,” he said, eyes on mine. “Through me.”
I pursed my lips. “Will you respect my privacy?”
Mzatal inclined his head. “As you will be in agreement to act only in my best interests, yes.”
I steeled myself for the next point I wanted to raise. Rhyzkahl had sworn not to harm me—on Earth, which hadn’t done me a fat lot of good. “I—” My voice cracked. I took a deep breath and tried again. “I want to discuss what would happen in the event that I were to fall into the hands of another lord.” I met his eyes. “I don’t want to become anyone’s thrall.”
He leaned forward. “First, I will do all within my ability to keep that circumstance from arising,” he said. “There are possibilities of implants for recall and such, though there is always the chance of those being detected.” He paused. “There are other, more drastic options.”
I spoke as quietly and calmly as possible, though my voice still had a slight quaver. “I expect you to do all in your ability to keep such a situation from arising and to extricate me should precautions and safeguards fail. I expect you to do me no harm at any time during our agreement, regardless of location, realm, dimension, or other locale, with the sole exception of a scenario where, in your best and most honorable discretion, you believe that I would prefer death, or a scenario in which the lives or fates of innocents would be spared by harming or killing me.”