“Sorry.” I winced. “It was, um, an aversion, but it wasn’t supposed to do that.”

A streak of blue caught my eye, and a heartbeat later Jekki zipped up to Ryan with a tumbler of tunjen in his hand.

“You’re the best, Jekki,” I said fervently. “Drink that, Ryan. It’ll help.”

He took the tumbler and gave the contents a dubious sniff. “What is it? And yes, before you give me a smartass answer, I know it’s fruit juice.” He gave me a crooked grin. “Something exotic?”

“It’s a demon realm version of the ultimate sports drink,” I told him.

He took a careful sip, blinked. “That’s good.” He quickly drained the glass.

“Told you.” I smiled, relieved to see his color return. “Better?”

“I feel fine now,” he said, getting to his feet. “But you get to hose down the tarp.”

“Only fair,” I admitted. “It was my fault, after all.”

“Glad my puke could be of service,” he said, then gave me a weak grin and returned inside.

After I hosed down the tarp and set it out to dry, I took the sketch pad, went in search of Paul, and found him dozing on the couch with his tablet on his chest. Nearby, Bryce sat in the comfy chair and fervently vaporized aliens with the sound muted.

Paul looked so damn adorable it seemed a crime to wake him. “Hey, Bryce?” I said quietly. “You think Paul will be awake soon?”

Bryce paused the game. “Only to stumble to his futon.” At my questioning look, he continued, “He keeps weird hours. Usually sleeps from about five or six in the morning until afternoon. He says that’s what feels normal to him, and makes it easy for him to connect with his contacts on the other side of the world.”

I controlled my disappointment with effort. A few more hours wouldn’t make a difference, right?

Bryce saw right through it, and his eyes dropped to the pad. “If you have something for him, he’d want you to wake him up.”

Well, Bryce knew him better than anyone, and I didn’t need any more encouragement. “Hey, Paul?” I touched him on the shoulder.

He startled enough to send a wisp of guilt through me, then gave me a sleepy smile and stretched like a waking kitten. “Hey, Kara. You need the couch?”

Somehow I managed to control the D’awwwwww, you’re so darn cute sappy smile. “No, but I do have something for the Idris hunt,” I said. “Sorry to wake you, but Bryce said you’d want to see it.”

Paul pushed himself up to sit, curiosity winning out over a desire for more sleep. “Yeah? Whatcha got?”

I opened the pad up to the final drawing of the ring, carefully tore out the page and handed it to him. “What about this? Can you do something with this?”

He set his tablet aside and took the sheet, eyes widening in surprise at the quality of the drawing. “Wow. I can totally work with this.” He looked up at me, incredulous. “You did this?”

I laughed. “Are you kidding? No, someone else did, but it’s best not to ask too many questions about that.”

“That’s cool,” he said with a grin. “I’m used to not asking questions.” He stood and started toward the office with page and tablet in hand. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“You’re wonderful,” I said fervently, then flopped down in the place he’d vacated. Jekki whooshed in and put a plate of mini-pancakes and bacon on the coffee table.

Bryce thanked him and tossed the second controller to me. “Bet you a dollar Paul will have something in ten minutes.”

I took the controller, raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll take that bet. No one’s that good.”

Bryce opened his mouth for a comeback, but Jekki beat him too it. “No doubting the Paul-dude!” he exclaimed then zoomed back to the kitchen.

Bryce and I burst out laughing. He lifted his controller. “You heard Jekki. We only have ten minutes. Let’s do this thing.”

And we did. I sucked at video games in general, but even with my crappy skills, I still found something deeply satisfying in a recreation where I knew exactly who my enemies were and could then blast them into messy bits.

“Hey, Kara?” Paul shouted from the office a little later.

“What?” I hollered back, eyes still glued to the screen. These aliens weren’t going to kill themselves.

“I think I have something on the ring!”

Bryce laughed and put out his hand. “Pay up!”

I paused the game, then gave a mock-scowl and made a show of looking at my watch. “Damn. That took him a whole six minutes,” I muttered. “Freakin’ geniuses.”

“Never doubt the Paul-dude,” Bryce said with a sage nod.

My brain and experience told me there was no way Paul had found anything of significance so quickly, but I unfolded my legs, stood, and proceeded to the office. Bryce followed and leaned against the doorframe.

“Show me,” I said.

“I don’t know if it’s the same one,” Paul said as he beckoned me over to where he sat at the desk, laptop with mouse in front of him, and my old monitor to the side displaying a screen full of rapidly changing numbers. “But it looks pretty close to the drawing.”

Every possible doubt I had of his skill evaporated as I peered at the picture on his laptop screen. A faded color close-up photo of a woman in her early thirties or so seated at a picnic table and flanked by a smiling boy and girl about five or six years old. Twins perhaps? All appeared to be of middle-Eastern descent and each held up a paper cup as though for a toast. The trunk of a humongous redwood tree dominated the background. But the detail that drew my eye was the woman’s right hand and the ring on her middle finger, clearly visible against the white of the cup.

“That sure looks like it,” I murmured. I took in the features of the unusual ring and allowed myself a mental sigh of disappointment that we didn’t instantly have our guy. The hand I’d seen had definitely been a man’s. “Can you zoom in?” Paul clicked the mouse a few times, and the ring obligingly grew larger, though fuzzy.

“It’s a scan of an older photo, which is why it’s pixilated,” he explained. “It was scanned about a decade ago, but I think the photo itself is about forty years old judging by the clothing style.”

“I can see the ring well enough,” I said. “Zoom back out, please?” He obliged. I tried to see if anyone in the picture looked familiar, but came up empty.

“It’s either the same ring or one exactly like it,” I said.

“This is the only image I felt,” he told me, “which means that if there are more like it, it’s unlikely there are pictures of them anywhere online.”

I blinked. “That you felt?”

Paul ducked his head and hunched his shoulders. “Um, yeah.” He fidgeted. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Mzatal told me you use the computers as a way to connect to the Earth flows.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “Is that what you mean?”

His face brightened. “Yeah. I didn’t know that’s what it was until I met Lord Mzatal. I, um, don’t usually talk about it.” He glanced beyond me to Bryce as though for reassurance, then brought his gaze back to me.

“Trust me, this is a safe place for talking about weird shit,” I said with a laugh. “Is that how you found an obscure photo of the ring so quickly?”

“Pretty much.” Then he rolled his eyes. “If I’d used conventional methods alone it would have taken ages, or I might not have found it at all.”

“And it’s exactly what I was looking for.” I lifted my chin toward the screen. “However, it wasn’t on a female hand when I saw it. Can you find out who this woman is?”

Paul smiled. “Way ahead of you. It was easy to link to the photo. I’ll show you the name. Better than me trying to pronounce it.” He changed screens so I could read it for myself.

I straightened. “I know that name. She’s a summoner.” Rasha Hassan Jalal al-Khouri. This was the woman who’d summoned Jekki’s partner, Faruk, during the Christmas celebration while I was in the demon realm. According to Mzatal, it was the first time she’d summoned in almost a decade. I looked back toward the door. “Jekki!”