largest spread of life energy and had left themselves open to the counter. Satisfied though he was with their defence, these attacks marked a change in Ferouc's attitude. But more than that, they told of the swiftly increasing strength of the invaders. While still vulnerable within the ColdRoom lattice, they were no longer merely sitting targets. Their power lasted long enough for them to make meaningful incursions and the length of time they could fight within the mana-free environment was growing.
Next to Blackthorne, his mage looked on in concern. The young woman's face was thin from lack of food and the worry lines etched deep on her pale features.
'What it is, Kayla?'
'They're different somehow,' she said. I can see a mana signature encasing them. It's like they're coming in on bubbles of mana energy which isn't dissipating like it should.'
'That explains a lot.' It was as Ferouc had said in earlier conversations. Mana density was growing. He didn't really need Kayla's confirmation. It was getting very cold now.
A burst of noise from the south-east told of the reserve engaging the demon attack there. Blackthorne wiped a gauntleted hand across his mouth and tightened grip on shield and sword.
'Kayla, back to cover. Three of you go with her. The rest, with me. Time for some fun.'
Blackthorne ran in, feeling the cold air fill his lungs, blowing away the cobwebs from his mind and body. Ahead of him, the demons were upping their frenzy. More fell from the sky to join those attacking the square. Beyond the thrashing limbs and beating wings of the blue, black and green soul stealers he could see the faces of his men. Scared for their lives but determined. They focused on what Darrick had taught them. Heavy body blows to weaken. Drive them back, don't break ranks. Shields up and to the fore. Don't blink, don't flinch.
A tall, wiry demon staggered backwards from a mace blow to the
chest, its flailing hand missing its target by a hair's breadth. Black-thorne scythed his sword through its back, slicing its left wing from its body. Dark blood sprayed and the creature screeched and tried to turn. Blackthorne backed up one pace. The demon's skin writhed. Veins pulsed and its colour snapped to a startling blue. Unbalanced by the loss of its wing, it couldn't face up to attack and Blackthorne drove his sword deep into its gut and heaved it up and out. It dropped.
'Back!' he yelled to his guard. 'Looking up!'
Four of them dropped from above. Claws in front, wings swept back and tails streaking behind them. As he had been taught, Blackthorne held his shield above his head and peered round it, waiting for the beasts to strike. He and his men bunched close.
'Steady,' he said. 'Waiting.' The demons were on them. 'Crouch!'
They dropped to their haunches, feeling the clatter of demons on their shields and the swish of claws. Next to him, one of his guard crumpled, talon marks deep in his face, his soul taken. Blackthorne bellowed fury and surged upright, bringing his other four men with him. The demons flittered away but the killer not far enough. Blackthorne smashed his shield into its face and whipped his sword through its chest, practically dividing it in two. Like its victim, it didn't have time to scream.
Around him, his guards beat back the others, leaving Blackthorne a run back towards the square which was holding firm. Sword squads ran in from three sides and he joined them. Demons were cut down, blades opening up their backs, the cuts as easy as scything corn.
'Hold, they're weakening,' he called. 'Let's hear you!'
A roar greeted his shout and he punched the air with his sword, backing off a pace again, collecting his guards and looking up. Around the periphery, the activity was lessening. Ferouc was up there, flitting from side to side, his pigment close to white in his unfettered rage.
'Got you this time you bastard!' Blackthorne laughed upwards.
And it was true. The sword squads came in again. More demons perished, more alien blood spattered his ground. With one ear-splitting shriek, Ferouc called the attack off. Blackthorne saw
winged figures climbing back into the sky from three locations and heard cheers sound around his town.
He nodded and breathed out heavily. A quick count around him told him he'd lost eight men, but the price for the demons had been much heavier. Even so, it was an attrition rate with only one outcome. He turned to a guardsman.
'Find me Luke. They'll be back and they won't be so easy next time.'
Blackthorne strode back towards the casste. He could see Ferouc's game plan. It was as obvious as day followed night. Weaken them enough, then go after the lattice mages. He wasn't sure if the demons really knew where they were but he would have to increase the guard on them. Either that or pull them further underground. It was an option but doing so reduced the ceiling above the town.
He and Luke had much to discuss.
Dystran and Vuldaroq stood side by side and watched the demons drift slowly across the ColdRoom shield above Xetesk. There were hundreds of diem, if not thousands, like a carpet across the sky. So many that the light of day was dimmed and lanterns were lit inside. It was a new departure for them and a new class of demon. Unlike the classic terror shapes of myth, legend and now hideous reality, these had already been dubbed 'gliders' when they first appeared in the sky two days before. Since then, their number had multiplied dramatically and he had received reports of flights of gliders heading north towards Julatsa and north-east to Lystern.
They were a strange-looking demon and that was among a race of unusual creatures. Flat, coloured and textured not unlike a beaten and tenderised steak. Thousands of fine hairs covered their undersides, which also housed eyes and mouth. These hairs rippled and swayed as the creatures moved, undulating their bodies gently. They had little in the way of limbs. Vestigial arms either side of their head section and no legs at all.
That they weren't soul stealers had become apparent very early on, not to mention a huge relief. The gliders were present in numbers enough to really threaten them but instead they had crawled over the lattice, directed by the tentacled masters who hovered nearby, eyes on everything.
'You know what they're doing, don't you?' said Vuldaroq.
Dystran looked across at the man at his side. He had discovered a respect for his former enemy during the few days of their enforced close contact. The Dordovan Arch Mage had worked tirelessly with Suarav and Sharyr, helping them in the aftermath of their ordeal in the library and bringing them, if not out of their shock, then at least to a place where they could begin to deal with it. Neither had taken up his duties to the full and the other survivor, Brynel, was still in the makeshift infirmary, the chill deep in his body.
'Enlighten me,' he said.
'Watch the way they move across the shield. It looks random when you first look but there is an order to it. I've counted greater densities in some areas that then disperse and allow other even more concentrated groups to form in the same place. Like they're confirming what they think they've discovered. It's actually very logical.'
'You haven't done a lot else but stare at them, I take it.'
Vuldaroq shrugged. 'There is so much time for your mind to play tricks on you and undermine you. Best to keep busy.'
'What are they tracking?'
'The mana trails feeding the ColdRooms, I think.'
Dystran pulled his cloak tight around him, a chill gust whisding through the open doors of the tower complex in whose shadow they stood.
'That's a worrying thought.'
T suppose it rather depends why they're doing it,' said Vuldaroq.
'Much as I'd like to, I can't believe it would be out of curiosity,' said Dystran.
'No, but there is more than one possibility.' Vuldaroq had never had much of a sense of humour but these last two years had removed whatever vestiges remained.
'They shouldn't be able to detect the trails, you know,' said Dystran as the thought occurred. 'They would dissipate instantly on contact with the edge of the construct.'
'Well, I think they can and you only have to see where it is they're hovering for longer periods and where their density increases. It's always above the mana-feed trails.' He shook his head. 'They're getting stronger.'
'Agreed,' said Dystran. 'Mana density is rising fast out there now. So, you dunk they're coming in?'
'Yes, and it won't be too long. The most likely reason for tracking the feed trails is to target the casting mages. But they could be doing something as simple as probing the linkages. After all, where the overlap is less, we are more vulnerable.'
