I fumbled the journal open and flipped to the last page with writing, then peered at it in confusion. I’d skimmed all of her entries, but I had no memory of this one.
“It was her final entry,” Szerain said, “and deeply personal. I protected it in memoriam to her.” He paused. “But she needs to hear it now. Read.”
I cleared my throat self-consciously. “I am not loath to admit that my skills with the arcane astound no one,” I began. “I am competent enough, but my passion lies with my illustrations of the demon realm flora and fauna. Lord Szerain knows this, and therefore I will trust he has reasons and knowledge beyond my ken that justify his decision to partner with me for the ritual. I dare not be uncertain. My will must be resolute.
“Giovanni worries, and I love him all the more for it. Yet I am doing this for him, for us. I adore this world, but I dare not quicken here and risk the babe. Confined to Earth, Giovanni would pine without the Lord’s company and friendship, and my art would surely suffer. If the ritual succeeds in raising the Earthgate then mayhap my love and I can build a home on Earth and begin a family. The gate will give us both worlds, allowing free return here during those times when I am not with child.”
Though I wanted to stop and process the whole “risking the babe” thing, I kept going and read the last bit. “I am prepared. I will succeed with the ritual. I will grow old with Giovanni and sit by the fire with him while our grandchildren play around us.” I barely got the last few words out as my throat clogged with emotion. I’d thought of her as weak, but here was a woman who not only had the strength to tell Rhyzkahl that she couldn’t be his zharkat, but was ready and willing to literally move heaven and earth to start a family with the man she loved.
Giovanni wept openly, murmuring softly in Italian as he cradled Elinor close. I reverently closed the journal and placed it on the grass between us, then looked up at Szerain. To my surprise, a dozen or more rakkuhr lace-spheres now spun around us, all rotating in different directions and orientations, like a gyroscope gone mad. Red and black sparked and flashed throughout it all, and the dizzying effect made me slightly nauseous.
Szerain ceased pulling from the valve and released the rakkuhr around him, letting it drift to the ground. “And now the answers to many questions,” he murmured and called Vsuhl to his hand.
My gaze fixed on the knife. Parasite and power source in one. The living prison for the entity Vsuhl.
The spheres spun faster and faster until we floated in a disorienting blur of red. I clutched at the ground for balance—
I was in a summoning chamber, one I knew all too well from seeing it through Elinor’s eyes. Except this time Elinor was standing a few feet away.
Holy shit. This is Szerain’s perspective. It wasn’t a dream-vision—I didn’t become Szerain—but it was darn close.
Giovanni let out a choked cry of surprise, and I realized we were both seeing and experiencing the event, like two people watching the same show on different TVs. No, three. I had the distinct sensation of Elinor’s essence peering over my shoulder.
In the vision, Elinor, clad in a brilliant green robe, wove sigils and lay ritual anchors with no hesitation or uncertainty. She might have been “competent enough” in typical arcane ventures, but it was clear she’d worked hard to prepare for this ritual and knew it inside out and backward.
Szerain moved in concert with her, and I sensed his deep satisfaction with Elinor’s work. The ritual progressed and built, all aspects in perfect harmony. Even though I knew what was coming, I found myself silently cheering her on. I carried this woman’s essence, and now I felt strangely honored that I’d been allowed to do so.
Szerain assessed. All was stable, ready. Elinor invited the grove energy, and it came to her in a rush of power that filled her with palpable vitality. She smiled, radiant. Szerain wove delicate ropes of rakkuhr, enhancing the ritual. Triumphant, he called to the Earthgate, felt it answer—
With no warning or discernible cause, a tremor shattered the protections. Utterly inexplicable. The screaming whine of the ritual signaled that the exquisitely controlled event was about to cascade beyond control like a sea of falling dominos.
Szerain called Vsuhl to his hand, needing more potency to help Elinor release the ritual and disengage.
The power flared. Her mouth opened in a scream.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I felt Szerain’s horrified awareness as the world began to unravel.
In that instant he knew that, to temper the impending cataclysm, he had no option but to slay Elinor. The surest way was to sate Vsuhl with her blood and her essence, destroying her utterly—and losing Elinor and her potential forever.
Or he could slay her to save her. More risk, less certainty, but she would have a chance to survive, and damage repair would be swifter once he recovered her.
The world shook and tilted. Szerain moved to Elinor as she burned from within, seized her from behind with an arm around her waist.
The door to the antechamber hung on its hinges. Giovanni stumbled in, face twisting in horror as he took in the sight of his beloved.
“Call her!” Szerain shouted through the din of clashing energies.
“Elinor!” Giovanni struggled to move against a howling wind.
Szerain plunged Vsuhl into Elinor’s chest, fought the blade’s will and ignored Giovanni’s shout of horror. “Call her!” he yelled and pulled the knife free, he hoped in time. “Do not cease calling!” Her blood sizzled on the blade. Szerain trembled with focus.
“Elinor!” Grief twisted Giovanni’s face, but rage drove him forward.
Szerain bore Elinor to the ground then battled through the gale to reach Giovanni.
“Call her!”
And he sliced Vsuhl across the throat of his dear friend.
I let out a cry of shock. Current-day Giovanni exclaimed what sounded like a seventeenth century Italian version of What The Fuck.
Vision-Giovanni crumpled, and blood spread across the floor. A thread shimmered between the dying man and the essence blade.
“Call her.”
The scene vanished. The rakkuhr spheres slowed their frenzied pace to a more leisurely rotation.
My mouth felt like a desert, but I managed to work enough moisture back into it to speak. “You connected them.”
“I wove a link,” Szerain said wearily. “Giovanni was to maintain Elinor and help me keep her essence from being consumed by the blade. I knew it would take at least a week for them to tranverse the void and recorporeate on Earth, allowing me ample time to do what was needed to stabilize Elinor’s essence and to avert catastrophe when I restored her from the blade.”
I rubbed my gooseflesh-covered arms. “But then the ways between the worlds slammed shut, and both Elinor and Giovanni were stuck.”
Giovanni clutched at his throat, eyes wide. “Y-you killed me to save her?”
Szerain offered a sad smile. “There wasn’t time to ask if you were willing.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Giovanni gave a reluctant nod.
“And it gave you a connection to Kara as well,” Szerain said. “Removing the essence and restoring it to Elinor will be much easier with your aid,” Szerain said. “If you’re willing, that is. I promise not to kill you this time.”
Giovanni let out a strangled laugh. “Yes. Yes, of course I am willing, my friend.”
Szerain smiled. It was clear he’d wanted Giovanni to know the truth for reasons that went far beyond getting his willing help. “Very well.”
Drawing both rakkuhr and normal potency, Szerain wove strands like fiber optic micro-threads between Elinor, Giovanni, and me, until it felt as if every cell in my body was accounted for. The rakkuhr buzzed through me but wasn’t as unpleasant as expected. Turek watched every move as if assessing for flaws.
At long last, Szerain stopped and scrutinized every millimet
er of the intricate connections. “Alrighty, Kara,” he said, apparently satisfied. “This will hurt a bit.”
Oh, crap. “A bit” in lord-speak could range from eyebrow-plucking to mind-numbing agony.
Tensing, I braced myself for the worst. A tingling ripple began at my scalp and flowed down my body to my toes. Another followed it, warm and pleasant. Slowly, I began to relax as ripple after gentle ripple swept through me and sent light pulsing down the strands. Szerain had been messing with me about pain, the asstard. At the very edge of my senses, information streamed—an update for Elinor, much like when I’d used the flows to orient Giovanni to the modern world.
I jerked. “OW! Shit!” It felt like a whole-body bandage had been ripped off. I glared at Szerain.
He returned a mild look. “I did warn you.”
I scratched the side of my nose with my middle finger.
The strands dissipated into a million floating sparks. Szerain crouched and laid his fingers against Elinor’s temple, then cursed softly.
“Is she not restored?” Giovanni asked.
“Yes, but Xharbek has already primed her to be used as a weapon.” He picked up the journal and opened it to the odd code inside the back cover. “Fortunately, easily un-primed, thanks to a bit of advance work. I developed a way for her to understand and control her potential, removing the ability for anyone to exploit her. In modern-speak, it’s a firewall.” He swiped his fingers over the code, and an intricate sigil shimmered into life above it. “And this is the installation script.” Gently, he pulled the sigil onto his fingers then placed it on Elinor’s forehead. The sigil sank into her skin, flashed a brilliant blue and purple over her entire body, then was gone.
Szerain touched her head lightly one more time. “Time to wake up, my dear.” He eased back then straightened.
Four pairs of eyes stared at Elinor.
She breathed out a sigh.
“Elinor?” Giovanni croaked out.
Her eyes opened slowly. “Giovanni,” she whispered then smiled. “You called to me.”
“Always.” His voice cracked. “And now you answer.”
She pulled his head down to hers then gave him a sizzling kiss that had been three-hundred years in the waiting. When they finally came up for air, she climbed unsteadily to her feet then threw her arms around Szerain.
He held her close, head bowed over hers and face awash with emotion.
After a moment, he reluctantly let her go. “I am so very glad to see you,” he said.
“And I, you.” She wiped away tears and then, to everyone’s surprise, smacked him on the arm and announced, “My good Lord Szerain, you should know, being stabbed is quite fucking painful!”
My jaw dropped, and Giovanni made a choking noise. Szerain burst out laughing. “I have no doubt it is,” he said.
Smiling, she gave him another quick hug then turned and looped her arm through Giovanni’s. He recovered from his shock enough to give Szerain a look of profound gratitude, then he and Elinor made their way up the trail.
I hooked my own arm through Szerain’s, and together we followed the happy couple at a weary stroll while Turek brought up the rear.
“Was it just me or did Elinor drop an F-bomb?” I asked after a moment.
Szerain’s smile widened. “Just as her essence influenced you, so did you influence it. Your awareness and mannerisms infused it and transferred to her upon its return.”
“Oh, that poor Giovanni,” I breathed, earning me a chuckle from Szerain and a low hiss of amusement from Turek. My eyes went to the shadowed forms of Giovanni and Elinor. “She doesn’t know you’re her father, does she.”
He was quiet a moment before answering. “I didn’t transfer that information. She has so much to integrate already.”
More likely he wasn’t ready to face it head on. I’d let it slide for now. “About the journal: I had a dream-vision where Mzatal took it away from Elinor—long before she did the ritual. She obviously got it back, but then how did it end up with Mzatal again?”
“Mzatal returned it to her before she left his realm,” Szerain said then smiled. “He’d have to be a complete asshole to keep her diary. After I developed the firewall, I stored it in the journal. None would think that such a frivolous thing could hold anything of worth.” He sobered. “When I knew I was to be exiled, I asked Mzatal to hold the journal for safekeeping. Mzatal understood the journal’s importance and gave me his word to protect it and the knowledge within.”
“’Cause he rocks,” I said with a grin then lowered my voice. “What did Elinor mean about not wanting to get pregnant in the demon realm and risk her baby?”
“There were no issues with pregnancies in the early days, but that gradually changed. By Elinor’s time, the demon realm’s much higher potency had a known teratogenic effect on developing human embryos, and pregnant women would miscarry if they remained past the second month.”
“Even if the father was a lord?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “All I’ve discovered is that, from the very beginning, if one of our partners became pregnant, the demahnk returned her to Earth with no memory of the relationship. Our memories were then adjusted to believe she had departed for a benign reason.”
“But why?” My eyes narrowed. “If it was like that from the beginning, it had nothing to do with the potency imbalance.”
“I have theories, nothing more. Zakaar still can’t speak freely.”
Zack had risked himself too many times already in order to give me much-needed information. “Do you remember Elinor’s mother?” I asked.
“Aphra. She was a summoner and, for a time, a companion and lover.” A smile lit his weary face. “She loved the grove. I’m certain Elinor was conceived beneath its branches.”
I let out a soft breath. “And Elinor ended up with an affinity for the grove that nearly ended the world.”
“A beautiful gift despite the tragedy.”
A pang of grief went through me. My loss of the Elinor essence surely meant the loss of my connection with the grove. I stopped and looked up into Szerain’s face. “Why did you attach her essence to me?”
He took both my hands in his. “It wasn’t my initial intention,” he said. “Your grandmother had agreed to host it.”
Gracie Pazhel. His sworn summoner and Tessa’s mother. “But when Rhyzkahl killed her, he messed up your plan, and you ended up with me?”
“With you too young to give consent,” he said with a note of regret. “Tessa was unavailable, and your mother lacked the summoning phenotype.” His hands tightened briefly on mine. “Then you were born. The perfect vessel.”
“Vessel,” I said, voice acid. “Sounds awfully utilitarian.” My eyes narrowed to slits. “Gracie, Tessa, me. It was all because of our bloodline. Well? Which lord had the honor?”
“Not a lord,” Szerain said. “Not for the bloodline in question. It was Aphra.”
“Elinor’s mom? I’m confused.”
“You’re descended from Elinor’s younger sister.”
I eyed him warily. “Were you her—”
“No! Aphra married after she returned to Earth and had Rebecca—your ancestor—two years later.”
My legs wobbled in relief. Having Szerain in my lineage would have been weeeeeeird. “That means Elinor is my great-times-a-million aunt.” I slipped my arm through his again and resumed walking. “And since Elinor didn’t have any kids, you needed to attach the essence to the closest relative—a descendant of Elinor’s mom.”
“Yes, though there’s more to it. During the pregnancy, Elinor’s presence subtly altered Aphra’s DNA. The grove affinity and attunement to rakkuhr passed on to Aphra’s descendants.”
Yikes. Like carrying a radioactive magic fetus. “Wait.” Hope flared. “Does that mean I still have the grove connection?” My hand flew to my leaf.
>
“You were born with it,” he said, giving my arm a comforting squeeze even as I felt the reassuring touch of Rho.
I had a billion more questions, but we’d reached the back yard, and the fatigue I’d denied for so long permeated every fiber of my being. Szerain was no better off. His eyes were sunken caverns, and he’d begun to lean at a perilous angle. Fortunately, Pellini was waiting at the edge of the woods and steadied me while I gratefully let Turek take over the job of keeping Szerain upright.
“I’m going to plug in and recharge,” Szerain announced with a drunken laugh. He lurched across Rhyzkahl’s orbit to the inner circle of grass and the tree, flopped facedown with one hand on the pale bark, and went still. If not asleep, then darn close to it.
But Rhyzkahl had eyes only for Elinor. In fact, it didn’t look as if he’d moved a millimeter during our time at the valve.
Elinor’s steps slowed as she and Giovanni neared the nexus. I heard her murmur to him that she needed a moment, then she moved to stand before Rhyzkahl.
He gazed down at her, face impassive. “I am pleased to see you restored.”
“So formal,” she murmured with a teasing smile then lifted a hand to his cheek. “Thank you for helping me.”
A barely perceptible shudder went through him. He covered her hand with his own. “And you are safe now, I see,” he said, relief blazing through the cracks in his lordly armor. He could sense the protection of the firewall, I realized.
Rhyzkahl placed a kiss in the palm of her hand before releasing it. “May your life be long and blessed, my lady,” he said quietly.
Elinor leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, stepped back and returned to Giovanni. Rhyzkahl watched them walk to the house then stalked around his orbit to the tree.
“I need to find Elinor clothes and stuff,” I said to Pellini. “Forgot to do that for Janice. And a bed. She needs a bed.” Damn, a bed would be nice right now. What else did Elinor need? Socks? Yeah, socks. Socks were good. And a towel.
“That’s enough, Kara.”
“Huh?” I realized Pellini had been calling my name. I blinked since there were two of him, and they were fuzzy.
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