“You have been industrious,” Rhyzkahl said with a disdainful flick of his fingers toward the new and improved nexus.
“You like?” I said, smile tight. “I’m taking an art class at the Vo-Tech. That’s my senior project.” I angled my head. “Why are you tromping around my backyard like a homeless romance-novel cover model?”
Frustration skimmed over his face, but he schooled it into a haughty sneer. “Why should I not? I find this mockery of a nexus amusing.”
I lowered my gun and holstered it. “You want to take it for a spin?” I asked, watching him. “Be my guest. Go ahead and hop on up there.”
His lifted his right hand as though he wanted to strangle me with it, fingers stiff, and palm marred by a deep burn. “I choose not to.”
“Pussy,” I said.
Rhyzkahl dropped his hand as he grappled for a response. “I cannot,” he finally said through gritted teeth.
I folded my arms over my chest and paced beside the swath toward where he stood. Two planets in different orbits. “You can’t touch the nexus,” I stated, “but you can’t leave it either.” I stopped and regarded him as a theory coalesced. “Mzatal trapped you.”
Rhyzkahl put on his scowly-haughty mask, but his eyes betrayed his fear. “He is anathema,” he spat.
“To you, yes.” I looked toward the woods and the pond trail then back to the orbit of trampled grass. “Mzatal’s gone hard core and kicked you out of the demon realm.” I said, piecing clues together. Rhyzkahl’s shoulders stiffened, confirming my hunch. Tapping my chin with one finger, I considered. “Because you weren’t pulling your weight?” I shook my head. “No. You were fucking up the balance. That’s why your realm kept getting more than its share of anomalies.” I chuckled as a muscle worked in his jaw. “You were like a black hole warping the fabric of space and time with no Zakaar to stabilize you, so Mzatal drove you to the valve,” I gestured to the potency burns on his face and hand, “and chained you here.” Not only that, Rhyzkahl couldn’t read me. Of that, I was certain. “Do I have it right? Mzatal gave me a pet lord?”
Rhyzkahl took a threatening stride to the edge of his orbit. “I am not your pet,” he snarled, vein throbbing in his forehead when I didn’t flinch.
“You just need to be tamed, that’s all,” I said with a soft laugh, delighted at the outrage and denial that bristled in his stance. I was probably enjoying this way too much, but I needed it after the day I’d endured. I glanced up at the sky. “It’s supposed to rain later tonight. If you’re a good boy, I might give you a blanket.”
Rhyzkahl made an inarticulate sound as I walked away, but I didn’t look back. As soon as Idris and Pellini came home, we were going to barricade that damn valve by the pond. I didn’t care how exhausted we were. No more surprise guests.
I continued inside and to the bathroom, stripped off my clothing and, finally, indulged in the searing hot shower I’d longed for since my arrest. I shampooed my hair three times, scrubbed every inch of my body with the loofah, then closed my eyes, stood under the spray, and let my mind empty.
Eventually, I felt clean and renewed on a number of levels. After drying, I wrapped a towel around me and padded to my room, pulled on shorts and a plain t-shirt then descended into my basement.
Idris’s duffle lay in a crumpled heap on the floor beside the futon, along with a pile of dirty clothing. Ryan’s belongings occupied the dresser and table, but I had a feeling they’d never be retrieved. Szerain still maintained the Ryan persona, but for how long? A pang of loss whispered through me. The Ryan I’d laughed and cried with was gone forever. I never got the chance to say goodbye.
The cigar box that held my summoning implements rested on the oak table. I opened the lid, let the comforting scents wash over me, then lifted the knife out. Edge keen and bright, hilt as familiar as my own hand. For over a decade my identity had been wrapped up in the contents of this box and everything it represented.
Summoner. Arcane practitioner. Powerful. Special.
I replaced the knife in the box, closed it and carried it upstairs. In the laundry room, Fuzzykins lay on her side in a nest of towels while her kittens eagerly nursed. She gave me a soft brrrump and only one dubious look when I pulled down the ladder to the attic. As soon as things settled a bit I’d coordinate with Idris to send the cats to the demon realm.