the question of whether the Order will have a saviour to follow is now moot.’
‘So that’s a no,’ Ilumene said, looking satisfied. ‘You’re a politician and a man of power after all. You can’t spend your time dreaming about such things — most likely you reckon if it does turn out that way the best thing you could’ve done was build the Order’s strength anyway.’
When Certinse didn’t comment Ilumene smiled and reached into his pocket. ‘There is one other thing,’ he said, almost apologetically. ‘Many of Ruhen’s followers have taken to wearing a symbol of their devotion. We ask you wear this — not openly if you prefer — in acknowledgement of our alliance.’
He held up a thin chain on which hung a small silver coin. Certinse took the coin from Ilumene’s open palm and inspected it. He guessed it had once been a silver level from Byora, but someone had done a good job of erasing what had been stamped into the metal. Now it bore only a circle on one face and a cross on the other, and each groove had then been painted in.
‘A charm?’
Ilumene shook his head. ‘A symbol only — feel free to have a mage investigate.’ He watched Certinse examine the coin, not speaking, but when the man continued to look sceptical Ilumene reached into his collar and pulled out a second coin, identical to the one he’d given Certinse. ‘You can have mine if you prefer? For a man in your position wariness is never a wasted effort, but this one’s certainly done me no harm.’
Certinse agreed and they swapped. Ilumene wasted no time in hanging the first chain around his neck and tucking it back under his tunic. Feeling foolish, Certinse did the same, gingerly slipping the chain over his head and letting it rest on his armour for a few heartbeats. Nothing at all happened, and when he slipped it underneath the only result was a slight cold touch as the metal came into contact with his skin.
For his visitor, that seemed to be enough. Ilumene rose and slipped his sword onto his back. ‘Consider your wishes come true then.’
‘What, now? Already?’
‘Come with me and you’ll see. Your men will get no resistance at the armoury; you can mop up the Penitents and the rest easily enough — they’re all waiting for orders that aren’t likely to come unless the remaining clerics are less argumentative than either of us believes.’
‘And you’ll be alongside me why exactly?’
‘Solidarity,’ Ilumene said brightly, ‘and in case there’s a fanatic within your own men you don’t know about. Don’t worry, the victory’ll be yours; I’m just there to be seen on your side. You can even give me some orders publicly if you like.’
‘So this was already in play? But what if I’d refused your terms, struck my own bargain?’
The big man in white shrugged and opened the door, holding it for Certinse to go first. ‘Some priests I don’t care about would have been dead. Maybe your guilty conscience would have kept you up at nights, but you strike me as a man who prefers his nights restful.’
He gave the Knight-Cardinal a gentle pat on the shoulder as he urged him out the door. ‘Jumping at every shadow or strange noise grows tiring, so I’m told.’
CHAPTER 7
‘What are you doing, necromancer?’
Nai paused in his gestures and glanced over at Amber. The Menin soldier sat in a slouched heap beside their small fire, looking as exhausted as he sounded. Small sparks smouldered on his boot, orange pinpricks against the black leather. When Nai pointed to them Amber frowned at the fading glows for a long while before eventually dropping a heavy hand on them to extinguish them. The only other movement he could bring himself to make was to scratch the scabs of a graze on his cheek, where Nai had scraped a temporary rune into his skin.
‘I’m going to summon a spirit,’ Nai replied at last, ‘something that can scout the path for us. There’s likely to be all sorts roaming in the wake of an army, but none friendly to us.’
‘Spirit or daemon?’
Nai ignored the question and returned to his preparations. He’d drawn a circle in the bare earth beneath a yew tree and scattered a handful of bones within it around a small, blackened bowl into which he’d put a pinch of herbs soaked in blood.
He spoke a long mantra over it before igniting the herbs. ‘Dedessen, I summon you,’ he intoned, bowing towards the bowl, ‘Dedessen, receive my praise; Dedessen, accept my sacrifice.’
Behind him was a young rabbit, feet bound together and magically subdued but still alive. Nai bowed again to the bowl and drew a knife across the rabbit’s throat. Blood spurted out over the circle as the rabbit convulsed twice, then died. The air around him seemed to thicken, becoming hot and close as a bitter stink filled the fitful evening breeze.
Nai bowed his head again and was about to repeat the mantra when a whispery voice cut through the night.
‘Ever faithful to the old covenants,’ the daemon said from somewhere nearby, ‘your sacrifice is welcomed, Nai.’
The necromancer bowed again before sitting up straight and looking all around, trying to work out where the voice had come from. It had emanated from several directions at once, but he knew it would incarnate soon.
‘I am glad it pleases you, mighty one.’
‘What do you seek of me? Wisdom or wrath; concealment or craft?’
In front of Nai the deep blue evening sky shimmered, folded back on itself and tore to reveal a slender-limbed figure draped in black cloth. The cloth hung down over its body in long strips a hand-span wide, each weighted at the bottom by a writhing iron charm. The daemon itself had parchment-pale skin and thin eyes that glowed red as they moved between Nai and Amber. Despite its long hooked claws and a pair of massive fangs, its speech was refined, its gestures neat and elegant.
‘You have found a protector, at least? But no, it does not reach for its swords — it cannot be much of a guard dog.’
‘More of a commodity,’ Nai said with a smile and a twitch of the finger that caused the scabbed rune on Amber’s cheek to glow briefly. The big soldier flinched and looked away. He knew the fate Nai had in mind for him, but he believed Nai when he said the rune’s spell would make doing anything about it a dangerous prospect.
‘I beg for assistance, some creature of yours to scout the way for me and provide a safe path towards Narkang.’
‘You seek Narkang, or its king?’
‘Its king — why — is he dead? I raised shades both within the Herald’s Hall and on Ghain itself, and no word of King Emin was mentioned there.’
‘Perhaps he lives, perhaps he has fallen.’ The daemon edged closer, as though wary of being overheard. ‘The borders are weakened between this and the other lands and many of my kind can cross freely. King Emin chooses dangerous company.’
‘“Cross freely”? The Gods weakened themselves that much?’
Dedessen hissed like a snake, but Nai knew the threatening sound was more an expression of pleasure than anything else.
‘They have broken their errant Chosen, but so high, so high the price. Now they reach into the mind of every mortal, every immortal, and tear out what they cannot stand, then retire across the seas. Now has come another Age of Darkness, now daemons hunt freely, and some they hunt with a rage never before seen.’
‘Do any hunt here?’
‘Certainly,’ the daemon said as it gestured to the east, ‘they gather even now. Byora has cast out the Gods from their hearts. There is space only for fear there now, and my kind will be drawn to feed.’
‘But not you.’ It wasn’t a question; not all daemons were the same and those bloodthirsty monsters descending upon Byora were of a lower breed. Age brought wisdom of a sort to daemons, a diminished hunger for violence and savagery when better sources of power were available. Dedessen would be naturally wary of Byora, given recent events there. The Devil’s Stairs — direct paths between the Land and Ghenna — made it an enticing hunting ground, but either Stair’s creation suggested great power was present there, and Dedessen lacked the
