“Agreed,” he said. I closed the distance at a jog, assessing. To my surprise and relief Idris moved into position beside me. I had no doubt he crushed the urge to throttle Katashi then and there only because we’d all be dead if the valve blew. Priorities.
Idris gathered potency as it spewed from the damaged valve, shaped and passed it to Katashi and Tsuneo, obviously very familiar with working with the two. I copied his technique then paused, fixated on the valve. Between one heartbeat and the next the entire structure leaped into focus like one of those Magic Eye pictures that became three-dimensional if you knew how to view it. I sank my consciousness through the surface chaos and down to the valve foundation. Subtle asymmetry and imperfections became apparent exactly as they had in Kadir’s simulator on the nexus and at the valve by my pond. I understood how the technique would augment the integrity of the valve and halt the cascade to disaster. Sure, Kadir was a complete nut job, but he was also fucking brilliant. Katashi’s method was a Band-Aid where Kadir’s was a cure.
With an unexpected rush of jubilation, I ignored the wild eruptions from the valve, concentrated on the foundation and shaped potency as I never had before. Imperfections stood out as clearly as ink blots on paper, and I filled, smoothed, and balanced as though second nature.
Katashi murmured to Tsuneo in Japanese, then passed strands—and the lead—to me. I accepted potency from all three summoners and continued to sculpt and place it as needed.
“Kadir’s influence,” Katashi said after several minutes with an unmistakable undertone of annoyance.
Tense and composed, I continued to symmetrize while the others contained, collected and recycled the outflow from the valve. “Yeah, Kadir and I are tight, y’know,” I snarked.
“No,” Katashi said. “That is untrue of any.”
Memory rose of Paul kneeling at Kadir’s side. Though Katashi had interpreted my sarcastic comment literally, he was still wrong. I didn’t understand the relationship between Paul and the demonic lord, but I knew in my gut they were, in fact, tight.
At long last the valve emitted harmonious tones, and the raging red-orange emanations settled into a gentle blue-green flow. Absurdly pleased, I worked the final strands to complete the process. Tsuneo released his hold on the flows, and Katashi strode to the far side of the picnic area.
An arcane shockwave jolted through me as dozens of floating sigils ignited around Katashi. In the next instant a familiar prickle swept over my skin like a million running ants. A ritual, and I’m the target!
I lurched up in an attempt to escape the epicenter. “Idris! Pellini! Run!” I choked out as an unseen weight crashed into me, plastering me to the ground as if I weighed a billion tons.
Sick horror clawed at me as I struggled in vain to free myself. This was like the arcane-draining ritual Idris used on Pellini—only Katashi’s had to have been prepped and readied long before we arrived. A trap. And we walked right into it—cocky and certain that we had the jump on them.
Idris was beyond my line of sight, and I had no idea if he’d managed to get away. I saw Pellini bring his gun to bear on Katashi. At that point I had zero problem with Katashi getting shot in the leg, and so fucking what if it shattered his femur and he bled out.
I fought to reach my own gun, but the crushing pressure held me almost immobile. The simple act of moving my hand felt as if I hauled a loaded pickup truck. One millimeter, two. Pellini got a shot off, and bark flew from a tree not far from Katashi, but the old summoner stood unfazed at the center of his ritual. Behind Katashi a black man I recognized from Farouche’s plantation stepped out of the brush. Leo Carter. He fired at Pellini, but Eilahn tackled the detective to the ground with milliseconds to spare then leaped to her feet and bounded my way. Carter shifted his aim to her while I watched in rising dread.
“Do not kill the syraza!” Katashi ordered. Because of Rhyzkahl, I thought with relief. The syraza and the demonic lord remained connected, and if she died it would debilitate him even more.
Yet with Katashi’s ritual in effect, she still wasn’t safe. As she started toward me, I croaked out a warning for her to stay back, but her stubborn loyalty drove her onward despite the danger. Ten feet away, she dropped to her knees as the ritual sucked away her already scant arcane resources like a swarm of leeches. She went prone and extended her hand toward me, wriggled across the ground as determination glowed in her eyes. With every inch she paled more and her movements grew weaker. I struggled to scream at her to stop, to get out of the vicious ritual, but the words wouldn’t form. Go back, I shrieked at her in my head. I’d never known her to read my thoughts, but it was all I had. Stop hurting yourself!
Pellini started to rise, and Carter fired in his direction with an insultingly casual air. Pellini dropped flat again, rolled to his side and squeezed off two quick shots. The air shimmered golden in front of Katashi, and none of the men so much as flinched.