But mages were elected to the Julatsan Council for their skill and, with all mages finishing in a crouched position, the column was complete and perfect in less than a hundred beats of Barras’ heart.
‘Excellent,’ breathed Kerela. ‘Is everybody secure?’ No one indicated otherwise. ‘Endorr, Seldane, Deale, Torvis. You will anchor the column. On my signal we others will withdraw. Do not resist the extra burden, keep your minds open.’ She paused. ‘On my count. Withdrawing in three, two, one . . .’ Barras, Vilif, Kerela and Cordolan withdrew their hands and stood up. Barras smiled as he saw Endorr accept the rising mana stamina drain with a puff of his cheeks and nothing more. The old elf had to resist an urge to pat the young mage on his shoulder. He really was very accomplished for his age.
The four anchoring mages steadied themselves. Until the completion of the summoning, they would focus all their energies on maintaining the mana column in its perfect state. Should it breach before the summoning was complete, the forces unleashed would rip the Heart to pieces.
Kerela gazed briefly around Julatsa’s central chamber, nodding in admiration.
‘We are a strong Council,’ she said. ‘Our inevitable weakening is a tragedy for Julatsa.’ She sighed and pressed her hands together. ‘Come. Stand for the summoning. Barras, you will keep the portal open.’ Barras nodded, disappointed but not surprised at the relief he felt. As the portal guard, the demons could not take him nor risk being trapped in the killing air of Balaia.
The four mages stepped right up to the mana column, their faces scant inches from its still surface. Each mage stared directly ahead into the eyes of the mage opposite, pairing for strength. Kerela opened her mouth to speak.
‘Though I say the words, we shall all create the shape. Lend me your strength.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Heilara diun thar.’ The temperature in the room dipped. Kerela’s next words steamed from her lips. ‘Heilera diun thar, mext heiron duin thar.’ The quartet of mages plucked more mana from the air, forming a tight disc of swirling yellow shot through with blue flecks.
The disc hovered above the cylinder, spinning fast, its edges blurred.
‘Slowly,’ said Kerela. ‘Draw it gently inside the cylinder.’ With their noses touching the perfect yellow column, the disc-mages moved the disc inside, feeling its edge stir the calm of the anchored mana shape as it descended.
‘Heilera, duin, scorthos erida,’ intoned Kerela. The blue in the disc gained in intensity, deep pulses flaring along the inside of the column, shuddering the anchoring mages. Their grip remained firm.
The disc descended, Barras and the three controllers struggling to keep it horizontal and maintain its crawling pace against a force that sucked from below and gained in strength: the demons knew they were coming.
‘Steady,’ urged Kerela, her voice distant with concentration. ‘Steady. Cordolan, you are ragged.’ The disc, which had wobbled minutely, steadied immediately, the flaring inside the column violent as it dropped still further, crossing the mana candle, caressing the stone floor.
‘Barras, be ready,’ said Kerela. ‘Heilera, senduin, scorthonere an estolan.’ A black dot appeared in the centre of the disc, widening quickly. Blue mana light flowed out, expanding as the hole grew. With a snap, the disc became a thin circle of Julatsan mana, containing a flow of ferocious blue light which hammered at the apex of the Heart and spilled down the greystone segments. Whispering filled the air, taunts, demands, gentle offers laced with evil, crowding the mages with their sound. The words picked at their courage, the susurrant tone leaching through their bodies, setting skin crawling, heads spinning and drying mouths. The door to the demon dimension was open.
‘Barras, are you steady?’ asked the High Mage. Barras nodded, unable to speak. Every muscle in his body was taut, his brain felt as if it heaved in his skull, yet he knew he could maintain the door indefinitely. The forces trying to smash away his control and flood the Heart were not strong enough. His confidence escalated, his muscles began to relax, the pressure in his head easing. He smiled.
‘Yes, Kerela, I am steady. Call the Shroud Master.’
‘Aye,’ said Kerela. ‘Cordolan, Vilif, step away from the column. This is my task alone.’ The High Mage plunged her head into and through the column, burying her face in the blue demon light. Barras saw her features strain, leaving her face skull-like in the mage light. The old elven mage held the door still. Not for Julatsa but for his High Mage, for Kerela.
For her part, Julatsa’s elder mage stared full into the face of the demon gale, and with her voice as strong as the moment she had begun the spell, she spoke.
‘Heilera, duis . . . I, Kerela, High Mage of the Julatsan Council of Balaia, call you, Heila, Great One and Shroud Master. Come to me, hear our request and state your price.’
For a time, there was nothing. The whispering was unchanged, ignoring the summoning High Mage.
‘Hear me,’ said Kerela. ‘Heila, hear me.’
Abruptly, the whispering ceased.
‘I hear.’ The voice, warm and friendly, attacked the air of the Heart. The Council members started but the anchor held firm. So did the gateway.
And then He was there. Alone. Floating above the candle and rotating slowly, legs crossed, arms clasped and in his lap. And with his appearance, the column evaporated, the anchor mages waking from their reverie of concentration as the mana flow rebuilt along its natural lines.
Only Kerela stood firm, within touching distance of the Demon Shroud Master.
‘Your presence is welcome,’ she said.
‘Hardly,’ replied Heila. ‘Hardly.’ And he seemed genuinely sorry to be in their company.
Barras backed away but kept his mind firmly focused on the dimension door. To let it close would be a disaster. Before Heila’s inevitable death in an alien dimension, he could tear their souls to shreds. Around Barras, not a breath was drawn from the Council who, all but Kerela, had retreated to their wall segments. As if distance would make any difference.
In the centre of the Heart, floated the demon and the incomprehensible part of it was that, to Barras, the appearance and bearing had no evil about it. Heila was a little over four feet tall, his naked humanoid body coloured a gentle deep blue. His head was bald, embossed with pulsing veins and around his cheeks, upper lip, chin and neck, sprouted a carefully tended beard. His eyes, small and sunken, were black and as he turned past Barras and caught the mage’s eye, the elf saw all the malice they contained.
Heila’s motion stopped when he faced Kerela. He frowned, brows darting in to give his face a pinched, angry look.
‘I was resting,’ he said. ‘Tell me what you require and we will discuss a price.’
Barras shivered inwardly. That price would be the soul of one of the Council for as long as Heila wanted it.
Kerela met Heila’s eyes without flinching.
‘Our College is at risk from invasion. The enemy must not breach our walls. We require a Shroud to encircle the walls, protecting those inside and taking everyone who dares touch it. The Shroud must encompass the principal mana flow of the College which must not be lost.’
‘And for how long will this Shroud be needed?’ asked Heila.
‘Until the siege is lifted. Several weeks. We cannot be definite.’
Heila raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? Well, well.’ His rotating motion began again, his bleak eyes searching deep into the faces of the Council.
‘There is a price,’ said the demon. ‘You understand our energies are depleted by the maintenance of a Shroud. We must have fuel to replenish ourselves.’
Barras felt a cold trickle through his body. Human life reduced to fuel for a demonic conjuration. It was barbaric, hideous. It was also Julatsa’s only choice. Heila had stopped and was looking at him. He fought briefly and successfully to maintain his concentration on the portal.