Страница 103 из 121
In answer, Kadir lowered his head and began to trace. Ryan gave a guttural cry, his features shifting weirdly as he called potency between his hands into a crude ball. I returned my full focus to Mzatal and called to him with everything I had. Zharkat. Zharkat. You will slay me. Cease, my love. I beg you. You will slay me.
A flicker, a whisper of response, the barest brush of awareness of me. He still drew power, still raged, yet it was a needed chink in the otherwise impenetrable wall.
Rain lashed down, plastering the dress against my body and blinding me. I reached again, called to him, shut out all but Mzatal. Distantly, I felt Kadir and Szerain prepare, then bit back my scream as they struck—Szerain with a crude hammer blow of potency in Mzatal’s back, and Kadir with a superbly elegant burst that covered Mzatal’s skin in a network of azure neon like freakish varicose veins.
Please. You must stop. You will kill us all.
The potency burned over Mzatal. It got his attention, but it was my presence and touch that riveted him. He breathed heavily through bared and clenched teeth, held the strike.
“Zharkat,” I said, weeping. “Boss. Please stop.”
His eyes found mine. He was lost—in the grief and anger and power, and in the need to vent all of it. His body trembled with the effort of keeping it in check.
I threw my arms around him as if I could help him hold the strike back. My focus widened, and now I took in everything happening around us.
Bryce knelt by Paul, performing CPR with desperate efficiency, exposed bone beneath his hands. “C’mon, kid, God damn it, come on!” Ryan had collapsed to his back, features completely his. Kadir watched with cautious intensity as he prepared another strike. Idris lay curled on his side, eyes wide and staring, jaw slack.
Mzatal felt it all through me—the destruction, the pain, the fear, the death—and his control of the fury wavered.
“Mzatal. Send Khatur away,” I ordered, using every means of communication I had with him. “Send the blade away. NOW!”
His eyes locked on mine, as hard as silver-grey flint—unyielding, uncompromising, but still holding the catastrophic potency at bay.
Boss. Zharkat. Beloved, I called to him. Feel me. Remember yourself. Be right here. Right now. With me.
Breath hissing through his teeth, Mzatal shifted his grip on the blade. For a horrific second I thought he intended to drive it through me, but then he let out a harsh growling cry and slashed the blade down across his forearm to open a deep gash. Luminescent blood sizzled and vaporized on the blade, and I staggered, nausea rising, as I felt Khatur take the offering. In the next heartbeat, the blade disappeared from Mzatal’s hand, banished.
Mzatal shook with the intensity of the gathered potency, the cumulation of black anger I couldn’t fathom. He still maintained enough control to keep it leashed, but not for much longer. Even now it ripped at him. I felt the pressure build—a sealed volcano, poised to explode, and when it did Mzatal would stand alone in the middle of a blasted crater.
“Down. Down!” I urged him. “Ground it into the earth and to the lake.”
He let out a tortured cry, dropped to his knees, and flattened his palms on the ground. I went with him, kept my arms around him, called to him.
The lake, I told him. Send it to the lake. The world trembled. A narrow fissure split the ground between us and the water, a crack of earthen lightning. An instant later the lake erupted into a boiling cauldron.
Holding Mzatal, I helped him cha
Breathing hard, Mzatal knelt with hands still flat on the ground, regret and frustration echoing through him in discordant rhythm along with a headache that sliced at him, much like the one he’d had at my house.
I slowly released him, stood unsteadily, and looked around. Kadir, intently watchful, gave a slight nod then limped to the burned and moaning forms of Amkir and Jesral, seized each by the collar and dragged them toward the node. Flames licked from the roof of the plantation house, tempered, but not quenched by the heavy rain. Half of the Ops building lay in ruins, and potency residue still writhed over it like fine arcs of electricity. People moved, shouted, and screamed in the flickering light, but all seemed too caught up in their own nightmare to bother with the intruders who’d just nuked the place. No doubt someone had called nine-one-one by now but, as isolated as the plantation was, it would be a good fifteen minutes before significant response arrived.
“Mzatal,” I said, sickened. “Paul . . . Paul needs you.”
He pushed up to kneel without meeting my eyes. As he stood, I felt him consciously withdraw from me and close me off as he went to crouch by Paul. For a moment I could only stare as our co
I dimly heard Bryce shouting. “You fix him, goddammit! You did this to him! You goddamn bring him back!”
Mzatal ignored him, ignored me, as he straightened and moved to Idris. Bryce cursed and resumed CPR on Paul. In othersight I saw Mzatal unwind the arcane hooks that would have killed Idris in a few more minutes. That was good. A wave of vertigo came and went. I liked Idris. Clever and talented, that one.
I frowned. Did I know Idris that well? The rain eased from a torrent to a gentle fall, and I turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. Kadir shoved Amkir and Jesral through the node portal, then turned and surveyed the area with narrowed eyes as he approached Rhyzkahl’s motionless form. Mzatal carried the unconscious Idris back to set him down near Paul, then knelt and placed his hands on the horribly burned young man and went still. Bryce shifted back, jaw set and eyes on Mzatal, but he didn’t say anything as the lord worked on Paul.
I lifted my hand to the silent receiver in my ear, unable to escape the feeling that someone was supposed to be telling me something. Reminding me of something. Vertigo flickered over me once more. My hand dropped, and I fought to hold onto a slick plain of never-ending glass, tilting me toward oblivion—
“Kara.”
I spun toward the voice, toward Ryan as he climbed to his feet. Dream fragments merged with reality, dispersed to reveal firm ground beneath me. Kara. “Here,” I gasped. “I’m here. Kara.” The grove. I still felt the grove through the open node. That’s what I needed to focus on right now. I was Kara, and Kara could do cool shit with the grove.
“Kara,” Ryan repeated as he moved to me. “Kara.”
I took a deep breath, tasted the boiled lake in the air. “Ryan, I killed Pyrenth,” I said, voice cracking. “And Jesral almost had me, and Mzatal, he . . .” I trailed off, unable to voice it.
“Kara,” he murmured as he gathered me close. “Be right here, right now. You have to focus. Too much is going on.”
I clung to him, fought my way back up and dug in. “Right. Right. I’m here.”
“Kara.” That was Mzatal, voice tight and mega-controlled. “Kara,” he said again, yet the co
Idris let out a low groan from where he lay beside Paul. Paul didn’t groan. I wasn’t even sure Paul was breathing beneath Mzatal’s hands. At the edge of my vision I saw Kadir carry Rhyzkahl onto the gazebo platform, push him through the node then stride away in the direction of the burning mansion. My hatred of Rhyzkahl remained unchanged, but for now I banked the fires of my rage. He suffered terribly with the loss of his ptarl, and it was enough for me in this moment.