Three more cautious steps brought the pond clearing into view. A horse-sized creature with claws and scales and too many legs flailed on the ground as white light streamed from a long rent along its torso. A graa—an eighth-level demon. A heartbeat later the light spiderwebbed over its body and flared. Before I had time to cringe, a sharp crack echoed through the clearing. I blinked spots away from my vision and saw the demon was gone, leaving behind nothing but trampled grass and the stench of rotting flowers and sulfur. Sammy lay sprawled half a dozen feet away, bleeding heavily from several ugly wounds.
“Oh, no.” I ran forward, only now registering that someone else was there, crouched beside the injured dog.
“Seretis?” I blurted in shock. Tall and handsome, with brown hair that waved past his shoulders, and sculpted cheekbones. A flowing red poet-style shirt was paired with dark blue breeches and black boots with gold stitching. It was definitely him, though he looked more than a little worse for the wear. One sleeve bore a rip from shoulder to elbow, mud caked his left boot to the ankle, and blood oozed from a palm-sized abrasion on his cheek. He ran his hands lightly over Sammy and murmured in demon. I fumbled for words, torn between the desire to ask how the hell he was here and my worry for the dog. “Please, can you help him?” I asked as I dropped to my knees by Sammy. Other answers could wait.
“I seek to do so, Kara Gillian,” he said. “The flows here are odd and far weaker than I am accustomed to.” His aura surrounded me like a soft summer breeze. Though muted without my arcane senses, it remained clearly palpable.
“Thank you. He’s very dear to a friend and ally.” The dog whimpered, and I stroked his head. “It’s okay, boy,” I said to him. “The nice man is going to help you.”
Sammy shifted only enough to lick my hand as the demonic lord worked on him. The bleeding soon slowed to mere seeping, but the wounds remained open and ugly.
“A support diagram would serve well,” Seretis said without lifting his eyes from the injured animal.
My stomach knotted. “I can’t,” I said, voice rough. “I don’t have my skills anymore.”
“Ah,” he said simply. “That is unfortunate.”
Not quite the word I’ve been using, I thought but kept it to myself. Damn it, Seretis needed support. Sweat beaded his face, and his skin had a pale cast to it. An unfocused look in his eyes told me he fought dizziness. He needed better access to potency, like a human at high-altitude in need of an oxygen tank.
I gave myself a mental head-slap. Duh. There was a big ol’ tank of potency right in my backyard. “Can you stand?” I asked him. “There’s a nexus right down that trail which should help you.”
“I will manage,” he replied then deftly traced a sigil I couldn’t see which he placed on the dog. To ease pain, I figured. I’d been through that process a few times and knew the general motions.
Sammy’s whining eased, which told me I was right. Seretis gathered the dog in his arms and stood. “I have told Bryce to remain where he is as he was afflicted by my transit through the valve.”
Through the valve? That explained part of how he got here, though I still had plenty of questions. “Yeah, it knocked him for a loop,” I said then took hold of Seretis’s arm to steady him when he swayed. “C’mon, it’s not far.”
He cradled Sammy to him and allowed me to lead him down the trail. When the dog whimpered he spoke gently in demon to ease him. “How did you lose your touch to the arcane?” Seretis asked me in an equally gentle tone. “To tell me, you need only bring it to mind.”
Relieved, I did so. I had no desire to tell the painful story again. After a moment he nodded. “I will assess your condition after tending to this Sammy.”
At least he didn’t say I was fucked. I could cling to hope a while longer.
Seretis steadied more as we left the trail and moved out into the open, no doubt already drawing the potency he so desperately needed. Bryce sat in the center of the nexus with a huge grin on his face, but his delight faded at the sight of the bloody dog.
“Shit,” he breathed. “It’ll kill Pellini if Sammy dies.”
Seretis placed the dog on the slab then rested a hand briefly on Bryce’s shoulder. “Give me but a moment, ghastuk,” he said with a rich warmth in his voice. He placed both hands flat on the concrete, and though I couldn’t see the power he drew into himself to “recharge,” I had no trouble seeing the results. In less than a minute his color returned to normal, the abrasion on his face diminished then vanished, and his gaze sharpened.