Not that I knew how long that would last. He stood a short distance from me, shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. Potency swirled around him like a dark mist as he regarded me, head slightly lowered and blade clenched in his fist.

What the hell did I just do? My mind flailed unsuccessfully for an answer. He was surely going to kill me now.

He stepped in close with impossible speed. I jerked in the bindings, a breathless scream whistling from my throat. A snarl curved his mouth as he leaned close and drew a complex sigil in the air with the point of his blade. I fought back tears, trembling. What the hell did I do? I asked myself for what seemed the millionth time. I caught sight of Idris backed against the wall, and I had no doubt that the shock and horror on his face was reflected on my own.

Mzatal lifted his hand and in the next breath the blade was gone. He gripped my wrist again and laid the shimmering sigil upon my mark. “Rhyzkahl felt what was done; I have no doubt. This,” he said, stroking the sigil with his forefinger, “will serve as an alarm and deterrent until we resume again.”

To my relief the pain eased to nothing beneath the sigil. Gestamar stood. Mzatal spoke to him in demon, then shifted his attention to Idris. “Go with them,” he ordered. “Watch the mark. If there is any change in that sigil—even the barest flicker—you will lay an inverse attenuator diagram with my sigil as the focus and…Gestamar has his instructions.”

Idris paled and looked like he was about to throw up. “Yes, my lord,” he replied, voice quavering.

Mzatal looked back to where I stood. His face remained unreadable, but his eyes showed a flicker of…worry? Inquiry? It was impossible to tell, and I was far too shaken to be able to puzzle it out. He moved as if he was about to speak, then paused, turned away, and departed instead.

Chapter 10

In dismay, I watched him go, barely even noticing as Gestamar released the bindings and took my arm in a solid grip. “I don’t even know what I did,” I whispered.

“Come, Kara Gillian.” He led me to the doors and out as Idris followed behind.

I stumbled along, not making any attempt to resist. “What happened?”

The reyza turned and entered a cozy room right next to the summoning chamber. “Much,” he replied. “The catalyst being that you drew potency from the grove and disrupted the removal.” He led me to one of two big cushy chairs and gently pushed me to sit. Fine with me since I wasn’t sure I could even stand right now without my knees shaking.

“I had no idea I was drawing any kind of potency,” I protested. “It…hurt. And the blade scared me.” I clenched my hands together and dropped my eyes to the mark. With an othersight squint to counter the collar a bit, I focused. Two strands of a tight silvery sigil wound around a loop of it. By Mzatal’s mandate the thing held the key to my fate, though the bastard hadn’t bothered to share the possibilities with me. Near my wrist, a curve of the mark pulsed bright to dark with a tendril whipping around like a loose fire hose. Yep. Definitely fucked up.

Idris entered and dropped into the chair beside me. He looked shell-shocked as all hell, but he seemed to remember his orders since he glued his attention to the sigil.

Shuddering, I looked back to Gestamar. “What are you supposed to do if the mark changes?”

He crouched. “That is dependent on the outcome of the diagram Idris lays,” he said. “The mark is open. Rhyzkahl will know it has been touched. Risk of his intervention was significant, and now it is greater yet.”

I scowled. “Stop talking in circles. Did he tell you to kill me? Is that one of the possible outcomes?”

“Yes,” he replied with no hesitation. “It is one of the possibilities.”

The color drained from Idris’s face. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Wait….”

Gestamar swiveled his head toward Idris. “You will lay the inverse attenuator or her death will be the only possibility.”

He stood, clenching his hands at his sides, though to his credit he continued to watch the sigil on my arm. “Why? What gives us the right to kill her?”

“Because it is the best option,” Gestamar stated, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

Idris glanced at Gestamar and opened his mouth as though to speak, but closed it again and scowled at the mark.

I let out a soft sigh. Idris was as trapped as I was. “Idris.” I hesitated. I didn’t want to say It’s okay, because it totally wasn’t okay. At all. “It is what it is,” I said instead. “Do the attenuator thing. Whatever else happens isn’t your fault.”

“But it is,” he shot back. “It’s my fault that you’re here. Why the hell did I ever think this,” he made a mock tracing in the air, “was how I wanted to spend my life? I thought I was going to grow up to be a damn vet!”

Despite the entire situation, I had to smile. “Because you’re good at it,” I said. “You’re really damn good.”

He tried to run a hand through his hopelessly tangled curls, then gave up. “Yeah, well, I like doing the stuff, y’know? Feels natural. But this?” He gestured toward my arm as he sank back into the chair. “Watching for something that may or may not mean you’re about to get wasted by Gestamar? No. Nuh uh.”

I bit back a sigh and resisted the urge to rub my arm. I wasn’t about to defend the order to kill me, but a part of me ached that Idris was in such a situation. “Well, let’s hope that the mark stays nice and quiet.” And let’s hope that either Rhyzkahl makes a definitive move, or I find some other way to get the hell away from here. One thing was for sure—I wasn’t going to put up with being hurt anymore.

Mzatal entered. My eyes snapped to him, but he turned to Gestamar, rattling off something in demon. The reyza nodded and departed, and then Mzatal turned to Idris. “We are going to a remote location where we can work with less chance of interference. Prepare a standard research kit with additional stabilizers and go to my grove.”

Idris glanced to me and swallowed. “Yes, my lord,” he said. He turned and headed out, head bowed.

I scowled at the lord. “So what new delights have you dreamed up for me?”

He sank into the chair vacated by Idris, sat back and regarded me. “I have need to determine what will shield you from reflexively drawing upon the grove energy. Then, I will remove the mark. Rhyzkahl has not only sent a demand but now knows the mark has been touched. He will not delay long. We go to a place where he will not easily track you.”

I remained silent for a moment while I processed this, more than a little surprised that he’d bothered to explain this much to me. I finally took a steadying breath. “I know I won’t be able to talk you out of this,” I said, more calmly than I felt. “But can you please find a way to do it…so it doesn’t hurt so much?”

“I do not know that such is possible,” he replied evenly. “Not with the specialized nature of that mark.”

I could feel my mouth tighten. “Well then, why can’t you simply knock me out or something?”

“Were it possible to do it with you unconscious, I would,” he said in the same calm tone he’d used after I’d broken my leg. “The mark is deeply tied into your consciousness—moreso than a typical mark.”

I shoved a hand through my hair, frustrated. “Fine. Whatever.” I scowled. “Then let’s get this shit over with.”

“We wait upon Idris,” he replied, unruffled. “It will not be long.”

He fell silent, apparently deep in contemplation. My own thoughts drifted, and I leaned back in the chair. Shadow memories and dream fragments flickered at the edge of my mind.

Lord Mzatal approaches! I hurriedly close my journal to hide my folly, more pages filled with doodles than glyph patterning.

“Elinor, stand,” he says, holding his hand out. Heart sinking, I give him the journal, tremble as he pages through it.