The Conquest of Kiynan

After having spent a full day and night choked in fog, Kayla was relieved when, on their second day, the fog began to thin. She could still only see a few feet in any direction, but after her first day in Lethe, and her claustrophobic sea voyage, it felt as though she had been suddenly released from an arduous imprisonment. She could see the tension of the others lessen as well, all except for the Necromancers. The fog had not seemed to affect them much, and somehow Abron had never lost his sense of orientation as he led them. In fact, Kayla thought she noticed Abron and Lucia trying to take advantage of the mist to allow them a few stolen moments of privacy.

As they walked on, Kayla began to hear faint sounds in the distance, all around her. At first, they were nothing more than inarticulate murmurs. Although, as the group moved forward, they became louder and louder until Kayla could make them out as distinct whispers. The group’s anxiety mounted again, their movements becoming jerky as they glanced around themselves, expecting an ambush from any side, at any time. The whispers grew louder and more distinct as they advanced inexorably. Soon, Kayla could make out certain words, though she could not make any sense of them. The voices grew louder, until every so often, they could hear some words, not whispered, but spoken in a loud clear voice. Many of the voices sounded harsh and agitated. Kayla reflexively ducked as she heard a voice near her suddenly scream a string of curses. None of the companions spoke, fearful of alerting the speakers to their presence. As she tried to isolate one voice in particular, seeking to identify the direction of the source, she noticed something move through the haze. Although she was certain she had seen something, it did not perturb the vapour as it moved, and it vanished almost immediately. She said nothing, until Dessa noticed something too.

“What are those shapes in the mist?” she breathed anxiously to the others, clustered tightly together.

“They are ghosts,” replied Taul in a low voice, “restless spirits.”

“I saw one too,” Kayla reassured Dessa.

“How is it that these spirits are wandering in our world?” posed Travis tersely.

“The spirit world and the physical world are closely linked. Only a thin membrane keeps them separate. Something happened in Lethe, long ago, before the Ornish discovered magic, which weakened that barrier here. Novices of our order are brought close to Lethe to begin their training, as it is easier to enter the spirit world. Here, close to the heart of Lethe the veil is weaker still; the two worlds are intermingled. We may unknowingly step into the spirit world, just as curious spirits may step into our dimension,” replied Abron calmly.

“So you can speak to them, then,” said Omil uncertainly.

“Yes, as can we all, when they are in our world,” answered Lucia.

Suddenly, out of the fog ahead of them, loomed a colossal tower. Though it was still far away, and obscured by the vapours around it, it sparkled as with an internal light.

“We are entering the ruins of the great citadel of Lethe,” announced Abron, “ahead is the Crystal Tower, the only part of this citadel our ancestors did not help to construct.”

“And the only thing still standing,” added Marax with a sneer.

Marax was mistaken though. Moments later, the small group passed by an enormous statue, unlike anything any of them had ever seen; even the Necromancers seemed taken aback. The wraiths momentarily forgotten, they gawked at the enormous monument. The statue was of an asexual muscular giant, but with no face, ears or hair. Where its face should have been was one enormous circular eye, with no pupil. One of the massive arms had broken off the statue, and lay in pieces on the ground. As they walked around the broken stone near the base of the monument, Kayla noticed some flecks of blue pigment on the statue’s foot. She looked up at the giant, imagining it whole, and covered in blue.

They passed by, and through the ruins of dozens of buildings that once made up a vast city. They walked by a freestanding façade, the rest of the building lay as a pile of rubble behind it. Along the arches of the façade were five detailed engraved effigies. Kayla recognized the one-eyed giant they had just passed, peering intently at the World, which it held in its hands. Behind the giant was a baroque winged beast, holding a star in each of its eight claws. Before the giant, was a leviathan serpent, its body lined with dozens of fins of various shapes and sizes. Adjacent to the serpent was a monstrous bird with four wings, beating the air around it, creating a violent whirlwind. Beyond the bird were a score of small, imp-like creatures cavorting around each other. Kayla stared in fascination, wondering what these mythical creatures represented to the long extinct Letheans.

They continued toward the ruined citadel that lay at the city’s core. As they approached it, intermittent inhuman roars and shrieks complimented the whispering of the ghosts. The sounds brought all too vivid images of the battle at Castle Malice to Kayla’s mind. Unconsciously, the group slowed their pace. Chyryl and Dessa threw back their capes to free their hands, and Marax drew his swords.

The group followed as the Necromancers looked in every direction, their sharp grey eyes searching through the haze. Suddenly, they heard a roar, far louder and nearer than the rest had been. Bursting through the fog came a wingless thrane, its horse skull head partially covered with skin and fur. The beast swung at Thalamir who dodged nimbly, if not gracefully, out of its way. Travis stiffened and thrust his hands outward toward the monster’s feet. The demon tripped over an unseen obstacle, and fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Dessa raised her arms with a sultry flourish, and doused the malformed thrane with bright orange flames. The creature shrieked stridently as it struggled to its feet, still bathed in fire, only to have Thalamir sweep its legs out from under it with his staff. It crashed to the ground on its back, thrashed about for another instant, then lay still, its flesh peeling away from the fire.

Unperturbed, the Necromancers resumed their search. Kayla forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves. Thalamir put a protective arm around her shoulders and led her on with the magicians.

Taul raised a hand, motioning them to stop, pointing through the mist. Some distance away, Kayla could just make out what seemed like an interminable line of people. As she and her companions crept closer, she could see the forms were human slaves carrying full, heavy sacs with bones protruding. Kayla could see some groups hitched to wagons like mules, pulling them with failing strength. The wagons were laden with rotting corpses; some still wearing fragments of death shrouds, some were nothing more than dry bones. Not far from the Crystal Tower, a tall temple in the shape of a pentagon seemed to be their goal. If ever they wavered or slowed, several gols cracked long whips, encouraging them to resume their toil. The building bore effigies and inscriptions that, though incomprehensible to Kayla, had no doubt once held meaning to the temple’s users. Just outside the temple’s entrance, nearer to the wary group of magicians, Kayla could make out a figure wearing a hooded dark purple robe. The figure was directing a column of skeleton warriors out of the temple, and organizing them into ranks.

“I’ll take this one,” whispered Chyryl grimly.

The shadows around the group lashed out with long tendrils and began to coil around the Sorceress’ body. Within a moment, she was nothing more than a shadow herself.

“Wait,” Abron ordered quietly. “Remember Castle Malice. Your presence will still be obvious to the demons, and the Conjurers are demons themselves now: spirits possessing stolen flesh. You cannot surprise them that way.”

The shadows melted away, and Kayla could not believe that despite what her eyes had shown her, Chyryl had not moved. A sheepish look formed on the Sorceress’ face and she looked to Abron for guidance.

Abron looked at Kayla, his face expressing nothing but patience, but Kayla knew he was asking her for action. With a deep steadying breath she turned to stare at the Conjurer, and closed her eyes. She ridded her mind of everything but calmness, and projected her thoughts forward, beyond her companions, beyond the skeletal demons, focusing on the Conjurer, seeking to reach as deeply into his mind as she could manage. As she pierced his surface thoughts, she managed to make her mouth whisper a signal to her companions before feeling herself engulfed in another world. She was vaguely aware of the sounds of motion around her.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself on the same hill, but devoid of mist and bathed in sunlight. Her body felt light, almost weightless. She rose to her feet without effort. As she moved, she felt no air brush against her skin, and yet she felt a cool, refreshing sensation all over. Awareness spread through her consciousness that she was fully immersed in another person’s mind. Her companions were not with her, nor were the demons or the slaves. She was alone… except for a nearby presence.

“I thought the world was rid of your kind, long ago,” said a strong booming voice behind her.

“Most magicians thought the same of your kind, Danyul,” replied Kayla, sudden, complete knowledge of her adversary coursing into her mind.

She turned to see a tall man, whose long black hair hung down to his shoulders, partially obscuring his face, which was crisscrossed with thin scars from an injury he had suffered from a wildcat when he was a boy. Danyul’s stance was uneasy, his back curved, and his hands unsteady.

Remembering Abron’s words, she concentrated on her task. She must absolutely keep the Conjurer occupied to protect her friends in the physical world, which meant remaining calm no matter what came. She must also try to soothe and drain his emotions so that his spirit would be weak when it returned to the land of the dead. Thus Danyul’s essence would fade away rather than becoming stronger and ready to be summoned back to the physical world by Daimin.

She raised herself above the ground, which she could still not accomplish in the real world, but here, it came easily. Kayla watched her adversary’s eyes widen in fear. His pupils dilated and his breathing became laboured. She concentrated on her knowledge of Danyul’s mind, looking for information she could use. His father had been a woodsman. Kayla could picture Danyul’s memories of exploring the woods around his home, and could sense the feeling of comfort and serenity those trees gave him. Focusing her thoughts, Kayla caused a forest to spring up around Danyul, filling the air with the many scents and sounds that went with it.

“I won’t be sent back to the cursed spirit world, Augur. I won’t go back!”

“Fear not Danyul,” Kayla began, floating angelically toward the Conjurer. “Breathe deeply of the forest air. You will never have to return to the grey and lifeless spirit world. I will free you from it.”

For a moment, it seemed to Kayla that she was succeeding, but the moment passed and Danyul shouted scornfully at her.

“I will not be fooled by your feeble tricks!”

As he shouted his eyes blazed a dark purple, and a black wind surrounded him and shot toward Kayla. She was violently spun around where she floated, losing all sense of orientation. She struggled to right herself, but suddenly collided hard with the ground. She gasped for air, feeling as though her lungs had collapsed. She looked up to see Danyul’s expression changing from contempt to surprise.

“You’re nothing but a novice,” he remarked, his voice glistening with cold glee.

He laughed a cold booming laugh that filled Kayla’s entire being, shaking her to the core. He began to grow in stature, towering a hundred feet over her. A cyclone of black wind enveloped him again, energy surging from every corner of the world. Cold winds buffeted Kayla from every direction. As she stared up at the giant before her, his cackling ringing in her ears, she felt fear creeping into her mind. She felt herself weakening as she began to lose her calm. Suddenly, Danyul’s laughter ceased. For a brief moment, he returned to his normal size, the black wind gone and he regarded Kayla in silence, a look of agony on his face while blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Then, the world was a blur and Kayla was back in her own body. She remained some distance away from where Danyul lay crumpled on the ground, buried under his mauve robe, Marax standing over him with his blades in hand.

With a fanfare of snarls and shrieks, dozens of demons and semi-possessed beasts charged at the magicians. Chaos erupted. The demon slave drivers bellowed in rage. The slaves, seeing a chance at freedom, broke in all directions. Some fled for their lives, others leapt at their captors, brandishing bones and their heavy sacs as clubs. Marax hacked and slashed at an attacking gol, while Travis began forming protective barriers around the entrance to the temple. Taul produced an axe from under his robe and, throwing back his hood, he stood beside Travis chopping imps and skeletons as they squeezed past and leapt over the incomplete barriers. Omil caused the sparse moss to grow into tall, thick bushes, which Dessa ignited to form a smoking wall of flame.

“Quickly! Into the temple while they hold the demons off,” shouted Abron to the others.

Marax, Travis, Dessa and Taul formed a defensive arc around the doorway, facing the disorganized horde coming toward them from every direction. Kayla shied away from the heat of the wall of flame. Struggling to maintain her calm, she followed Abron and Lucia through the doorway, Thalamir, Omil and Chyryl close on her heels. Through the doorway lay a narrow corridor, ending in a short staircase leading into a large antechamber. As the group ran down the corridor, the sounds of the battle outside diminished. Her confidence growing, Kayla took the lead, passing through the barren antechamber and emerging into a vast pentagonal room. In every corner was a niche housing a statue stretching from floor to ceiling, surrounded by burning torches. Kayla recognized the figures that she had noticed on the ruined façade. There was the cyclopean giant, the star-carrying beast, the leviathan serpent, the monstrous bird and the small, imp-like creatures standing on each other’s shoulders. In the centre of the chamber, was a deep pit, with a long ramp extending to its bottom. Two magicians, dressed in the same mauve robes Danyul had worn, with their hoods drawn over their heads, stood upon the lip of the pit. A pair of slaves stood at the top of the ramp, staring into it, trembling visibly. The Conjurers, their arms raised over the pit below them, failed to notice Kayla as she entered the room, their attention absorbed by what lay in the pit. Kayla lost no time; carelessly choosing one of the two Conjurers, she closed her eyes and projected her mind forward.

She found herself on a rocky beach, staring out at the Restless Sea. Behind her was a small cabin, where Emander, the son of a humble fisherman had been raised. She turned to face the Conjurer, raising herself above the ground again.

“No! Impossible! Daimin told us Augurs were no more!”

“Daimin was wrong, Emander,” Kayla proclaimed confidently.

Abandoning the failed approach she had used against Danyul, this time Kayla focused on charging herself with calm. A light breeze from the sea stirred her long golden hair as her eyes began to glow a faint azure. Emander took a panicked step backward, tripping over a rock and falling on his back. As he cowered before her, Kayla projected her emotions outward, enveloping his mind. She watched as his features began to relax, the fear fading from his eyes. He struggled to stand for a moment, but gave up and sat quietly on the ground. Emander looked out over the sea, Kayla’s calm permeating him. Now, she pulled back on her emotions, pulling them from him, leaving him with nothing. His eyes turned away from the sea and came to rest on Kayla’s beautiful young face. She watched him carefully, observing the bland expression on his face.

Kayla floated quietly for another moment as Emander sat perfectly still before her. The world blurred then and Kayla found herself on her knees in the chamber. Emander’s body lay face up on the temple floor, a gaping crack in his forehead. As she glanced at Emander’s unfortunate face, she saw that it was little more than a skull covered with patches of sallow flesh. One eye seemed almost normal, albeit heavily shot with blood, but the other was a shrunken white ball of jelly, misaligned in its socket. Daimin had reserved the right to possess living flesh to himself. Kayla felt surprise for a moment as she remembered watching Daimin posses a living man. The man’s name had been Klyst… Klyst the Grey. She could remember it almost as though she had experienced it.

Her mind snapped back to the present as Thalamir twirled his quarterstaff, and stepped away from Emander’s remains. The other Conjurer glanced in surprise at her attackers as they closed in on her. Kayla saw the woman smile as she raised her arms.

“Enjoy our latest creation!” she cackled.

A bass guttural roar sprung from the bowels of the pit, and the two slaves at the top of the ramp screamed as a thick tentacle wrapped around them, dragging them down. Kayla watched in horror as a colossal worm rose from the pit. Its head bore a single slit of an eye, and two enormous circular jaws lined with rotten, broken teeth. Dozens of tentacles writhed out from its long slimy body. The slaves were thrown into one of the gaping jaws, and as one mouth closed to chew, the other bellowed again, spraying bits of human blood and flesh.

Closing her eyes, as much to remove the horror from her vision as to force herself to concentrate, she projected her mind outward again, seeking the last of Daimin’s disciples.

Banakel’s mind-world was muddy, uneven soil choked with mist. The Conjuress herself stood directly before Kayla, her hands on her hips, her purple hood thrown back. Never one to fear or avoid a fight, Banakel showed none of the anxiety Emander and Danyul had shown.

“No wonder Daimin overlooked you. You’re nothing but a pitiful child.”

Despite her success against Emander, Kayla felt uncertain facing the bold woman. She levitated herself once again, carefully strengthening her confidence. She magnified her voice, filling the air with soothing tones as she spoke.

“You do not belong in this world anymore, Banakel. Emander and Danyul are gone. It is your turn to follow them. You are finished with the physical world and there will be no way back this time.”

Banakel extended her arm, which grew rapidly stretching the distance between herself and Kayla in an instant. She grabbed Kayla by the throat, choking her, and reeled her back. She held her just before her face, her grip tightening.

“There is always a way back,” she whispered fiercely, “but I won’t be needing it, because you are no danger to me.”

Kayla could not breathe. Bright splotches formed before her eyes and her vision failed. Her mind instinctively filled with panic as she clawed at Banakel’s fingers. She felt herself reeling, dizzied. She could hear the roaring of the monstrous worm again, and shouting from the other magicians.

Suddenly, strong hands gripped her by the shoulders and gently shook her. She opened her eyes and the room slowly came into focus. Thalamir’s face hovered over her, a look of despair in his eyes. Kayla glanced around the room, and saw Omil and Abron running toward Banakel brandishing their swords, while Chyryl and Lucia tried to distract the monstrous worm. Kayla struggled to her feet, watching Banakel as she raised her arms, seeming to chant. Suddenly, Omil screamed and staggered, clutching his head. After an instant, he straightened and tackled Abron, bringing him to the ground. Seeing this, Lucia immediately ran to Abron’s aid. Kayla saw Banakel retreat down a corridor at the other end of the chamber.

The worm beast bellowed after receiving an icy blast from Chyryl. The sound shook the room, bringing showers of dust down from the ceiling. Still howling, the creature’s tentacles gathered around the pit’s edge. The ground shook as the beast attempted to raise its bulk out of the imprisoning pit. Kayla watched the demon struggle against its own weight, transfixed with horror.

Marax and Taul ran into the chamber, both bleeding from numerous minor wounds. Just behind them came Travis and Dessa. The Enchantress walked backwards into the room, projecting a cone of flame toward the entrance they had come in through. Braving the searing blast came a charging gol, his body aflame. Behind him a dozen skeletons and imps squeezed into the chamber.

Looking past the beast, to the edge of the pit, Kayla saw Abron and Lucia struggling against Omil. He fought with his bare hands, swinging them as though they were claws. The Necromancers kept him at bay with their swords while backing away from him toward the rear exit.

“Kayla! We have to go after that Conjuress! We can’t let her get away!” Thalamir screamed.

Snapping out of her trance, Kayla ran along the edge of the pit opposite where Lucia and Abron had gone. She ducked under one of the worm’s swinging tentacles, leapt over another and danced away just in time to avoid one of the thick sinewy cords’ convulsions. She reached the rear of the chamber, and quickly headed down the corridor she had seen Banakel take. The corridor was short, leading to a sealed doorway. As she ran toward it, Marax brushed past her and slammed his shoulder into the heavy double doors. They burst open and Marax tumbled through them. As Kayla made it outside, Thalamir was at her side and Chyryl was close behind.

Banakel was waiting for them, surrounded by a snarling pack of misshapen demonic minions.

“Destroy them!” the Conjuress shrieked.

The demons surged toward them like a wave of gnashing claws and fangs. Abron, Lucia and Dessa emerged through the broken doors just as the wave struck them.

“Into the Tower!” screamed Abron, ducking under a one-armed gol’s swinging fist.

The diminished group immediately broke and made for the glowing Crystal Tower. Although the tower was adjacent to the temple, it seemed to Kayla that it was not growing any closer despite her running with all her strength. Chyryl and Dessa turned and released an emotional torrent, freezing and scorching the lead row of monsters. Two skeletons shattered with cold, and a gol collapsed, its malformed left leg devoured by flames. Chyryl covered the ground behind the fleeing group with slippery ice. The creatures hesitated for a moment before resuming their enraged pursuit, struggling uncertainly along on the frozen ground. Three imps bounded on top of their larger brethren and leapt into the midst of the fleeing magicians.

Thalamir batted one imp out of Kayla’s path as it prepared to pounce on her, and Marax hacked another one in two. The third clung to Chyryl’s back until Abron stabbed it with his sword and pried it off. Finally, the magicians made it to the foot of the Crystal Tower and rushed through the sparkling doorway. As soon as they were inside, they turned, shoulder-to-shoulder, ready to face their twisted pursuers. But the demons stopped. They waited outside the doorway cackling and shrieking at them, but not one tried to pass the threshold.

“They can’t enter here,” said Lucia breathlessly.

They glanced around themselves, ensuring that no greater evil lurked behind them. Chyryl collapsed to her knees, and Kayla shivered, watching the churning pack of creatures itching to tear them to pieces.

Although no light from the Sun illuminated this city, the Tower was lit as bright as day. Kayla looked up and around herself. The Tower was conical, the diameter of its base just slightly greater than that of its roof. The room they stood in occupied the entire base of the tower. Above them, a high roof divided the lower and higher floor, but Kayla could see right through it. Although they appeared slightly distorted, she could see straight through all the levels above her to the stars overhead. Through some clever design, the starlight was amplified by the reflective outer walls and glassy inner walls and floors, illuminating the entire Tower.

“Kayla!” Abron grabbed her by her shoulders and bent down to stare her levelly in the eyes. “Kayla, we cannot let that Conjuress escape, no matter the cost, do you understand?” his voice was urgent, but without a trace of panic.

“I know what I need to do,” she replied, “but…”

“You can’t hide in there forever!” came a voice from outside. It was slurred and animalistic, but still recognizable as Omil’s.

Chyryl’s head snapped up, her face awash in black light, her eyes glacial. A long moment passed, then Omil’s possessed voice rang out again.

“Why do you hide from me? Do you not still love your friendly Druid?” he taunted, “How I long for your company! Especially my beautiful Chyryl…”

The Sorceress wailed, a high-pitched scream ripe with seething rancour. She leapt to her feet, raising her hands, palms facing the doorway. She ran at the mass of demons, the air before her freezing into a veritable blizzard. Foot long icicles riddled a thrane in the front row, while two skeletons were encased in a thick veneer of ice. Marax took up the battle cry and charged behind the Sorceress. Dessa followed, building her emotions internally. Abron and Lucia looked at Kayla.

Strengthening her resolve, she chased after the other magicians, flanked by Thalamir and the two Necromancers. Outside the Tower, Chyryl lay atop of Omil, still shrieking as her fingers dug into his throat. Marax and Dessa were wrecking havoc, clearing a path straight through the enemies. Kayla ran as hard as she could through the rift. A skeleton suddenly appeared in Kayla’s path, brandishing a spear. Thalamir leapt in front of her, whirling his staff, knocking aside its spear and smashing its head off with one smooth motion. Kayla ran past her guardian, only to face a gol raising a heavy rock to crush her. Thalamir and Abron threw themselves against the creature’s massive body simultaneously, causing it to stumble and drop its weapon behind its back. Quickly recovering, the gol shoved the two men away, sending them skidding in the dirt. Lucia lunged at the beast, stabbing it in the knee. Kayla seized the opportunity to squeeze past the monster.

Kayla emerged from among the demons and found Banakel waiting for her. As with Daimin’s other two resurrected servants, Banakel had not had the luxury Daimin had enjoyed of possessing living flesh when she returned from her exile in the spirit world. As a result, her new body was made up of an assortment of rotting bone and tissue salvaged from corpses stolen from the earth where they were buried. Most of her face was solidly held in place, but just below her right eye, the skin folded away to reveal the yellowed bone beneath it. A half-grin twisted her bloated lips, revealing a few fissured, black teeth.

“It seems you are left to face me alone, child.”

Kayla glanced behind her, and could just barely see Thalamir and the two Necromancers fending off five opponents closing on them from every side. She turned back to face the Conjuress, no doubt her uncertainty painted clearly across her face. Banakel cackled, causing the skin on her throat to loosen and slip. Kayla closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, blocking all sounds from her mind and concentrating on calmness. She attacked Banakel’s mind again.

This time, she found herself on a plain of battle. A strong wind, reeking of rot and blood, tugged at every part of her, as though urging her to leave. Bubbling springs heaved hissing liquid into the air at intervals, and all around, strange creatures moved about. They were similar to the demons she had seen in the physical world, but they were more graceful, their bodies seemed more natural, more whole. They were not constructed of decaying flesh, but rather seemed alive, and even healthy. The creatures began a rumbling, rhythmic chant. Although they sang in some incomprehensible language, their tone delivered a clear enough message to Kayla: they meant her harm. As the chanting grew louder, they formed into ranks. The army of monsters grew until their battle lines stretched from horizon to horizon. The chanting mounted in volume until Kayla was awash in the sound. Banakel appeared, hovering over the legions of demons. Her body was whole here, no doubt appearing the way she pictured herself at the height of her beauty. Her black hair reached all the way to her waist, and was blown in every direction by the fierce winds.

Abandoning the idea of weakening Banakel’s emotions, Kayla resolved simply to remain calm and keep Banakel occupied as long as necessary. Her last failure had cost Omil his life and she did not want to lose another friend.

“You caught me by surprise earlier. Now that I’ve had a little warning, I’ve prepared a proper reception for you,” she said, gesturing to the seething masses of creatures below her.

“I know you are trying to frighten me, Banakel,” she thought to herself. “If I become afraid, I cannot occupy your mind, and you’ll be free to summon demon spirits to possess my friends. You may be more powerful than I, but I do not need to defeat you. I have friends coming to cut you down. Your minions won’t be able to hold them back long enough to save you.” Out loud she added: “These creatures are not real, and I will not be frightened.”

“These may be figments of my imagination, child,” the Conjuress returned icily, “but they can still hurt you, very badly. Frightening you is not the only way to get you out of my mind; it is not even my preferred method. Instead, I will use PAIN!”

Without any noticeable command from Banakel, the creatures surged forward in unison, abandoning their dark chant and shrieking discordantly. Startled, Kayla flew backward in retreat.

“Think, Kayla,” she told herself, “you can do anything here. So do something! Oh, I wish Thalamir were here.”

Halting her retreat, she raised her arms, presenting her palms to the approaching creatures. Concentrating for a moment, she erected a tall wall of stone in their path.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Banakel, if you want—” Kayla broke off as she heard pounding on the wall and saw a long fissure appear.

An instant later, a huge fist broke through, followed by a dozen others. Moments later, the wall was riddled with holes and fissures. The demons roared with renewed vigour as the wall collapsed into a cloud of stone dust.

Straining, Kayla raised thousands of sharp stone spikes from the ground, and sent them hurtling at the creatures. The missiles found their marks, piercing hundreds of demons, but they did not even falter for a moment as they closed on her. Kayla soared higher, but a demon jumped up at her, trying to grab her. Three more demons leapt impossibly high, but Kayla managed to just avoid their grasping claws. She heard Banakel let out a strangled scream of frustration.

“You’re not getting away that easily!”

Suddenly, a dozen winged thranes were surrounding her and clawing at her. She managed to dodge a blow, but felt sharp claws rake across her head, abdomen and legs. The pain seared through her body, and she felt panic clouding her mind. Struggling to remain calm, she closed her eyes and tried to block out the pain.

“This is not real. I am imagining the pain. I can ignore it. I must not loose my concentration, I must keep Banakel here, occupied. I must…” she screamed despite herself as heavy jaws closed on her leg.

She felt the teeth ripping through her flesh, biting into bone. She fought to remain calm, but felt excruciating pain as another set of jaws close around her throat. Instantly, she lost awareness, falling into an inky pool of darkness. She felt adrift, lost in limbo. The memory of pain still filled her mind, and she began to cry. She had failed. Banakel was free, and her friends were in danger. She struggled to overcome the pain, to regain self-control, but in the end, all she could do was cry.

An eternity passed. Finally, the blackness slowly began to recede, and Kayla felt strong arms pull her to her feet.

“We have to get out of here, now,” came Thalamir’s voice, strong but even as always.

“What about Banakel?”

“The Conjuress is dead. We have to escape.”

She felt herself lifted onto his shoulder and felt his body shake as he ran. Gradually, she became aware of sounds around her. Her vision was still blurred, but she could tell she was looking at Thalamir’s back. She could distinguish the sounds now. She heard the shrieking and screaming of demons, and a bass roaring over it all. The noise was diminishing, and Kayla guessed she was being carried away from the battle. They ran for some time, through thickening fog. Her senses returned, but there was nothing to see but grey, nothing to hear but the sound of running feet and heavy breathing, and nothing to smell but rot.

Thalamir’s pace slowed and stopped. He laid Kayla on the cold, damp ground, and examined her. She smiled up at him, seeing the concern across his face. He seemed to relax, but his expression remained serious. She noticed two narrow streams of blood running down Thalamir’s neck. She sat up and examined the wound more closely, observing numerous teeth marks.

“You’re hurt!” she exclaimed.

“From an imp,” he said as she touched the wound. “And this,” he added, clutching his side, “was from a thrane fist.”

He winced as she touched his ribs. She looked worriedly at him.

“I think I made out pretty well, considering we were outnumbered,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Where are the others?” asked Kayla.

Thalamir’s anxious expression returned, as he looked behind Kayla. She followed his gaze and turned around, seeing Taul carrying someone over his shoulder. She looked around and saw no one else. Taul knelt and laid the figure near Kayla. It was Travis, his face contorted in silent pain, and his body twitching. Immediately, she knew with sickening certainty that he was not suffering from a physical wound.