“You need to leave before your head is too big to fit through the door.”
Bryce laughed. “It’ll be wee hours before we get back. Don’t wait up.”
I stretched and felt things pop and creak in my spine. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” I said. “Be careful.”
“The epitome of caution,” he said and exited.
Pellini rubbed his face with both hands. “What have I gotten myself into?”
“Deep shit.” I gave him a wry smile. “But we won’t let you drown.”
Chapter 20
In a spontaneous act of self-motivation, I donned workout gear immediately upon waking the next morning, determined to tackle the obstacle course for the first time since my return.
Humidity smacked me in the face the instant I stepped out the back door, a reminder of why I’d decided fitness could take a brief holiday. Ugh. Right. Summer in south Louisiana. I sighed and stepped off the porch. It would be the height of wimpiness to bail out, now that I was dressed, ready, and outside. So what if it felt as if I sucked air through a towel from the floor of a sauna. I was tough. I was fierce. I was already sweating my ass off and hadn’t even started to run yet.
Armed with that attitude, I managed to shamble through the damn thing, though I suspected that the guys had increased the height on the walls and made the entire course at least half again as long as it used to be. With no grace whatsoever, I clambered over the final wall then staggered into deep shade by the edge of the woods. Drenched in sweat, I flopped onto my back and tried to remember how to breathe like a human.
A few minutes later Idris stepped out the back door then took off for the start of the course at a brisk jog. I could only see parts of the circuit from my vantage, but every glimpse of him revealed driven determination as he assaulted the obstacles. Muddy and sweat-soaked, he finished in half the time I’d taken, yet instead of flopping on the grass like a sensible person, he immediately began the movements of the shikvihr. I watched in fascination—and a mad helping of awe—as he executed the shikvihr in a manner akin to an insanely complex martial arts kata, his face drawn tight as he concentrated. Like me, he couldn’t actualize the sigils on Earth, but his crisp, fluid motions left no doubt which sigil he traced at any given time.
My respect for him ratcheted up several degrees. He’d have the full shikvihr in no time at all. He’d do it in Mzatal’s realm on top of the basalt column with the terrifying abyss through its core—and he wouldn’t bat an eye. He’d already looked into a different kind of hell when he witnessed the brutal murder of his sister.
Idris finished the ninth ring, raked a hand through his hair, and flicked sweat away. To my amazement, he ran to the beginning of the course to start again. I rolled over and pushed to my feet. For an outrageous moment, I considered following Idris’s example and doing the course one more time. Fortunately, reason prevailed and reminded me that killing myself by heatstroke would be counterproductive. With that decided, I headed to the house—sweaty, muddy, and generally gross.
For everyone’s sake, I went straight to the bathroom and took a nice hot shower. Dressed and clean, I came back out to the kitchen to find Bryce at the table with the laptop and Pellini pouring a cup of coffee. Mouth-watering smells wafted from the oven.
“You made the coffee?” I asked Pellini.
He nodded. “You drink coffee with chicory,” he said. “I love that stuff.” He slid a glance to me. “Not sure you could’ve convinced me to stay here if y’all didn’t have decent coffee.”
“It’s the food of the gods,” I said then peeked into the oven, thrilled to see biscuits baking. “Did you make those from scratch?” I asked.
Pellini leaned back against the counter. “Are you kidding? No, there was one of those biscuit dough-in-a-tube things in the back of your fridge.”
I had zero memory of buying anything like that, but that didn’t mean squat anymore in this household. I poured myself a cup of coffee and added my usual near-lethal amounts of cream and sugar. Once settled at the table, I idly watched Bryce skim through local news reports.
When the oven timer dinged, Pellini removed the biscuits and slid them onto a plate. He set them in the middle of the table along with butter and jam, and not ten seconds later Jill and Steeev entered through the back door.
“I need sustenance for my very last day at work,” she announced as she dropped a file onto the table. She purloined two biscuits before snagging an empty chair next to Bryce, and damn if his face didn’t light up every time she walked into the room. I clung to my faith in him that told me he would never press for more friendship than she was comfortable with, but I didn’t miss the very warm smile he offered her. I also didn’t miss that Steeev swiped two biscuits for himself.