A moment later, the trees faded away as the next spell began, and this time Andrew failed in the first couple of words of his casting. The others managed it, though they looked like they were concentrating heavily as they conjured a dense fog around themselves, just misty enough that they could barely be seen through it, with Andrew catching up moments later. A surge of wind blew outward from each of them, throwing the mist into the sky as it ruffled Marin’s dress and hair, and she nodded in approval.
“Three left,” Elladan murmured in interest. From his tone, Marin suspected that he didn’t realize he’d said anything.
The next spell was slower than the others had been, and from the sandy earth in front of each, a pillar of packed dirt slowly rose almost three feet before expanding outward to create a bowl. Again, the appearance varied slightly based on the caster, but the differences were mostly in how tall the pillar was and the size of the bowl. Marin was almost surprised when Emonael paused to let the others catch their breath, and for Andrew to fully catch up before starting on her next spell. Her apprentice’s movements and words were smooth, almost perfect, and Marin couldn’t help but envy the speed with which all of them could cast spells. It was an old envy, though, and not a serious one. Gods knew that she’d wished for the ability to channel mana properly for most of her life, and it wasn’t going to change now.
One after another, brilliant crimson flames ignited in the bowls. Nia’s flame burned the hottest and largest, while Andrew’s was relatively small, even when compared to the other four, but they all cast shadows quite well. The last spell was the most uneven across the group, with only Emonael and Uthar completing it on the first attempt, and poor flustered Damiya taking a full three attempts, but as each of them finished their spells, their own shadows danced and moved about them, even defying the flames to move all the way around the caster before settling back down again.
“Most fascinating!” Elladan exclaimed, grinning and nodding at the flames. “I do have to ask, why was it that some of the flames were larger than the others?”
“It’s a question of mana and talent, Your Majesty,” Emonael replied, relief apparent in her manners as she nodded at Nia. “Nia has an incredible talent for magic and powerful mana reserves, so her fire burns brighter, in part because she hasn’t learned to rein it in yet. Something that Marin discovered was that adding additional mana to a spell can help . . . fill in the gaps of mistakes to some degree, so the more precise the spell, the less mana it actually requires. This allows more of the mana to actually fuel the spell itself, and thus, just like with an actual fire, results in a hotter, larger fire. Thus the flame Nia produced.”
Marin nodded at the explanation, smiling gently at the knowledge that Emonael had picked things up so well. Just as Elladan was going to ask another question, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t have time to react, but the king’s guard reacted instantly.
“’Ware arrows!” the guard bellowed, just as something slammed into Marin’s side with a harsh impact, almost knocking her to the ground.
The pain spiking through Marin was potent, but one which she’d experienced before, so it didn’t incapacitate her. A pair of arrows had just barely missed Elladan, she realized, and only because his bodyguard had tackled him out of the way. She hadn’t been as fortunate as him. Two of the guards around the perimeter were down on the far side of the clearing, and her breath caught as black figures poured out of the woods.
Nearly three dozen strong, the figures were beings from nightmares. Chitinous bodies were topped by demon-horned heads that were half gaping maws full of black fangs. Several of the creatures had strange black bows in their hands, but the majority carried sinister, serrated swords as they lunged forward across the field, howling unearthly battle cries.
Marin suffered a moment of indecision, torn between casting a spell, calling a retreat into the tower, or any of a half dozen other actions, her mind whirring uncertainly through the possibilities. In the moments that she was frozen with shock, Emonael reacted.
“Shields!” Emonael snapped, forcing action from her students, even as the king’s guards tried to organize against the assaulting force. Emonael’s own shield snapped up, a brilliant white barrier of light that shimmered in the afternoon sun, and was quickly joined by several more barriers as her students cast their spells. A strangely distracted part of Marin’s mind wondered why they were so proficient in shields, of all things?
“Damiya, fireballs! Andrew, Nia, shield the king! Chris, Uthar, shield the guards!” Emonael continued her orders, pausing just a moment as she glared at Marin. “Teacher, they’re demons! Banish them!”
“Oh, r-right,” Marin gasped, looking down at her side and wincing at the sight of blood soaking her dress. The silk had caught the arrow and blood, and effectively formed a primitive bandage. It’d have to do for the moment, so she straightened, stepping behind one of the others as she brought to mind one of her mass banishment spells, thankful that the amulet she’d given Emonael would protect her student from this as well. Without further ado, Marin began to cast her spell, trying to hurry as much as she could, but knowing that it’d take an agonizingly long time.
As she watched, the battle was joined in truth. Arrows bounced off the shields that Emonael and her students had raised, then the demonic archers abandoned their bows, rushing forward to join their fellows as they engaged the outnumbered Royal Guard in battle. The guard didn’t fall back under the assault, their teamwork impeccable as each jumped into the battle to cover one another’s backs. Emonael and Damiya each began throwing bolts of explosive fire into the mass of demons, but still more emerged from the woods, and what came after that almost caused Marin to lose her spell when combined with her injury.
Several of the following demons fell upon the guards who’d been cut down in the opening assault, and at least one of them hadn’t been killed in the attack. His scream as they tore into him with claws and fangs was terrible, but Marin fought down the nausea it prompted to continue her spell.
Mana spilled out of her and into the intricate weave she was spinning as fast as it could, but it wasn’t quite fast enough. One guard fell, then another, as the defenders were forced back, and the monsters were looming, on the verge of falling on Emonael and Damiya. The defenders couldn’t protect their flanks as well, and the monsters were starting to spill around them. In desperation, Marin broke off the chant of the remainder of her spell, raising her eyes to the sky as she called out to her god.
“Balvess, Hear My Prayer and Banish the Darkness from this Place!” Marin cried out, and a surge of mana and power flooded into her in response. The spell, woven just a bit too slowly before, suddenly surged to completion, appearing as a golden light held in both of her hands.
Marin slammed the light into the ground, and it exploded outward in a golden wave that rushed around her allies and crashed into the demons. The demons screamed as the light hit them, their bodies disintegrating under the powerful spell as they were sent back to the lower planes, one after another, until none of them were left.
“Gods above . . .” one of the nearby soldiers gasped, staring at Marin, but she simply hissed, reaching down to yank out the arrow in her side. As the blood began to flow again, she forced herself to ignore the pain as she cast her healing spell, sealing the wound. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d suffice until she could treat it properly.
“The gods help those who help themselves. Tend to the wounded, and try to keep those who aren’t dead yet from that door.” Marin snapped in response, moving toward the nearest fallen soldier as she added. “If they’re alive, I can heal them. I’m a healer, not a miracle worker.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” another soldier muttered, but Marin ignored him, and the other skeptical looks. Fortunately, everyone followed her directions, or Marin might’ve lost her temper.
Things were bad enough as it was, and the anger on Elladan’s face showed that this wasn’t finished.
> “What happened, Captain?” King Elladan asked, his voice not quite freezing the air.
Captain Sodan swallowed before speaking, and Emonael couldn’t blame his nervousness. She was just thankful that Marin’s spell had avoided her, considering that it was divinely inspired.
“With your visit, we doubled the number of patrols, Your Majesty,” Sodan explained, his back straight as a ruler. “Unfortunately, somehow the attacking force managed to ambush one of the patrols, and to do so without allowing them to raise the alarm. It was obviously a pitched battle, so the only explanation I’ve been able to come up with so far is that the opponent silenced their horns.”
“Not impossible, but such a spell requires a certain grasp of air magic,” High Mage Larin interjected, looking very unhappy. “Coupled with the aspect of demons being sent against the Association and yourself, this bodes ill, Your Majesty.”
“I’m quite well aware of that,” King Elladan snapped, glowering at Larin and taking a deep breath. “It’s also obvious they were trying to kill Marin as well, as both she and I were targeted in the initial volley. Had they been closer, they very well may have succeeded in their aim, and that would have been a disaster!”
“I hate to suggest it, Your Majesty, but do you believe that Tethlyn might be behind this?” the Captain of the Royal Guard, a dour-looking man named Gavin, interjected. “We’ve had enough difficulties with them of late that I believe they are a likely perpetrator.”
When the king looked at the magi, Hothar cleared his throat and shook his head. “I doubt that. Summoning even one demon requires a large degree of skill, and I’ve received word that the only person with such skill in Tethlyn perished last summer due to one of his own experiments gone awry. We may be dealing with a renegade cult of magi who want to steal the research. Or worse, hirelings of Tethlyn.”
“Lovely,” Elladan muttered, and scowled as he looked around the table at all those present. “I want you to investigate this attack to the best of your abilities. This was very nearly disastrous, and if you can track down those who performed it, do so! Captain Sodan, I’ll reinforce you with some of the war magi, but use them wisely.”
Turning to Emonael, Elladan’s frown softened and he asked, “Magister Emonael, how is Marin?”
“She’s as well as she can be, after being injured and expending the vast majority of her mana, Your Majesty,” Emonael replied, nodding to him. “I put her to bed afterward, but . . . I am not certain how many more times she can perform healing on such a scale. It’s hard on her body these days.”
“I understand. She saved all of us, and her healing kept seven men from death’s door. Your own actions were superb as well,” Elladan told Emonael, and took a deep breath before nodding. “Everyone, you have your directions. Continue your work out here. I’ll do my best to support it. In the meantime, I had best return to the capital before rumors have me on my deathbed, and war breaks out because of it.”
Emonael nodded, murmuring, “Of course, Your Majesty.”
Privately, she couldn’t help but wonder about things herself. Like Hothar had said, summoning demons was tricky at best, so where had anyone gotten that many legion demons?
Chapter 27
“I’m sorry about your dress, Teacher,” Emonael’s voice interrupted Marin, and she blinked, looking up from the book she’d been reading.
“It was damaged and stained, not destroyed. Why would you be sorry?” Marin asked, considering the passage she’d been reading one more time before carefully shelving the volume. “I may not have a spell to repair it and get out the blood just yet, but I’m certain we could come up with one if we wanted to.”
She’d slept deeply the night before, and she was still tired, despite sleeping in. The amount of mana that Marin had expended couldn’t be recovered in a single night, and there was still a small amount of damage from the arrow that she hadn’t healed, but Marin felt well enough to continue working.
“I suppose so, it just . . . it seemed important to you, Teacher. Are you sure that it’s fine?” Emonael asked, stepping into the room hesitantly, shutting the door behind her. “Also, thank you.”
“It’s just a dress. A beautiful dress, admittedly, but only clothing. I would give it in a heartbeat to bring back those who died, but . . . at present, restoring the souls of the dead is beyond me. It always has been,” Marin murmured sadly, shaking her head. “I wonder why it’s only the priests of gods who can restore the dead to life, if they reach them quickly enough? Still, why do you thank me? You’re the one who reacted quickly enough to save everyone. I didn’t react well at all. I froze in indecision.”
“I’m a demon, and you didn’t banish me along with all of those legion demons,” Emonael replied, shaking her head. “That can’t have been easy.”
“Ah, but it was,” Marin replied, and gestured Emonael over, asking. “The amulet, please?”
“The amulet? Oh, the one you keyed to your wards!” Her student smiled, pulling out the brass chain and the carefully engraved oval amulet hanging from it. “I almost forget about it, much of the time.”
“Of course you do. You’re supposed to forget about it,” Marin replied absently, tapping the outer engravings. “These are dwarven runes, a form of their enchantments. They cause the amulet to slip from the mind, unless the item is particularly important to you. However, I also hid something inside the amulet. One moment . . .”
She whispered the words of her spell, letting her magic unhook the clasps within the amulet, and as it opened a brilliant emerald light filled the room. Marin smiled, nodding as she murmured, “Good, still working as intended.”
The glittering spell-form within the amulet didn’t have any physical aspects, yet it was completely visible, which was unusual in its own right. Emonael blinked, and asked incredulously, “Teacher, what in the world is that? I can feel . . . is that an illusion at its core? And something else . . .”
“Yes, it’s an illusion. Do you truly think that I could craft wards around my tower that allow you to come and go freely, yet which still could affect other demons, or other intruders? They’d be going off constantly. Even the other High Magi need to use temporary, single-use tokens to breach my wards without incident. Not that the wards could stop them, mind . . . not unless I used the final barriers.” Marin said, shaking her head. “No, I placed a tiny fragment of my soul into this amulet, Emonael. The spell around the shard amplifies the fragment, sustaining it and projecting the ‘illusion’ that you’re a mortal to everyone else.”
“That’s . . . why would you take off a fragment of your soul like that? And how do you even keep the spell powered? It should’ve worn out months ago!” Emonael protested.
“You know better than I do that souls regenerate just fine, so long as the piece taken is small enough. You’re a succubus, that’s how you feed!” Marin scolded, shaking her head. “As to the spell, it draws a little power from my wards every time you pass through them. It’s because of my soul fragment that you weren’t banished, I believe.”
“Why would you give me this? I mean, I could use this to cast spells on you that could bypass your wards!” Emonael murmured, her eyes growing speculative.
“Or I could cast on you in return. You didn’t think it was that important, and didn’t know about it, Emonael. The dwarven runes were there for a damned good reason,” Marin explained tartly, shaking her head, then closing the amulet again and sealing it. “So now you know why I’ve been confident no one was going to figure out what you are.”
“Teacher . . . when you have time to plan things out, I think you’re as conniving as a demon,” Emonael murmured, looking at the amulet in obvious admiration before slipping it back around her neck.
“I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” Marin said, her feelings somewhat mixed as she considered the statement. She didn’t like to think of herself as conniving, she preferred thinking of it as planning ahead, but she couldn’t honestly refute Emonael’s words.
&nbs
p; “It was meant as one. I’m a mistress of illusions, and I didn’t detect it,” Emonael said, and smirked as she added. “But now that I know what it is, I can even use it to keep track of your health, Teacher! No matter how far removed it might be, your soul fragment is still part of you. And speaking of souls, I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered my offer?”
Marin rejected her student again. “No. Unless you missed it somehow, Balvess chose to aid me in casting the banishment, otherwise we’d have lost several more people, possibly including Christoff, Damiya, or Uthar. I’m not going to betray His trust, and you should know that by now.”
Emonael shrugged, changing the subject, her voice showing worry now. “With that in mind, I know you weren’t at the meeting yesterday, but something came up. Do you know of anyone who can reliably summon that many demons?”
“I’ve only known two summoners in my life, and neither were the type to summon demons. They claimed that it was a quick way to end up in an early grave,” Marin told her student, walking over to her chair to sit down. “I’m trying to decide what possibility is worse, that someone successfully called forth that many demons, or that you might have a rival trying to gain that title you told me about.”
“Neither is a thought that makes me happy, but I sincerely doubt that we’ve got a demon trying to grab your knowledge,” Emonael said.
“Oh? Why’s that?” Marin asked curiously.
“You probably forgot, but before we left for Port Tarth, we had a discussion on it. Demons who aren’t particularly powerful can’t interfere in the mortal world of their own volition, at least not for long,” Emonael explained. “Now, it is possible that some summoner struck a bargain with a demon for the assistance of their forces, which would be ugly, but we could deal with it. Once the demon is banished, they can’t pretend to still be acting under the summoner’s orders. It doesn’t keep the summoner from trying again, but it’s . . . something of a loophole, I suppose.”
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