strength of a daemon-prince.
‘The entire Land is a hunting ground now. I will eat the dead souls of man and daemon alike once the slaughter is done, but I do not go to war on mortals — there will be plenty enough eager for that.’
‘And King Emin is their first target?’
The hissing came again, but this time Dedessen flexed and clenched its clawed hands too.
Pleasure and anger together, or have I misread it all these years? Nai wondered.
‘The princes of Jaishen cry for vengeance, this much I hear in Coroshen. Some great offence was done and only blood will quench the flames of their wrath.’
‘Should I not seek him out then? I would not offend any prince of Ghenna.’
‘Now is a time for feeding and growing strong on the blood of others. Those who seek vengeance will overlook new rivals and become prey themselves. Go to King Emin and earn your coin for this one’s soul — but once you have your reward, you must sacrifice a child to me in return.’
Nai bowed again. ‘As you command.’
The daemon approached the circle Nai had drawn and reached into it, digging its long fingers into the dirt while a haze of bloody light reflected off the scattered white bones. Nai sensed magic fill the air and run down into the ground, but the daemon’s workings were a language separate from the spells Nai understood.
Dedessen withdrew its hand and stepped back as the earth wriggled and heaved. ‘Your guide.’
Nai watched in fascination as a small shape pushed its way to the surface, claws tearing away at the earth until it had cut itself free like a corpse rising from the dead. It was small with a squat, furred body and leathery wings furled tight to its body. The creature turned its eyeless, whiskered snout up towards Nai and he realised it had once been a mole, now twisted by the daemon’s magic to suit his purpose.
The daemon-creature opened its wings and gave them an experimental flap before beating them hard and rising up in the air just in front of Nai.
He looked for Dedessen but the daemon had already receded into the night and faded from view.
‘My guide,’ Nai repeated softly. He held out his palm and the daemon settled on it, using a hooked thumb on its wings for balance like a bat would.
‘Go, scout the Land all around us; return to me if you see danger.’
The creature dropped from his palm and darted off with surprising swiftness, disappearing from view in two rapid wing-beats. Nai stared after it for a long while, puzzling over the daemon’s words: a new Age of Darkness? Even he, a necromancer, felt trepidation at the notion.
He shook his head and returned to the fire where Amber was staring at the branches of a dead tree. In the uppermost branches sat a pair of large black birds, ravens, Nai guessed from the size. Both were watching them. Perhaps they had been wary of the daemon, but now that it was gone their scrutiny did not waver. Amber matched their unwavering stare without moving or speaking, apparently captivated by the birds.
What are ravens to the Menin, death omens? In Embere they were the souls of the dead come to speak to the living. I remember leaving out scraps for them as a child on feast days — payment for whatever words they might speak at twilight.
Nai realised he’d been holding the dead rabbit all the time. Now he held it up to his companion. ‘Dinner? Or shall I leave it for the ravens — a gift for lost souls?’
Amber blinked at him. ‘Lost souls?’ He shook his head. ‘Ravens take all the payment they need.’
The child walked alone through the streets of Wheel, Byora’s largest district, towards the long city wall. The evening sun painted his dark hair golden, and he paused in the middle of the street, eyes closed, as he savoured the warmth on his skin. All around him the life of the city continued, and the boy was barely noticed by those passing by. Those not busy with work or thoughts of heading home had another sight to linger on: a man trailing well behind who looked far less comfortable on Byora’s meaner streets.
A grey sprinkling in his hair and beard was the only hint to his true age. The silver charms on his robe were a greater clue to his profession. The mage looked nervous, cowed even, repeatedly checking the nearby alleys, but his attention always returned to the child before too long. The locals gave him a wide berth, but they were used to seeing mages walking tall and fearless, so they took the opportunity to inspect him more thoroughly.
He was far from impressive-looking: just a thin man of average height, with the pale skin of a scholar. But for the charms and pendants hanging around his neck more than one watcher might have tried to relieve him of his fine opal and firegem rings.
Just as some started to follow his gaze and wonder at the child in fine clothing standing before the open gate, another figure came down the street behind him and joined the mage. The watchers immediately looked away, as though the scent of wild roses accompanying the newcomer on the breeze was Death’s own perfume. Here was one who appeared to own all he surveyed, and none of Wheel’s residents were keen to argue the matter.
At last they realised who the child was, and the newcomer grinned as he heard gasps and whispers from all directions. He was dressed like a hero from some tale, shining breastplate and helm over a white tunic and breeches, while the hilt of his sword glittered in the light. All he lacked was a knightly crest on his shield.
‘What’s wrong, Peness? Not looking forward to this?’
‘Of course I’m not-’ Mage Peness hesitated. ‘What are we even doing here? Why is the gate still open?’
Ilumene laughed. ‘You think a gate will stop them?’
‘Surely some defence is better than none? Summon the guard, man; do something!’
‘And who’re you to give me orders?’ Ilumene demanded. Peness didn’t reply so Ilumene rested a heavy arm on the smaller man’s shoulders. ‘Why’d you want to panic the good folk of Wheel, then?’
‘Why?’ Peness lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Sergeant, there are daemons waiting out there, just waiting for sunset before they come to kill us all!’
‘No need to get excited about it, these things happen.’ Ilumene ushered Peness forward, keeping a tight grip on the man’s shoulder.
‘Wait! I can’t go out there!’ Peness gasped, struggling against Ilumene’s greater strength with increasing panic. ‘Every one of them will be after me; my soul’s a greater prize than any other in the entire city!’
‘Oh I doubt that,’ Ilumene said darkly and continued to shove Peness forward.
At last the mage stopped panicking enough to think, and a crackle of light burst over his body, darting over the silver threads of his robe and singing Ilumene’s fingers. The big man backed hurriedly off, hissing and cursing.
‘Touch me again and I’ll tear your limbs from your body!’ Peness snarled as the locals scattered in all directions to leave the two men facing each other.
‘Reckon so, do you? Fucking try it then.’
The mage didn’t hesitate. A nimbus of energy played briefly around his head as Peness summoned his strength, then he made a grabbing motion towards Ilumene’s legs and the soldier was thrown from his feet. Though he crashed heavily to the ground, somehow he managed to draw and hurl a knife — but a bright cloud of smoke enveloped it before it hit the mage, slowing it enough for Peness to pluck the weapon from the air.
In his hand the dagger spun violently about its axis while a long shaft of crimson light appeared behind it. Peness stabbed the new-formed spear down, under Ilumene’s breastplate, and felt it bite. The big soldier curled up under the force of the impact, then twisted violently away as a burst of ruby light illuminated them and the spear- shaft vanished. Ilumene rolled on the ground, his hands clasped to his chest, his face contorted with pain.
The soldier flopped in the dirt like a fish, barely a yard from Peness, who did nothing but watch. Suddenly Ilumene’s leg flashed out and caught the mage in the side of the knee. Even as he was knocked over Peness saw Ilumene scrabbling forward, not bothering to get off his knees. He pounced on the mage and punched him with his steel-backed glove, and Peness felt his nose pop and blood squirt across his cheek. The hot burst of pain took hold of him and he howled, momentarily blinded, while Ilumene crashed his fist into the mage’s ear and rolled off him, directing a kick into the man’s ribs for good measure before backing off.
Peness gasped, the breath driven from his lungs, and whimpered. Raising one hand above his head to ward off any further blows, he kicked feebly against the ground as though trying to run. Out of instinct he reached for his magic again and sparks crackled into life all down the silver thread of his robe and cast a ruby light from his blood- spattered fingertips.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and whipped round with a fistful of raging energies, but even as he cast the magic at his assailant he felt a shadow fall over him and the magic fell apart, withering to nothing. A sudden chill
