Bryce snorted and folded his arms over his chest. “That would be Lannist.”
Yeah, he and I were on the same page. A big strong demahnk like Lannist would have no trouble pushing giant chunks of masonry around. And the Demahnk Council—or some faction of it—were my number one suspects as the source of the headaches.
“How did you end up with an essence bond if it was so rudely interrupted?” I asked.
The smile returned to his face. “Helori,” he said, referring to the demahnk who’d confirmed other sensitive info for me. “The next day he took us out to an Ekiri pavilion in the jungle. He told Seretis everything would be clearer for him there.”
That was interesting. The Ekiri race had taught the demons how to use the arcane. Though they’d abandoned the demon realm millennia ago, their stone pavilions continued to radiate potent arcane energy. Perhaps that energy mitigated the effects of the manipulation on the lords or served as a source of information? I filed that tidbit away for future reference.
“Being in the pavilion was like being in low gravity while time stood still,” Bryce continued as his gaze went distant. “I understood the bond—the commitment, and what it all meant. Seretis asked me if I wished to continue.” His smile softened. “It felt right, so I said yes.” He blinked as if coming back to himself. “I can’t begin to describe it, but I think you know what I mean.”
“I do, and I’m insanely happy for you,” I said fervently. Bryce deserved a break, and he looked more at peace than I’d ever seen him.
Idris leaned in, messenger bag slung across his chest. “You almost ready to go?” he asked Bryce.
“One minute,” Bryce said and tossed a set of keys that Idris caught easily. “You can get the AC going if you want.”
Idris departed. Bryce pushed back from the desk and grabbed a knapsack from beside his chair.
“Thanks, Kara,” he said. “Oh, and you don’t really get a weird look in your eyes.”
“Now you’re lying to me.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I am.” And with that he strode out.
I headed out to the nexus, thoughts whirling. Even when Mzatal was open, we never had the depth of communication between the two worlds that Bryce had with Seretis. Ours was a vague sense of presence—certainly not to the point of “checking in.”
Yet I found myself more perplexed than envious. As far as I knew Mzatal hadn’t “consciously” formed our bond. Was it not as complete because he’d acted through instinct? If so, what did that mean about our relationship? Bryce had entered into an essence bond without it being a partnership or sexual relationship. And, if it was the same kind of bond, how and why did Mzatal and I get away with it, yet an attempt was made to stop Seretis and Bryce?
Helori had intervened to help those two. Maybe the same had been done for us, through indirect means.
Too many questions and unknowns. The few answers I had left me all the more unsettled. Fortunately for my state of mind, maintenance of the nexus was overdue and required full concentration. I settled on the concrete and threw myself into the work, eager to immerse for a few hours and bury the overwhelming sense that I was no more than a pawn in someone else’s game.
Chapter 16
I didn’t intend to be one of those people who freaked out over the gory realities revealed in childbirth classes. But damn, the class with Jill was way more educational than I wanted.
It didn’t help that I’d missed the previous sessions. From what I gathered, the first sessions eased people into the bizarre concept of squirting a living being out of one’s nethers. But Jill had only a few more weeks to go before her due date, which meant I got thrown into the deep end—breathing and pushing and relaxing and blood and fluid and poop and holy shit was it ever a good thing I loved Jill.
Jill listened and took notes with the determination of a lawyer preparing to go before the Supreme Court. Steeev leaned forward in his chair, so fixated on the instructor’s every word that more than once she grew flustered by his intense regard and lost track of what she was saying. Though I couldn’t match his zeal I did my best to pay close attention. All the while I hoped and prayed to whoever might be listening that Zack would miraculously recover in time for the birth and let me off the hook.
At long last the class finished, freeing me from videos of devoted husbands counting breaths for panting wives. Jill and I headed out while Steeev hung back to collect one of every single guide and pamphlet the instructor had available.
“You want me to be in your face counting like the guys in the videos?” I asked her with a grin as we started across the parking lot.
“You’d get to ‘one’ before I punched you,” she said with a sweet smile.
I laughed. “Note to self: Stay out of punching range.”