Demonstorm

Pheone slowed, ducked into heavy shadow and stopped, breathing hard. She heard no sounds of pursuit. The howling of enraged demons was distant but she knew she couldn't relax. She studied the silent buildings while she caught her breath. No one lived here any more. The demons had herded everyone they'd kept alive into the centre of the city, where they were penned and housed like animals.

A hand clamped across her mouth. She felt breath on her neck. She tried to struggle and scream but she was held tight. She let herself relax, made herself think. Kineen's face came into view and she all but wept. He released her.

'Bad place to stop,' he said. 'They are closer than you think.'

'Gods burning, you almost frightened me to death,' she managed, relieved and angry.

'Sorry,' he said and set off towards the tunnel entrance and safety. 'I couldn't risk you screaming.'

She followed him, nodding. 'What about the others?'

'They have taken other routes to split the pursuit. We have four lambs, four piglets. A good raid.'

Pheone smiled, feeling safe though she ought not to. Only she was safe enough here, wasn't she? Here in a quiet empty back street the demons never travelled; as much as inside the college where they never attacked but just watched. No. Waited.

She caught up with Kineen. 'Why don't they attack the college anymore?'

'They fear us.'

'Yes but that's not all of it, is it?'

Kineen glanced across at her. A few more turns and they were home. 'It is why we fight them out here.'

'What do you mean?'

'To keep that for which they wait as distant as we can.'

Deep inside the crypts of Dordover, the last remaining bastion of college resistance huddled. Barely two dozen were left now. The onslaught had been relendess. They hadn't been able to replenish

stamina outside the ColdRooms when the demons had found all their borders and they had too little strength to cure all the afflicted when disease had struck. Dysentery had stolen their best mages once it had taken their ability to heal themselves and now the demons were coming after what was left. They could sense the weakening. The ColdRooms were not secure, the casters were weak and the swordsmen barely had the muscle to raise their blades.

Vuldaroq, a shadow of the obese bulk he had been two years before, listened to the battering on the doors of the outer crypts. They had fled here the night before and had nothing with them. The Heart of the college was below them and they could no longer reach it.

He dragged himself to his feet and looked around the chill, lantern-lit chamber.

'They will be here soon,' he said. 'They must not take any of our souls.'

A swordsman, Marn, turned to him. 'The college must survive,' he said. 'Even if none live here until the demons are defeated. We cannot let our light fail.'

Vuldaroq managed a smile. 'That you still have hope makes you the strongest among us, my friend.'

'Not for myself, my Lord Vuldaroq, but for you and the mages we still have.' He gestured about him. 'We have been talking, the non-mages I mean. If you all have the stamina left for one more casting, there is a chance you can escape.'

Vuldaroq shook his head. He was tired. The bluster and arrogance he had carried were long since gone and he had developed an unflinching loyalty to those who had fought the demons so bravely though their efforts were ultimately to end in failure.

'We will take our lives here, leave them nothing to leech from us,' he said. 'It is as we agreed, Marn. We will die together.'

'No,' said Marn. 'It is you they want, you they prize. We can get you out.'

'How? We are trapped.'

'Yes, my Lord, but not yet quite helpless.'

Vuldaroq listened on and the spark of chance warmed his heart once more.

 

Chapter 11

 

'Unknown!'

Hirad's shout shattered the peace of Herendeneth, setting birds to flight and scattering the cattle in the yard behind the house. He pounded up the track from the landing, not even noticing the swaying trees to either side that flanked the path with such grace. All he could see was the man he hadn't laid eyes on for well over a year. It was a great sight.

The big man was dressed in light linens, his shaven head hidden from the sun under a tied-back cloth. The smile on his face was broad and his bulk almost blocked out his wife and child standing a little way behind him.

Hirad hurtled into his embrace, rocking him back a step. The two old friends spun each other around, the barbarian kissing him on the cheek before stepping back.

'Surprised?'

'I thought you'd gone elven native,' said The Unknown. 'It's wonderful to see you looking so well. Still off the wine?'

Hirad wrinkled his nose. 'They have something almost as good. Made from some tree sap or other.' He blew. 'Very sweet, very powerful.'

'So not wine at all then. Got some young stuff you should try.'

'When on Calaius, Unknown . . .'

The Unknown shook his head. 'Very funny. Seriously though, how have you been? There's a lightness about you, I'll say that.'

'Life with Auum teaches you a few things.'

'Hasn't quietened your voice though, I see,' said Diera.

Hirad stepped around The Unknown, kissed Diera and ruffled Jonas's blond hair. The boy hid behind his mother's skirts.

'And a good morning to you, Lady Unknown,' he said.

'It's good to see you, Hirad. It's been too long.'

'Yeah,' said Hirad, stepping back and taking them all in, feeling the guilt begin to nag at him like it always did when he saw them standing together, the perfect family. 'Yeah it has.'

'Come on up to the house, it's almost time for lunch anyway. Denser and Erienne are going to get a real surprise,' said Diera.

'Yes, they are,' said Hirad, unable to keep the light in his expression.

'So,' said The Unknown, slapping him on the back. 'You've got a year or more to fill me in on, man-elf. How long is Jevin staying for or is the Catalan Sun coming back to pick you up another time?'

'He'll be here a few days. As long as necessary, really,' said Hirad. 'Look, Unknown—'

But The Unknown wasn't listening to him. There were voices coming from around the corner in the path, still just out of sight.

'Who's that man, Mummy?' asked a small voice.

'That's Hirad, sweetheart, one of your father's . . .'

She trailed off, sensing the tension that had stolen through every muscle of The Unknown's body. Hirad looked briefly at her, saw the colour drain from her face and the tears already beginning to well up behind her eyes.

'Brought some friends with me, Unknown,' he said, voice close to cracking. 'I'm sorry, Diera, I'm so sorry.'

And round the corner they came, their smiles and greetings dying on their lips as the scene unfolded before them. The Unknown spared Hirad a dangerous look and turned back to watch them approach, most of them people he hadn't ever thought to see again. Darrick, Thraun, Rebraal, Auum, Duele, Evunn.

'Hirad, what is going on?' he hissed.

'Think we'll be all needing that drink,' said Hirad.

Whatever it was The Unknown said next, Hirad lost in the sound of Jonas beginning to cry and Diera shouting 'no' over and over.

'There, see it?' Kayvel was pointing out over the south-west of Lystern.

Heryst was one of a dozen faces pressed against the highest window in the tower. The day was dull and drizzling, adding to the misery of the population of the enslaved city. He could barely

concentrate on what he was supposed to be trying to see, his eyes as always drawn to the perpetual terrified drudgery that unfolded daily beneath him.

The demons had assembled the people they wanted to keep alive into buildings ringing the college and had cleared areas of the city in full view of the rebellious mages for crops and livestock. It was a reminder every heartbeat if one were needed of the Lysternans' failure to do any more than survive.