Touch of the Demon

That was just too damn fu

“Yeah. Four close ones actually—Dakdak, Krum, Tata, and Wuki—and a bunch more that just hang out at his place. They’re not pets though.”

I snorted water out my nose, laughing so hard it hurt. “Tata? And…Wuki?” I managed to gasp out. Then the room abruptly tilted. I dropped my head back and clutched at the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Idris asked, aflutter again.

“I think—” I shook my head, instantly regretting it. “The green shit works,” I slurred, right before the world fell away.

Chapter 9

Morning sun slanted onto the bed through the broad windows, waking me. I groaned and rolled onto my side, then blinked, suddenly fully awake.

That didn’t hurt.

Sitting up, I tugged off the blanket to look at my leg—my unsplinted and undamaged leg. Relief flooded me, near dizzying in its intensity. Mzatal must have indeed followed the ilius into the room and completed the healing. Whether he had a change of heart or had simply been fucking with me, at this point I didn’t care. The important thing for now was that my leg was still there and, apparently, as good as new.

A quick assessment of the rest of me revealed that not only was everything else healed up, but I was also clean and wearing different clothing.

“Now that’s a nice health care plan,” I murmured, sliding a hand over the spot on my torso that had so recently housed a tree branch. Not even a scar remained to show it had ever happened.

I startled as Jekki and Faruk burst into the room without knocking, carrying a mug and a plate that they placed on the side table. “Eat! Drink! Leave soon!” they burbled in unison, and then were gone in a swirl of blue fur and tails.

My smile faded and my gut clenched at the thought of going to Mzatal’s realm, but I went ahead and drank the chak and ate the—. Okay, I had no idea what it was and thought it might be better that way. It looked like a plate of cat turds drizzled with mustard, but had a texture like biting into a grape and a meaty taste with a zing of sweet spice. Totally weird but yummy. As soon as I was finished, Gestamar stepped into the room, almost as if he’d been waiting.

“It is time,” he said, deep voice resonating. If I hadn’t known better, I might have thought he was trying to sound ominous. I obediently followed him down to the entry corridor where Mzatal waited. The lord gave me an up and down assessing look but said nothing. I didn’t know if he was checking out his healing skills or what. The lord confounded me, ru

Gestamar kept a hand on my upper arm as we headed through the south doors and outside. What’d they think I was going to do? Make a break for it? We stopped while Mzatal closed the doors and laid a shitload of wards, then he led the way down the path with long strides. He wasn’t wearing the Armani; today the outfit was black pants, black boots, and a crimson knee-length coat, intricately embroidered in gold around the cuffs and hem. The suit was a good look for him, but so was this.

We passed the path to the shrine, and I glanced over to see if I could get a glimpse of Turek, but no luck. I felt the grove before we reached the tree tu

Power hummed around us as we stepped farther in. Even though I’d already had the experience of a lifetime in the grove, I looked around in rapt fascination as if I’d been out for a walk and suddenly smelled something amazing and had to stop and find the source. I inhaled as the grove enveloped me; a questing presence that the collar had no power to block.

Anxiety and fear slipped away as I welcomed the touch of the grove and felt the power of it hum through the white trunks around us. I exhaled in wonder, only distantly aware of Mzatal’s focus on me. Idris moved to the lord’s side and the two exchanged low words, but I was far too entranced by the feel of the grove to pay much attention.

The grove presence retreated as we clustered near the center. Mzatal crouched and placed his hands on a low smooth knob of wood that reminded me of a cypress knee. He cha

He stood and gestured everyone in close. I caught a glimpse of movement in the trees ahead. I felt a dropping sensation, and then between one blink of an eye and the next, we were in a different grove.

It looked a lot like the one we left, ringed with white trunks, but it was more elongated, had a “flavor” to it that felt different, and the hum resonated lower.

Mzatal started toward the tree tu

I watched uncertainly as she approached, her mouth tentacles waving in an oddly u

The mehnta spoke, voice oddly fractured as it came from a dozen sources at once. I struggled to understand, but soon realized she was speaking in the demon tongue.

I looked up to Gestamar. “What is she saying?” I asked, feeling a strange and desperate need to know.

He gave a low rumble before answering. “She has bypassed all protocols and asked for your name.”

I smiled in gratitude, then turned my attention back to her. “I am Kara Gillian.”

The mehnta kept her touch on my arm and spoke again. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Mzatal and Idris had stopped and were now watching our odd exchange.

“She says her name is Lazul,” Gestamar said without needing to be asked. The mehnta made an odd whistling sound, then touched my face lightly with her mouth tentacles—soft and warm, like a myriad of little kisses. In any other situation I’d have probably freaked out, but instead, a thrill of delight and acceptance ran through me.

The tentacles lingered for another few seconds, then the mehnta retreated and slipped noiselessly back into the trees.

I exhaled and watched her go, then turned with Gestamar to follow the others up the tree tu

And then…wow. We stood upon a clifftop, sea below on the left, dark stony mountains and lush green foliage rising to the right. A warm breeze teased my hair, carrying the pleasant scent of sea and wet earth. The sun hung high in the sky. Midday here. It had been morning at Szerain’s.