Touch of the Demon

Chapter 32

The next week was a flurry of training with little time to do anything extra but eat and grab what sleep we could. However, I managed to get halfway through the first ring of the shikvihr without blasting the crap out of myself, and only had one teeny little incident where I accidentally set all of my notes and papers on fire. Fortunately I was on the balcony at the time, and the faas were quick with water to douse the small blaze.

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.

Time to lighten the mood in this room. “Wait,” I said with a laugh. “This isn’t at all like the Christmases I’m used to. There’s no smell of burnt turkey.” I grinned. “Tessa can’t cook for shit, and neither can I.”

Some of the uncertainty faded from Mzatal’s expression. He downed half a glass of wine, his other hand resting on the back of the chair. “The faas have prepared a meal that they assure me contains your favorites from here and even some from Earth,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “It is unlikely anything will be burnt unless I specifically asked for it, and then it would be under protest.”

“No, that’s quite all right.” I shook my head emphatically. “Not-burned sounds good to me.” I looked up and gave him a teasing smile. “Mzatal, sit the hell down so we can all relax, okay?”

He gave a slight nod and pulled the chair out. Finally.

With that the mood eased enough for us to engage in some light conversation while we waited for the food. I told the others how Tessa and I always went to Lake o’ Butter pancake house the morning after Christmas, before hitting the stores for the day-after-Christmas sales. Idris told us about how his family had a tradition of getting together on Christmas eve, making cocoa, and taking turns at verses of Christmas carols with on-the-spot, fabricated lyrics. He grinned so much in telling the story—and during his rendition of a snortingly funny verse of Silent Night—that I knew he really considered them family, though they’d adopted him as a teen.

Mzatal finished his wine and set the glass aside to be speedily refilled by Faruk. He reached into his pockets and pulled out two little boxes of delicately carved wood, then placed one before each of us. “I do greatly appreciate your work and your efforts.”

I set my glass down, hesitated, then reached for the box and opened it. Inside was a ring. Uh oh. I slid a glance to Idris. With relief, I saw he had a ring, too, and with that the weirdness factor evaporated.

Intrigued, I lifted the ring out of the box. Silver and gold interwove to form an intricate yet solid band, and a rich blue stone sparkled in the setting. I exhaled and lifted my gaze to Mzatal. “It’s beautiful,” I said, smiling. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, Kara,” he said. “It suits you well.”

Idris sat, stunned to silence, staring at his ring. His was silver and a dark grey metal, with a deep red stone. He looked up at Mzatal and back at the ring. “Holy shit,” he breathed, then looked up again, a smile lighting his face like a kid at, well, Christmas. “My lord, wow. Thank you,” he said and carefully removed it from the box.

I wasn’t one to wear jewelry much, but I knew I’d wear this. I slid it onto the middle finger of my right hand, instantly loving the look and feel of it. It wasn’t girly or prissy at all. It was almost like a man’s ring but for a woman—solid and strong, yet still utterly lovely. “Mzatal,” I said, guilt tugging at me, “I didn’t get you anything.”

He shook his head, face betraying nothing of expectation or disappointment. “You did not know. Enjoy.”

Idris, in his own world, slipped his ring on. “Holy fuck,” he said in an extended exhale. I grinned. Apparently he liked his ring.

Jekki, Faruk, and two other faas brought the first wave of food. They burbled and fussed so much over everything, I had no doubt that they got a kick out of the whole concept.

We settled into some serious eating. Mzatal sat and watched us with a small, steady smile on his face. He drank wine and picked at a plate of fruit, cheeses, and some sort of custard drizzled with what looked like honey, while Idris and I stuffed ourselves and swapped more silly Christmas stories. Gestamar listened and rumbled in reyza-laughter periodically.

I’d had a little wine, and Mzatal was way too quiet. “Y’all ever have parties or celebrations here?” I asked him. “I mean back before the cataclysm, when there were more humans.”

Mzatal twirled the stem of his glass between his fingers. “Yes,” he said with a slow contemplative nod. “In the atrium and the rooms that open from it.”

I tilted my head and peered at him. “And what were those like? Did those seventeenth-century folks know how to get down?” I asked, grinning.

Mzatal lifted an eyebrow and hesitated a second, likely reading the meaning of “get down” from me, then smiled. “They were lively indeed. I tended to observe from the mezzanine,” he said, his smile widening. “Unless, of course, a reveler caught my eye.”

Okay. Now that was interesting. “Oh? Do go on,” I urged.

He took a drink before continuing. “It was usually a smooth process. I would catch the glances thrown my way and note which appealed most in the moment,” he said with a slight shrug. “Later I would descend to the atrium and rescue the chosen one from the throngs.” Amusement lit his face. “They did so love to be rescued.”

“I’m sure they did,” I said, laughing.

Gestamar snorted, and I slid a glance to him. “I bet you saw some interesting shit,” I said.

“Much,” the reyza said, rumbling. “Bedding a qaztahl ranked highly for many, and wine loosened inhibitions and dampened fear.” He bared his teeth and looked at Mzatal. “I know a story they will enjoy. Tell them of Marguerite Deshayes.”

Go, Gestamar. I leaned forward. “Yes, tell us about Marguerite.”

Idris sipped wine and waited, a look on his face as if he couldn’t believe we might get a story from the lord.

Mzatal gave Gestamar a look then stared down into his glass. I kept my eyes on him, knowing how to play the waiting game. He shook his head and lifted his eyes to me. “It is a truly silly tale,” he said, a smile playing on his lips.

“The best kind,” I said, grinning. “Spill it!”

Gestamar rumbled, and Mzatal settled back in his chair. “It was your year, sixteen thirty-two,” Mzatal said. “When I arrived in the atrium, Marguerite, a busty and hitherto unobtrusive woman in her late thirties, approached and sought to press her advantage, obviously quite inebriated.”

Gestamar elaborated. “She threw her arms around his neck and pressed everything against him. Including her advantage.”

Mzatal gave a grudging nod. “I simply put her aside and thought the matter done,” he said. “However, when I ascended to my chambers later, I found her naked at the top of the stairs unable to get past the warding to my bedchamber, which had likely been her goal. And I never bed in my bed.” He shook his head and smiled. “She was spread, and ready, and reaching for me.”

I laughed, though I almost felt sorry for the woman. “And what did you do?”

“She was far too much in the wine,” Mzatal said, “and would not have approached me without. I moved to step past her so Gestamar could carry her down, and…” He paused, drained his glass.

The reyza tapped the table with a claw, rumbling. “If you do not finish it, I will.”

I looked to Gestamar. “I think you’d better. I have a feeling he’s going to leave out all the juicy bits.”

Gestamar snorted. “She grabbed his cock through his breeches and held on like a graa on a tagan fruit.” I gathered from the way the reyza clenched his hand that he meant to convey with great ferocity.

Mzatal cursed softly in demon. “To this day I do not know how she managed it.”

Gestamar continued. “She yelled out all of the things she could do for him, and he was…in shock.”

I didn’t think I’d ever before heard a reyza rumble that heavily with laughter.

Mzatal leveled a frown at Gestamar. “It was unexpected and hurt quite a lot.” He looked back to Idris and me. “As Gestamar said, I was indeed stunned. Though I had no physical shielding active, the assault was still startling,” he said, then hesitated. “I first tried to simply wrest her hand away.”

“That was unwise,” Gestamar commented.

Idris cringed noticeably. I burst out laughing. “Oh no.”

Mzatal cleared his throat. “When I recovered from my error, I breathed a pygah and used potency to prize her fingers off. And still the woman screamed what she could do for me,” he said with a shake of his head and an amused smile. “I stayed well away from her reach.”

I wiped tears away from laughing so hard. “Did she ever leave? Or did you have her carted off?”

“Mzatal set a triple pygah,” Gestamar told us, “which, along with the wine she had consumed, eased her greatly.”

Mzatal nodded. “The faas reclothed her, and Gestamar carried her back to her quarters. And I continued to mine.”

“He continued slowly and carefully to his chambers,” Gestamar clarified.

I tried hard not to snort my wine. “Did she remember any of it the next day?”

“Only vague remnants,” Mzatal said, “though I remembered all.”

“And the parties were never the same after that, I bet.”

“I maintained light physical shielding among the humans,” he said with a smile. “But Marguerite…” He paused and his eyes went distant as though remembering, a slow smile growing. “All of the delicious acts she screamed out? She could perform every one and more.” His eyes flashed with good humor. “This I determined in the next week when I encountered her by the little waterfall.”

That got even more laughter. “And I bet she was much more fun when she wasn’t blitzed,” I said.

Mzatal raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. I prefer coherent, cognizant, and inclined,” he said. “While inebriated, she was most inclined, but neither coherent nor cognizant.”

I leaned back and sipped my wine. It was clear that the lord was far from chaste, but I had to appreciate his desire for a willing partner in full control of her faculties. Hell, better than a lot of guys back home who’d have taken advantage of a situation like that in a heartbeat.

Mzatal opened his mouth to speak again, then turned and looked at Faruk. He stood abruptly, strode to the faas and crouched while Gestamar hissed softly.

I set my glass down. “What’s going on?”

Mzatal laid his hand on Faruk’s back and spoke softly in demon. The faas seemed to huddle in on itself, tip of its tail trembling like a rattlesnake’s.

Idris glanced over at me. “Faruk is being summoned to Earth.” His brow furrowed. “It doesn’t happen often for her.”

“Her?” I blurted, then grimaced at how stupid that sounded. But none of the faas had any sort of visual or behavioral features to indicate gender. I usually winged it and guessed, but I had a feeling Idris actually knew.

His eyes crinkled. “Yes, and Jekki is male. They’re a mated pair.” His gaze went back to Faruk, and I stood, deeply curious about what a summoning looked like from this side.

Faruk detached her pouch of kek tokens from her belt and tossed it to Gestamar, then laid her hand on Mzatal’s knee. Wind swirled around them, and the whine of a portal overrode the incessant rush of the waterfall. Mzatal stood and stepped backward to the table, eyes on Faruk.

The portal opened with a rush of wind and the stench of sulphur, and a heartbeat later, tendrils of luminescent mist-like potency wreathed the faas, and she disappeared. Jekki chittered, his tail twisting and writhing in what I’d come to recognize as faas agitation.

I remembered to breathe again as the arcane wind died away to nothing. “Do you know who summoned her?”

Mzatal nodded slowly, eyes narrowed. “Rasha Hassan Jalal al-Khouri. I had thought her dead, she has been so long without summoning.”

The name didn’t ring any bells, and I filed it away. I glanced at Gestamar as he moved to clear the residuals from the summoning. A pang of selfish longing tugged, as I wished it had been Gestamar, along with my letters, rather than Faruk. I pushed down my impatience. There were two days yet during this Earth full moon for Gestamar or the other designated letter-carriers, Jekki and Bezik, to be summoned.

Mzatal turned back to Idris and me. “It is late, and we meet early tomorrow,” he said, edge in his voice and the set of his face indicating that the party was over for him. Jekki pressed close to his thigh, and the lord laid a hand on the faas’s head.

I got it. One of his demons was out, and he was back into serious lord mode. I acknowledged with a nod, hesitated, then moved to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re okay, Boss,” I said smiling up at him. “Thanks for the Christmas.”

He stood unmoving for a heartbeat, then lifted his hands to the sides of my head, leaned in and kissed my forehead. He tucked his hands behind his back again, inclined his head a smidge. “Rest well, Kara Gillian.”

“You too, Mzatal,” I said, then gave Idris a hug before heading out. I looked down at the ring on my right hand and smiled. All in all, it had actually been a pretty decent Christmas.