‘Come on, you bastard,’ Amber growled, grabbing Mikiss by the arm and dragging him back inside. ‘Shart, check the other side of the house; let me know if there’s anyone out there as well. Nai, your master had better get more involved or we’re in trouble. There must be more than one mage out there.’
Shart ran into one of the front rooms. There was a clatter as something broke under the soldier’s weight. Then he called back, ‘Soldiers at the gate, pikemen of some sort -maybe the city guard. There are women in white standing before them. They’ve not come through yet.’
‘Damn, White Circle mages? How in the name of the Lowest Pit did they get here so fast?’ Amber looked at his men, assessing his options, then ordered, ‘Nai, go and tell your master we need a diversion.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ said a calm voice from the cellar stair, making them all jump. Isherin Purn loomed suddenly from the kitchen shadows and stepped into the hallway, a smile of quiet pleasure on his face and a red flicker in his eyes. ‘Nai, please fetch my books from the study table.’
‘We’ve got at least three separate parties surrounding us, two with mages. You have an escape route planned?’ Amber snapped.
Purn glared at him, and both the major and the messenger recoiled. The necromancer was a thin man, and hairless, no taller than Mikiss. He was believed to be around sixty winters, but his face remained unlined. Mikiss guessed that was some dark pact. It gave the necromancer an air of unearthly, timeless cruelty.
‘Major, you will modify your tone of voice with me.’ Purn’s voice sounded distracted, as though the physical world were only part of what he had to concentrate on at any one moment. ‘I have released the wards on the boundary and triggered all the invocations within the grounds.’
‘They hadn’t all been triggered already?’ the major asked, a little taken aback.
‘The magic is complicated; you will not understand it,’ Purn said. ‘All you need to know is that there will be more appearing as we speak, drawn by the murder already done. They are free to leave the grounds now, and you will be just as great a target as any other mortal nearby.’
‘Isn’t that going to make this even harder?’ Amber asked, trying to control his temper.
‘Not at all, as long as you stay close to me. In the general chaos they will cause it will be simple enough to go unnoticed.’ Purn turned at the sound of his servant returning, laden with a bulky canvas bag slung over his left shoulder. ‘Ah, excellent, Nai; you are sure you have them all?’
‘Yes, master,’ Nai replied, ‘and you had missed Chalem’s
Experiments with Fire
so I took the liberty of bringing that as well.’
Purn sniffed. ‘The loss of any book is a waste, I suppose.’ He pointed past Amber and through the high empty reception rooms. ‘Come then, Major, that way, please. Get ready to go through one of the windows, but don’t leave the building until I have joined you.’
Purn’s smile faded as he touched his fingers against the splintered door frame, concentrating. He began to whisper under his breath. As Amber grabbed Mikiss by the collar and hauled him off after the brothers, they caught sight of a thin finger of flame that darted up to the ceiling and spread in all directions. By the time they had crossed the two rooms to reach the tall shuttered windows on the far side, a deep orange light outlined the doorway and Mikiss could hear the flames hungrily consuming the building.
Shart and Mikiss set to clearing away the debris below the window and forcing the warped shutters open. From outside came the sounds of magic; the fierce crackle of lightning and, suddenly, a raging wind, all overlaid with panicked cries. Despite the noise, Mikiss heard Purn’s footfalls as the necromancer marched in after them, silhouetted against the rising flames.
‘Well now, chaos reigns in my wake,’ Purn declared, ‘so let us be off.’
He pushed past the soldiers and peered out of the window, then hopped through with remarkable agility. As Keneg and Shart followed, a great chattering began in the low undergrowth nearby.
‘Tsatach’s balls, what’s that?’ Shart demanded, looking anxiously at Purn.
The necromancer tugged his cloak straight. ‘That? A local spirit I recruited to the cause.’ Any further explanation was cut short as a shape burst from under a bush and leaped at Purn. It passed straight through the necromancer’s body, skidded on the ground and slammed into the side of the house.
Mikiss stared down at it as the spirit scrabbled to right itself. It looked somewhat like a spider, only with four short, powerful legs, each one ending in a pair of large claws. He couldn’t see the face, which was set deep into the body, but the hiss of fury it directed towards Purn was all too obvious.
The necromancer stared down at the creature, an expression of mild curiosity on his face. He said nothing, but continued to inspect the creature, until Shart took matters into his own hands and slammed his axe down onto it, cutting it nearly in two. ‘It didn’t seem to like you so much,’ he said, hauling his axe free. ‘It looked at me for a moment, then went back to working out how it was going to gut you.’ He stopped talking as a black man-like shape rose up behind Purn, claws outstretched.
The necromancer disappeared entirely as the phantom touched him. It surged forward and raked its claws down Shart’s face, and he howled and collapsed in a heap. The phantom ignored Keneg, who jumped over his prone brother and attacked, but it was like trying to cut through fog. His sword was useless against the strange being.
Major Amber shoved Mikiss out the way and vaulted through the window, but before he could join the attack, a shaft of white light lanced out from inside the room and pierced the shadowy form assailing Shart. The phantom reeled, shrieking, and rose up in the air, writhing and screeching, then fled over the tree tops until it dissipated in the sky.
Mikiss turned to see who had cast the spell, and was shocked at the sight of Isherin Purn, standing placidly beside his encumbered servant. He looked back: there was no trace of the necromancer on the ground.
‘But? I saw it—’
‘What you saw was an illusion,’ Purn said.
‘My master abhors the prospect of physical injury,’ Nai explained, rather contemptuously. ‘He sent an illusion of himself on ahead to see what was out there.’
‘They are now released from my control,’ Purn protested, ‘and obviously some will try to kill me for imprisoning them in the first place.’ He looked flustered now, as if Nai’s unspoken reprimand had struck a nerve.
Nai gave a snort that seemed to indicate sympathy for the daemons outside and clambered out of the window. Mikiss gave Purn a puzzled look, but the necromancer had regained his composure and his dark glower returned. Mikiss didn’t wait to see the red glow return to Purn’s eyes. He almost fell out of the window in his hurry to escape.
Shart lay on the floor, the major kneeling over him, pressing hard on his chest. Mikiss could see blood all around him.
The major’s face was grim when he looked up. ‘Purn, can your magic help him?’
The necromancer laid a hand on Shart’s bloodied face. He shook his head. ‘Your man is dead. I could have him up and walking in half a minute, but I doubt you would appreciate it.’ He didn’t have to go into detail.
Before anyone could move, a group of men rounded the corner of the house, weapons held low against whatever they were likely to meet. They stopped dead when they saw the Menin soldiers. The sight of six men, one probably dead, rather than a horde of daemons, left them momentarily confused.
One man said something and the rest closed ranks, in anticipation of attack. Keneg obliged with a roar and Major Amber ran to his side, followed by Nai, who abandoned his bag of books and snatched up Shart’s axe from the ground. Keneg battered aside one pike-head and decapitated its owner without a pause. The major followed suit before anyone else had the chance to attack.
Then Mikiss found himself screaming a warning -a woman was sprinting around the corner after the soldiers. He couldn’t work out what she thought she could achieve, for she carried no weapons . . . She was making straight for Keneg, who raised his sword and stood ready. The woman didn’t slow her charge, but her body blurred and dropped low to all fours with astonishing speed and Keneg’s blade met nothing as a huge lioness came up under his guard and slapped one razor-sharp clawed paw into his gut. The lioness buried its teeth into Keneg’s forearm and used its great weight to bear him to the ground.
Major Amber rushed to join the attack, but the lioness pulled Keneg, howling in pain, out of reach, dragging him by the arm as if he were a rag-doll. Amber raised his sword, preparing to rush the lioness, when another group of soldiers rounded the corner, led by a second woman brandishing two swords.
‘Put up your weapons,’ the woman shouted, the men behind her spreading out. On her left was a nobleman, dressed as if for a state banquet but clearly able to use the needle-sharp rapier in his hand.
‘Fucking animal,’ Keneg bellowed, swinging his free arm around to punch the lioness in the throat with all the strength of a desperate man.
Major Amber stood ready against the oncoming soldiers as Keneg struggled to his feet, trying to buy them some space, all thoughts of his own safety long vanished. Once upright, Keneg charged forward, swinging wildly at the lioness, who growled at him and retreated, leaving him facing the other woman. He screamed a challenge at her and rushed in, but she parried his blows with ease, her twin blades moving in perfect unison.
Finally Keneg gasped and sank to his knees, his fury gone in a shudder of pain. The woman hardly broke her stride as she spun around and pierced his body, heart and lung. He heaved one great hacking cough, gouts of blood erupting from his mouth, and sank to the ground.
‘Gentlemen.’ Yet another woman stepped forward from behind the attackers, dressed as a member of the White Circle. She carried no weapons and wore no armour, but there was a grim promise in her voice as she said, ‘I suggest you drop your weapons immediately; I am in no mood to play games.’
Purn stepped forward. ‘And I suggest you get out of our way or I will summon the daemons walking this place to destroy you.’ Mikiss saw the deep red glow radiating from the necromancer’s eyes again.
‘Oh, spare me,’ the woman growled, pushing her shawl back to reveal lustrous black hair and elegant features. ‘They might be daemons, but they’re not stupid.’
Purn gave a yelp and staggered back, one hand raised as though to ward off a blow. The woman, bristling with barely restrained anger, stepped towards them, apparently completely unafraid of the weapons they still carried.
Purn gave an unintelligible cry and turned to flee, diving for the bag of books Nai had dropped and hunkering low over them as shadows from all sides appeared up to envelop him.
When the shadows faded away, the necromancer Isherin Purn was nowhere to be seen.
The woman with the short swords started to move forward but stopped at a raised finger from the White Circle mage.
‘No, forget him; he’ll not have gone far, and with luck he’ll deal with some of the creatures he released here so I won’t have to bother.’ She bestowed a glittering smile on Major Amber, Mikiss and Nai.
Mikiss felt himself shy away from her look as a sense of horror flooded his mind and the fingers holding his sword went numb.
‘Now, gentlemen; please be good boys and come quietly.’
Not far away, Abbot Dorn sat in his study behind locked and barred doors, fearfully watching the wildly flickering light cast by an oil lamp on the wall beyond. His hands shook as he felt the heavy footfalls of daemons walking the Land and heard their voices echo out on the rushing streams of magic. Despite the unnatural heat, he felt the room grow cold and the shadows deepen. There was no breeze in the cellar, but the lamp suddenly guttered down to almost nothing, leaving only a trembling finger of light. The abbot reached under the table that served as his desk and slipped open the box there. He withdrew the Crystal Skull and cupped it in both hands, as afraid of the power it contained as he was of the shadows drawing closer.
As soon as he touched the Skull, he realised his mistake: every one of the horrors walking Scree’s festering streets noticed the change in the magic-laden atmosphere and turned to find him.
‘
We see you.
’ The words whispered around the cellar.
Abbot Doren whimpered and turned around wildly, trying to see whoever was speaking, but there was nothing there. The room was locked and secure; he was alone, except for the shadows.
‘
We will come for you.
’
The abbot crashed into his desk, spilling books and dirty crockery onto the floor. The Skull, its surface slick against his skin, almost slipped from his hands. Pulling it close to his chest, he tentatively drew on its power. The shadows withdrew, but not far. He could feel them lingering at the edges of his mind, and around his dilapidated home.
‘
We can wait,
’ the voice assured him with a malevolent chuckle. ‘
You are all alone now, and you cannot stay strong for ever
.’
‘Alone? No, I have Mayel,’ Abbot Doren muttered.
‘
Alone,
’ the voice continued, cold and assured, ‘
in a city of enemies, hunted, and all alone . . . all we need do is wait.
’
All through the night the abbot wept silently, hearing that soft laughter in his head. When dawn at last arrived and Mayel had still not returned, he realised the voice had been correct. He was all alone, and the darkness was waiting.
CHAPTER 20
Wakefulness crept uneasily over Mikiss, beginning with an ache behind his eyes and growing into a dull pain that reached through his skull and down his spine. Though his eyes were closed, he still tried to recoil from the light that pierced his eyelids and sparked a strange sense of fear. He tried to move, and discovered that his hands were bound behind his back and his muscles almost cried with fatigue, as though he had been running through the night. His lips were crusted and he moaned with the effort needed to breathe in the dusty sweat-laced air. Exhausted beyond belief, he slumped back down.