“Elinor is on Earth,” he echoed. “Alive and whole, else you would have no need to retrieve her.” His words were measured and even, a little too controlled. He’d been fond of her—as much as he was capable. Nearly a year ago, I’d learned through one of Elinor’s dreams that Rhyzkahl had popped her cherry, and it was only yesterday that I experienced a dream-glimpse of his melancholy when he lost her.
“I don’t know what condition she’s in,” I said.
The leap of a muscle in his jaw was the only sign that my words affected him. “You are correct in your assumption that a qaztahl-bound reyza would be unable to accomplish the task. Their talents lie elsewhere.”
“Yeah, I’ve realized that Gestamar and Kehlirik are essentially giant winged nerds.”
A whisper of amusement flitted across his face before vanishing beneath a mask of scorn. “You have never performed a dangerous summoning,” he stated, “nor been in true jeopardy from any demon summoned. Even had one made an earnest effort to break your bindings—which they never have—you would have survived the experience.” He lowered his head, eyes hard on mine. “I am the only one who chose to break your pathetic bindings, and I did so with ease—for my amusement. A Jontari would do the same. But instead of granting you the carnal pleasure you craved, he would slaughter you and all those in this compound”—he sneered—“whom you hold so dear.”
“I know it’s possible to summon one and survive,” I said. “I’ve learned a few things since that night in my basement.”
“I am certain Mzatal has trained you well to service a cock.”
No way was I going to rise to his bait. “I know far more about the arcane and summoning now,” I said, holding onto calm. “Let’s try this again. How do I summon an imperator?”
“Your chekkunden lover refused to offer aid?”
“This has nothing to do with Mzatal. I’m asking you. I’m open to any advice you’re willing to give.” But even as the words left my mouth, I shook my head. I was wasting my breath. “Who am I kidding? You won’t help me. This is the part where you demand release, and then I tell you I can’t. All right, go ahead. Let’s get that over with.”
“I will not demand release,” he growled. “Nor will I aid you in this mad undertaking. You have not the means to control an imperator.”
I regarded him for a thoughtful moment. “What if I had a gimkrah?”
He visibly startled. “How do you know of such?”
My pulse quickened. Score! “I read a lot. Well? How does a gimkrah help, and where can I get one?”
It was at least a dozen heartbeats before he finally spoke. “They were artifacts created to subdue Jontari. But the two held by Earth summoners are long lost.” He waved a hand. “Kara Gillian, this is folly. You must seek another way to retrieve Elinor.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” I snapped. “Let me know if you decide you really do want to help her.” I turned away to stalk back to the house, but he spoke before I took two steps.
“Mzatal possessed the master gimkrah.”
I spun on my heel. “Does he still have it?”
Rhyzkahl’s mouth twisted. “He is unlikely to have rid himself of it. Such an artifact will be well hidden and protected.” He met my eyes. “Even with a gimkrah, you have not the strength, skill, or experience to craft bindings strong enough to contain an imperator.”
Annoyance prickled. “Gee, maybe because there’s a conspiracy to hide information about the Jontari from us puny humans?”
“Be that as it may, you are not equipped,” he said, tone imperious. “You will die in the attempt. Seek a different means.”
Though I knew all too well that Rhyzkahl was an excellent liar, I felt certain he was telling it to me straight—not for my sake, but for Elinor’s.
Fine. I didn’t have the know-how to create the right bindings. But I did have the sudden spark of a potentially clever idea.
“What if we cheat?” I spread my hands. “We use graphene-enhanced nets on the demons that come through the rifts. So far, they can’t break them. Add an electric charge from a power supply, and we can incapacitate the demons as well.”
Rhyzkahl stared at me with a You can do that? expression. “Physical restraint has never been successfully employed in summonings.”
“That’s because the physical means were crap back in the good ol’ days. We have science on our side now.” I hid my amusement as Rhyzkahl adjusted to this new paradigm.
“If you are able to locate the master gimkrah,” he said reluctantly, “and if this netting works as you claim, there is a remote possibility you might survive the summoning of a Jontari imperator.”
“I’m not afraid of the odds,” I lied. “What does the gimkrah look like?”
“An orb of crystal”—he held his hands apart as if gripping a cantaloupe—“with a heart of blood, bound with makkas.”
Makkas. The pinkish demon realm metal that dampened the arcane. Made sense that it would be used in a tool meant to control an arcane being. “Thank you.” I paused. “I’ll get her back, one way or another.”