Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

“There is great hope yet,” she said to my relief. “He is under the care of the syraza matriarchs.” She embraced me again, enfolding me in her wings. “You are to stay safe throughout these troubles.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I hugged her back. “I will. And you’d better do the same.”

“Tah agahl lahn,” she said. It meant I love you, with the kind of deep and eternal love that went beyond family or lovers.

“Tah agahl lahn,” I echoed.

She thrummed deep in her chest then reluctantly released me. “Michael awaits you by the arch.”

We said our goodbyes to Seretis with the promise to give Bryce a full update, then my little troop headed out to make the trek to the grove.

As we passed into the sadly neglected garden, a cool breeze spun a vortex around me then died to stillness. A subtle freshness replaced the fish rot stench, and the sound of waves and demons and life faded to silence.

The hair on the back of my neck lifted. Unsettled, I turned to find Pellini, Giovanni, and Turek frozen mid-stride, much as the soldiers had been at the Spires when Kadir arrived. Except not even their eyes moved. A bubble of golden light formed around us while the outside world darkened, as if a dimmer switch was being turned down. A dimensional pocket, like the one Szerain had pulled me into.

I startled as a man appeared beside Pellini, fine featured with rich brown skin touched with bronze. Bare-legged and bare-footed, he wore a simple mid-thigh tunic of saffron-yellow silk. Seretis’s ptarl, Lannist, in human form. And, if my theories were correct, his father as well.

The blackness of the void closed in beyond the bubble, trapping us together. In one stroke, Lannist had eliminated the possibility of interruptions—or my departure. My stomach clenched, but I forced myself to cling to annoyance at the universe for throwing one more shittastic thing my way. And right now it was a lot better to be ticked than terrified.

I affected a bored expression and folded my arms over my chest. “Nice mannequin trick with my boys,” I said, nudging my chin toward Pellini and the others. “But this conference room of yours could use some furniture.” I glared at him. “What do you want?”

“It is you who sought me, Kara Gillian.” His voice flowed over me like soft rain.

I graced Lannist with a tight, cold smile. “There’s a big difference in watching for a snake in the grass and going out searching for one.”

His brow furrowed gently above liquid brown eyes. “Is that what I am to you? A serpent?”

“You’ve kept your distance from me, so I only know you by your masonry-shoving reputation.” A chunk the size of a Volkswagen, according to Bryce. “In my book, that’s edging toward the slithering reptile category, though I might be unfairly maligning snakes.”

“Much has changed since that moment, Kara Gillian.” He stepped to within arm’s length of me.

I resisted the impulse to back away. “Gee, I hadn’t noticed, what with Earth being invaded and all.”

Lovely regret fluttered over his face. “The incursions were never intended.”

“Funny, that sounds like what Rhyzkahl said about the flood of rakkuhr. ‘Not this soon. Not this much.’” I stabbed a finger at him. “Someone’s grand scheme went tits up, but no one gives enough of a shit to fix it. Meanwhile, we’re the ones getting screwed by rakkuhr and Jontari incursions. What the hell did y’all do in your last Demahnk Council meeting? Scratch Earth off the list then move on to who had to bring the donuts next time?”

He shook his head, the simple move fraught with grace. “You do not understand. We—”

“Like hell I don’t!” I bit back my tirade and pygahed. Venting my spleen on him might make me feel better, but it wouldn’t help shake loose information. “You’re right,” I said with a touch more calm, “I don’t understand. Enlighten me.”

“We strove—strive—to preserve both worlds.” He spread his hands, as if in supplication. “We have failed.”

My eyebrows winged up. “Ya think? Y’all blew it on a whole bunch of levels. Like how you keep the lords—your sons, for fuck’s sake—ignorant of their heritage by controlling them with pain so they can’t even think about it.”

Lannist remained silent and aloof for a moment then lowered his head. “Yes. We failed them as well.”

The admission of failing the lords took me aback, but I seized the opening. “Why? Why is it so important for the lords to have no clue of their parentage and origin? And what else have y’all done to fuck them over?” I scowled as he remained silent. “You want me to understand, but I’m stuck in the middle of someone else’s game without a playbook. I’m forced to operate on what info I’ve pieced together through observation and the bits I’ve pried from others.”

His lips parted as if he was about to speak, then he shuddered. For an instant it looked as if he went a little see-through around the edges, but the illusion was gone before I could be certain. Surely my mention of the lords’ parentage wasn’t taboo enough to affect him so?

“Lannist? You okay?” Uneasy, I strained my physical and arcane senses for sign of any other possible influence, but there was only nothingness beyond our bubble of light.

His gaze dropped to where the grove leaf lay cool against my sternum. I covered it with my hand. “Why did you want to talk to me?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

He jerked rigid as if touched by a live wire, and his eyes went wide. “Out of . . . time.”

“What’s happening?” I demanded. “Time for what?”