Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

Kara, Elinor is my daughter.

“Are you shitting me?!” I fumbled the page over to see if there was more but found only blank space. The Elinor sketch was the last one.

I’m going to punch him, I mused in quiet shock. I’ll rescue everyone from their stronghold and then, kapow, I’ll deck Szerain right there on the nexus. The jerk had time enough in the dimensional pocket to mess with me about an Amkir ancestry, but he couldn’t tell me this?

Elinor smiled up at me. My outrage drained away. In his place, I’d have done the same—tossed a note and ran, rather than open a fifty-five gallon drum of worms. He’d killed her. Bladed her. Had he known of their relationship at the time? Either way, it was a subject fraught with too many emotions to name.

With the utmost care, I tore out that page and the one with the answers to my question, set the notebook on the nightstand and slipped the two pages into the drawer.

As I reached to turn off the lamp, I saw the voicemail light blinking on my phone. Idris had called at 2:13 a.m., right when I was getting started on the nexus.

“Hey, Kara. Guess y

ou’re either asleep or busy. I’m really sorry I lost it the other day. I was out of line.” He sighed. “And what’s worse is that I don’t know if I’m going to make it to Louisiana in time to help you.” His voice held true regret and worry. “Things are quiet in the seafloor rift, but a couple of massive Class 2C demons came through right before the lull. We kept them contained for the better part of the day, but about fifteen minutes ago they broke through my warding, and now they’re swimming toward the Sea of Japan, I think to take out a container ship that’s carrying critical equipment. My chopper’s leaving in just a few minutes. Best estimate is that it’ll take us close to four hours to intercept the demons.”

Well, that sucked. Eight hours there and back, and demon sea battles were notorious for lasting the better part of a day. Plus, it was a minimum of twelve hours travel time from Korea to Louisiana—and that was if he could jump right onto a fast military transport heading straight here.

“On a related note, I called in a few favors, and I’m sending you pics of some old documents that were found near Puryong. I didn’t have much time to look over them, and they’re not in English, but I think they might pertain to your current project. The encryption keys are the tower with the cracks and the scumbag whose balls you crushed near there.”

I grinned. Trust Idris to remember that.

“Be careful, Kara. You’re special to me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You’re special to me, too,” I murmured.

After I dried my eyes, I pulled up his email. The south tower of Szerain’s palace held a room with eleven strange cracks. And it was Amkir whose nuts I’d crushed during the battle to get the essence blade, Vsuhl.

“Nice going, Idris,” I breathed as I scanned the pictures. The documents were old, faded, and in a language I couldn’t read, but several of the drawings were almost certainly binding sigils. Every bit of ammo helped.

I forwarded the pics to Jill for possible translation then killed the light, closed my eyes, and dropped right off to sleep.

Chapter 34

My gaze skimmed the tops of dark green waves as I swiveled the periscope. Pellini came into view, wearing a Speedo and surfing on the back of a bright purple whale. The sigil on his chest glowed neon green. I scowled. Why the hell wasn’t he wearing a life jacket?

Weeeeeeeeeeee clatterclatterclatter chunkchunkchunk wrrrrrrrrrrr

I frowned at my submarine crew. “What was that?”

The crewmembers waved tentacles and clattered wings in reply. My first mate blew out a stream of bubbles, and I hurried to pop them to hear her words. “He lost the petunias, Admiral Commander. Now the prisoners know too much.”

“What prisoners?”

“The ones in the prison, Admiral.”

CLUNK whooosh clatter.

“Fuck!”

The dream popped and vanished like one of the first mate’s speech bubbles. Prying my eyes open, I struggled to place the weird sounds that had woken me.

“No, you need to repressurize the air canister to—don’t tangle that cable! C’mon, we don’t have all day to be fiddle-fucking around with this. Kellum, hold that steady while Greitz resets the motor.”

That was Bryce, sounding mega-stressed. The net, I realized. The noise was him test-firing it. Because today was Summoning Day. Whether I was ready or not.

“Like Christmas, but with more bloodshed,” I muttered.

Be lordy. Right.