“It was not her choice,” Azriel answered. “And if you know a means of removing it without killing her, tell us.”
“There is no removal except death.” My father paused, and the energy of him pulsated. “The Raziq come. I will find another way to contact you.”
“Leave a damn note—” I croaked.
“No,” he said.
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I need to read your mind and understand what the players around you do.”
And despite the net of fire enveloping his form, the force that was my father disappeared. I couldn’t say I was entirely sorry to see him go. I might not have gotten any answers, but at least the fire in my heart began to ebb away. It left me trembling and weak.
“I’m afraid it is not over yet.” Azriel tucked an arm under my arm and hauled me upright. “The Raziq come, as he said.”
The words had barely left his mouth when another storm swamped me. Panic surged, but I drew Amaya and tried to ignore it. Of course, past experience told me she wouldn’t be enough against the force of them, but at least this time I had Azriel by my side. Surely he wouldn’t fall victim to the mind tricks the Raziq had used last time I was with them.
Fire dripped from the points of the two swords. It hissed and spat as it hit the concrete, and spread out in a sweeping arc, forming an incandescent barrier around us. It was almost as if the swords had drawn a line and were daring the Raziq to cross it.
The storm grew stronger, until I was being physically buffeted by it. I narrowed my gaze against the dust and rubbish flying through the air, my breath caught somewhere in my throat and my stomach churning. Every time I’d faced the Raziq, something had gone wrong.
Every single damn time.
“Not this time,” Azriel said. He took a step forward, half protecting me with his body.
No protect! Amaya’s protest echoed through my brain. Want to kill.
There is time enough for that, I snapped, my gaze on the flicker that was growing beyond the circle of fire. Once upon a time I would not have seen it, but my sight seemed to have altered fractionally since Amaya had become one with me.
Want now, she grumbled, but her voice had at least lowered a couple of octaves.
Soon. I waved her lightly back and forth. Her fire spat through the air, reaching past the wall of fire, landing near the edge of the Raziq’s shimmery presence. But there was more than one here. There had to be. The wash of energy was too fierce.
And Azriel’s readiness to attack was so strong that the force of it vibrated through every part of me, vying for prominence with the energy crawling across my skin.
“I told you my father would sense your approach,” I croaked, before either the Raziq could say anything or Azriel could react. “He’s far more cunning than you give him credit for.”
Red flames flickered down Valdis’s sides. I wondered if it was an indicator of the sword’s annoyance or her master’s.
“It is also possible that you warned him.”
The voice was cool, without inflection or emotion, but it nevertheless sent a chill down my spine. This was one of the Raziq who’d torn me apart to place the tracker in my heart.
“I didn’t warn him, trust me on that. I want as little to do with him as I do with you.”
“That, at least, is true.” The energy in the air sharpened. “Do not release your weapon, Mijai. There are too many of us here, and your numbers are few enough.”
“Our numbers are irrelevant.” Though his voice was as calm and cool as the Raziq’s, his stance had shifted imperceptibly. He was readying for action. “What matters is my ability to counter your presence, and that is not in question.”
The fierceness in the air suddenly sharpened, and a thick sense of impending doom swamped me. If Azriel attacked, he’d die. I was as sure of that as I was of the moon rising tonight. There was no way known that I was about to let that happen.
I stepped forward and wrapped my fingers around his arm. It felt like I was gripping stone.
The force of Valdis’s flames ramped up, but Azriel didn’t react. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling anything. The force of it just about blew my brain circuits.
“Your presence here does nothing to encourage my father to come back,” I said, trying to keep calm against the twin storms buffeting me. “If you want him, you had better leave.”
“He now knows about the tracker. The point of it is useless.”