“It was relatively new to your world at the time of the cataclysm,” he said, “with only a century or so of any significant distribution. Once the ways opened again, I had not considered it until I noted your obsession, then discovered its use to be widespread.”
“It’s not an obsession,” I said, grinning. “It’s an addiction. Get it right.”
Mzatal smiled. “Obsession with an addiction.” He reached over the cheese for the custard. “My favorite,” he said, raising the bowl slightly to me. “Dak lahn.”
I returned the smile, glad to see him eating. “I know.”
He lifted his eyes to mine, held the gaze for a moment. A sense of true appreciation came through to me before he started on the custard. “Idris has completed his work and now awaits me.” He shook his head. “I am no nearer a solution than I was last night.”
“Still on the final series for the beacon?”
He nodded. “The last three sigils are inharmonious, and I have yet to determine the cause.”
“Can’t you take a day and do something else, give your mind a break?” I asked. “You could come out and harass me by the column. I’m soooo close to finishing the damned first ring of the shikvihr.”
“It is likely you would were we to devote the day to it,” he said with an approving nod, then grimaced. “But time is short. If the beacon is not set within the next two days, we will be delayed another month, and that is unacceptable. All else is ready except this last series.”
I frowned. “Another month? Why?”
“The Earth full moon is four days hence,” he said. “The greatest chance of locating and binding Vsuhl is on that day, and the beacon must be completed and tended for at least two days prior in order to be optimally effective.”
I gave him my best utterly-baffled look. The high level of potency in the demon realm meant that rituals weren’t dependent on the moon cycle, and certainly not on the Earth moon cycle. “That makes no sense,” I said, perplexed. “What am I missing?”
He finished the custard and set the bowl aside. “Szerain is unrivaled in arcane innovation,” he said, tone shifting to one of casual conversation, as if he’d decided to discuss the weather. “Should he choose to hide something, it would not only be very cleverly hidden, but also linked to him. It would…resonate with him.” He reached for his mug of tunjen, took a long drink.
“Ohhh,” I said as comprehension dawned. Vsuhl was Sze rain’s blade. “So to track Vsuhl we’re purposefully coinciding with Earth’s highest potency time because Szerain is there.” Because of the stupid oath, Mzatal couldn’t come right out and say Szerain is on Earth, but I could. “Got it.”
“To correlate with the lunar full, I must complete this series today,” he said, a hint of the earlier frustration coloring his tone.
“That’s one hell of a time crunch,” I said with a grimace. “I wish I could help more.”
“You spent half the day yesterday working on it with me. This time it is my aspect that is not aligning,” he said with another deep sigh. But then he gave me a smile. “And today, you have fed me and eased the significant tension in my shoulders. That is much help, Kara.”
“Well I’m going to help even more by grabbing a bath now,” I said. “If Idris is free, I’ll make him run me through the first ring of the shikvihr until I get it. I’m ready to nail that thing.”
“Complete it,” he said with a warm smile, “and I will leave this accursed series to culminate the ring for you.”
I grinned. “Deal, Boss. That’s one way to get you to take a break.”
“Until then, though,” he said with a shake of his head, “I must refocus on this.” He traced a sigil and began adjusting strands on it. I didn’t remember it being in the series we’d worked on yesterday, but it wouldn’t be the first time I had less than a Full Clue.
I stood, picked up my cooling coffee, and took a long sip as I headed off toward the bedchamber. Something about the sigil nagged at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Yet I could feel, with increasing unease, every modification Mzatal made to it. Heart pounding unevenly, I turned and walked back to the table, set my mug down. Each adjustment of the sigil brought it closer and closer to—
I didn’t ask permission, simply reached out with a shaking hand to shift the axis of rotation of the sigil, then detached an outer strand and set the whole thing into a wobbling spin.
The sigil brightened and issued a low, throbbing tone that sent an itch through my bones. The air crackled palpably and audibly as though with static. Wrenching shoulder pain. The bite of the blade. The cold mask of his face.
Mzatal sucked in a sharp breath, stood and backed away so abruptly that he overturned his chair. I cried out as pain like fiery needles flared across my abdomen.
He swept the sigil away with a pass of his hand. The pain vanished but I still clutched at my belly, my breath coming in ragged bursts.
“It burned,” I managed to get out.
Mzatal moved swiftly behind me, dropped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me back against him. His other hand slid beneath mine to press against my abdomen where the scars of Jesral’s glyph still tingled.
I dropped my head back against his shoulder. “I saw that sigil, in Rhyzkahl’s ritual,” I said, my voice shaking. “It was directly in front of me, in the inner ring.”
“And it affected you now,” he said, pressing slightly with his hand. “Jesral’s glyph only?”