Demonstorm

Four incursions were under way that he could see from his part-covered position near the barracks. All from reavers trying to snatch the elven mages. His warriors guarded them. Dragged the enemies from the sky. Split their skulls and tore off their wings. It was the Wesmen way.

On the ground the karron stood mute. Tessaya could see diem through the holes they had torn in the walls and the gates they had destroyed before the ColdRooms had pushed them back outside the college grounds. They were strong in attack but weak in body. They succumbed so quickly to the effects of the ColdRooms. 'Lesser' the elf Rebraal termed them. Tessaya agreed.

'You worry too much,' said Tessaya. 'The Spirits are far from us and their minds are confused more than they are clear. Look at the demons now. Futile, isn't it? Why don't they use all their force to attack, do you think? They outnumber us by ten to one at the very least. It's because they know that in here we can beat them. They don't fight well. They rely on fear and we are not afraid.'

Arnoan shook his head. 'Perhaps, my Lord. Perhaps.'

'You disagree?'

'I think we have merely been contained. While they grow stronger. How long will the karron remain so weak they are barely able to enter the mage casting? They have all the time in their hands and we grow weaker.'

'I think not.'

'I mean them.' Arnoan pointed at the towers. 'When the mages are gone, we have no weapon. Why else do you think they have not tried to attack us until today if not that we can be kept until all meaningful defence is gone?'

'We will prevail,' said Tessaya.

Arnoan raised his eyebrows. 'I need to pray.'

'Try and calm your Spirits, my Shaman.'

Tessaya watched Arnoan go to the shrine he had created in the barracks' officer quarters. The attacks had broken off for the moment and Wesmen jeers chased the demons out of the casting. Drenoul was up there too, gazing down on the mistake he had made by leaving the Wesmen unchallenged. A movement in the tallest tower caught his eye and he glanced up. Arnoan's words returned unbidden to his mind and he frowned.

The atmosphere inside the tower complex was one of relief, not victory as it was outside, and he found himself doubting his confidence. He wondered what news The Raven had brought to Xetesk and what his part in it would be. He had asked not to be involved in their debate and was begi

Finally, he stared through the gates at the karron. Thousands of them. Waiting. He had to accept the fact that Arnoan might be right and so instead of taking to his bed for an hour as he had thought to do, he barked for his commanders to attend him. There was defensive pla

Hirad wasn't sure if Dystran or Vuldaroq had listened to a great deal of what The Unknown said. Both men could barely take their eyes from Erie

Enough to know what was being asked of them but little more. Hirad was feeling tired and sore. His mind was full of images of Darrick. He was furious that he hadn't been able to save him and he wasn't in the mood for anything but the answers he wanted. He barely waited for The Unknown to finish speaking.

'Either of you know who's been talking?'

His voice, loud and sharp, brought both their heads round.

'I beg your pardon?' said Dystran.

'It's just that The Unknown is sitting beside me and you barely looked at him.'

'Your point being?'

'That we're offering the one chance all of us have to beat these bastards but the pair of you are eyeing up Erie

The Unknown tensed but didn't speak.

'We have fought our way in here to do what has to be done to save our country from the problems you have caused it. And not just our country but probably countless other dimensions in addition to those we know about. Already, we have lost Ry Darrick in the struggle and Auum has lost Duele. We have lost those we sent to try and warn you what was coming. All because of you. But this isn't the time for revenge and recrimination. If it was, you'd be dead already. But what it also means is your desire to control Erie

Dystran stared at Hirad as if composing a suitable retort. But something in the barbarian's expression changed his mind and instead a wry smile crossed his face. He spread his arms.

'No one underestimates the problem we face or the losses you have suffered. But at heart we remain mages. Erie

Erie

'But as to what you ask . . .' Dystran shook his head. 'We have no way of sending you or anyone to the current demon dimension. Our link to them was all to do with focused mana trails and nothing to do with their location. I'm sorry, but we're going to have to think of another way to beat them.'

'There has to be a way to get us there. It's the only chance to close the tear, stop any more of them coming here and to disperse the mana. Without it, we're all as good as dead, you know that.'

'Yes, we know that,' said Vuldaroq wearily. 'And believe me we're sure there is a way but we just don't know it. We scoured every text we managed to steal from the library for anything useful. And we found something incredibly important. Unfortunately, it speaks of a religious punishment based on an ancient magic that died with a

race called the Charanacks. Find one alive and no doubt we'll be fine.'

'Because?'

'Because according to a note in the margin of one of our demon-ology texts, they, whoever they were, had a link to the demons. That was the punishment apparently. Banishment or some such.' Dystran paused and looked past Hirad. 'Something fu

Hirad turned. Rebraal was smiling despite the prevailing mood and Auum wore that curled-lip expression that denoted utter contempt. The TaiGethen spoke.

'Humans are so stupid,' he said in elvish that Rebraal translated. 'Always you ignore your past enemies because you think them unimportant by the mere fact of their apparent passing. And yet you wonder why it is you have no future.'

'Care to enlighten us?' said Dystran.

'Charanack is a play on an ancient elvish term,' said Rebraal. 'Chorun-y-ayck. It means man-of-the-west. I trust I don't need to make further co

Hirad exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Shaking his head he pushed himself to his feet and walked stiffly over to Dystran's balcony doors where Thraun and Ark stood on guard. He was exhausted. Gods drowning, they all were. Erie

The doors were open and he strode outside and looked down on the reclaimed college. The courtyard was crawling with Wesmen. They had clearly just repulsed another demon attack. Around two thousand warriors and their Shamen had brought a quite extraordinary optimism to the college. Their songs echoed into the sky, their cook fires burned bright and the smells of the provisions they had brought with them were driving the taste-starved Xeteskians to distraction.