Why not leave? I suddenly thought. Why not find someplace safe and quiet where I could think and ponder and get my head back to where it needed to be. But I don’t know this world, and I really do try not to be extraordinarily stupid. My gaze went back to the grove, and the familiar calm seeped through me. It could take me someplace safe, I realized as clearly as if the grove had spoken to me—and then I somehow knew it had done just that. I didn’t know how sentient it was, but I knew, as surely as I’d known that I could use the grove to travel, that it would take me away from Rhyzkahl’s realm to someplace safe, with no alien or undue perils, where I could begin to process everything.
Kehlirik and Sehkeril were high and behind me, flying a snarling, hissing aerial dance. If I was going to do this, now was likely my only chance. No…I am doing this. I’m leaving. It was the right move. I knew it. Neither reyza seemed to notice me taking the path toward the grove, but I knew it was only a matter of seconds before they did. I made a quick scan for any other demons nearby and didn’t see any. It wasn’t very far. I could do this.
I bolted and took off at a dead run for the grove as fast as my not-very-athletic body could manage. If I had any luck at all the two reyza would remain occupied with whatever the hell dominance game they were playing.
Clearly, I had no luck whatsoever, for a bellow sounded not even a heartbeat later. I sprinted all out, eyes on the grove as I gasped for breath. I figured, worst case scenario—meaning Kehlirik broke off immediately—I had about a count of ten to make it to the trees. Once I was within that tree tunnel I was home free. I knew that. The grove wouldn’t let anyone pull me away. Five, six, seven; hope rose within me. I was actually going to make it. An exultant smile spread across my face despite the deep burning of my lungs and legs from the sudden exertion. Eight, nine…
The mark on my forearm flared white-hot then went utterly cold as a wave of weakness slammed into me. I stumbled, then sprawled to my belly in an awkward slide. I couldn’t even get my hands up to break my fall, and pain lanced through my cheek and forehead as the coarse grass scraped my face. I struggled to focus, to get up, to run those last few feet, but my body had zero strength in it. I couldn’t even lift my head to look toward the grove, though I could feel it right there.
The world dipped and spun. Kehlirik landed beside me and crouched, crooning softly. Was this a heart attack? I wondered, utterly bewildered. So close. I’d been so close. Tears of frustration slid down my cheeks, but I didn’t have the strength to sob or scream.
Sehkeril landed near, but Kehlirik warned him off with a roar and a snarl. Kehlirik made a soft ticking sound as he gathered me gently into his arms, my body as limp as if I was unconscious. He shifted so that my head rested against his chest instead of lolling back. The mark on my arm burned with a cold pain, as if ice had been held against it for far too long.
The mark. A shiver went through me. Was that it? Maybe I’d tripped a ward or something. Or maybe Rhyzkahl had somehow zapped me to keep me from leaving. This last thought left me as cold as my mark, yet I had a sickening certainty it was true.
“Yaghir tahn, Kara Gillian,” he murmured. “Forgive me.”
“Wh-what happened?” I slurred, barely able to get the words out and not even sure if he could understand me. I felt like complete shit, utterly weak both inside and out.
Kehlirik stood and began to carry me toward the palace. A kehza flew close, curious, but Kehlirik snarled, sending the other demon streaking away. “You were stopped from going to the grove,” he told me.
The cold within me seemed to increase. “Mark,” I mumbled. Kehlirik merely snorted, which was answer enough for me. Nausea curdled my gut, but I wasn’t sure I had even the strength to barf. I wasn’t crying anymore—much. I couldn’t seem to get a handle on the fear that wanted to take up permanent residence in my chest. What the fuck do I do now?
He carried me to my rooms and set me gently on the bed, crooning low in his throat as he pulled a blanket over me. Again he murmured yaghir tahn, but I was too demoralized and upset to respond. He crouched beside the bed, massive head lowered toward me, and bestial face contorted with concern. “Rest, Kara Gillian,” he said, voice soft and deep.
“I don’t want to be here,” I whispered, tears still leaking.
He ticked softly as he settled his wings. “There is nowhere for you to go in the moment, so best to abide in peace, though your heart calls you elsewhere.”
I didn’t want to see his concern, didn’t want to hear his comfort. He’d brought me back here to this place where I didn’t want to be. Yeah, I’d rest. I didn’t really have a choice at the moment, did I? Right now I felt as if I’d had the flu for months, and even blinking required tremendous effort. The only parts of me that actually hurt were the mark and the scrapes on my face, but the rest of me still felt like total shit.
Kehlirik gave a low hiss then rose and exited. I drew a small amount of comfort from the fact that the reyza seemed to be pissed at Rhyzkahl as well.
A few heartbeats later, I felt Rhyzkahl come in. He moved toward the bed. “Dear one,” he said, concern on his face.
I wanted to turn away from him, but I didn’t have the strength, which pissed me off as much as it scared me. Instead I gave him a Fuck you glare with an added touch of You’re a worthless bastard, then closed my eyes.
The bed shifted as he sat on the edge. A heartbeat later I felt his hand on the scrapes on my cheek. “With Kehlirik distracted, I had no other option but to use the mark to stop you from leaving,” he said as a low warmth eased the sting in my face. “There should have been no pain in the mark when I did so. The damage done by Mzatal twisted the connection.”
I stayed silent, hurt and pissed.
“I know Kadir frightened you, and I understand your desire to flee,” he continued. “I could not allow it as it would take you out of my direct protection.” He set his other hand on my forehead, and gradually the horrible-flu sensation faded along with the worst of the crippling weakness.
Kadir. Now the creepshow had a name. Taking a ragged breath, I opened my eyes and looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have even encountered him if you’d allowed me to visit the grove,” I said, still deeply upset and hurt. “I needed that, and you denied it.”
Regret shadowed across his face. “I cannot risk you,” he said. “There are many lords arriving, and I cannot adequately protect you in the grove.” His eyes met mine. “Even were this not the time of the conclave, Mzatal could arrive at any moment, and he would not leave you sitting peacefully in the grove.”
“I can feel before anyone comes through,” I muttered, turning my head away. “I needed it.”
Rhyzkahl laid a hand over the mark, easing the cold burn and giving me a bit more of my strength back. “And if, in your musings, you again decide you need to depart?” he asked. “What then? I would have no means to recover or rescue you then, and you would be fully at the mercy of others.” He paused. “And some know nothing of mercy.” He touched my cheek. “Dear one, I sought only to protect you from dangers of which you were unaware.”
I had zero doubt he referred to Kadir, and I shivered at the memory. His prisoner? I’d take Mzatal’s tender care over Lord Creepshow’s. “Would it be too fucking hard for you to tell me shit like this?” I turned my head back toward him. “If you’re so damn protective, then why did you let that…that freak paw all over me?”
“He was under guest oath then,” Rhyzkahl replied with utter calm. “He is under full oath to me now, and such will not happen again while you’re here. As long as you are here.”
Scowling, I rolled away from him and curled on my side. “I want to go home.”
“Yes, I know you do,” he said. “And I seek the means. I do not yet have them.”