'Torvis is anxious to join a new dimension,' he said. 'We should begin at once.'

'I had to offer the chance,' said Kerela.

'I know,' said Barras. 'We all know.' He smiled. 'Lead us, Kerela.'

The High Mage breathed deep, taking in the Council once more.

'To you who sacrifices their life to save this College and the magics of Julatsa, may you quickly find peace and the souls of your loved ones.' She paused. 'Follow my words closely. Do not deviate from my instructions. Let nothing but my voice deflect you from your concentration. Now.' And her tone hardened, taking on total authority. 'Place your palms on the greystone behind you and accept the mana spectrum into your eyes.'

Barras pressed his hands to the cool stone segment behind him and moved his vision to focus on the mana flowing all around him. The sight was at once breathtaking and frightening.

The Heart of the Tower of Julatsa was a mana reservoir, the shape and substance of its walls drawing the fuel of magic within its boundaries and keeping it there. The strongest reflectors were the eight stone wall-segments themselves and the mana rolled up their faces to the apex of the Heart. Barras traced the flow, the eight streams of mana coming together before plunging in a single column through the centre of the Heart and the flagged stone floor.

Below his feet, Barras knew, the exact mirror image of the room in which the Council stood completed the circuit of power. Placing his nands on the stone brought Barras into that circuit.

Each member of the Council started or gasped as the mana channelled through them, increasing pulses, clearing minds for intense concentration and charging every muscle to the highest state of potential for action.

'Breathe the mana.' Kerela's voice, strong and clear, sounded through the Heart. 'Understand its flow. Enjoy its power. Know its potential. Speak your name when you are ready to begin the summoning.'

One by one, the Council members spoke their names, Barras' voice confident and loud, Torvis' with a touch of impatience, Deale's quiet and scared.

'Very well,' said Kerela. 'We will open the path and summon the Shroud Master. Be prepared for his appearance. Construct the circle.'

Eight voices intoned quietly, speaking the words that would shape the mana and begin the summoning. Barras' heart beat faster, his hands pressed harder against the greystone, his words, ancient and powerful, rolled around his mouth like oil in a drum, spilling from his lips in a single unbroken stream.

The flow of the mana changed. At first, gentle tugging distorted the shape of its course up the wall segments. More urgent pulls followed before, with a suddenness that stole a heartbeat, the mana flow snapped away from the walls and was driven, not by nature and stone but by mages. Residual flow continued to circulate but, at eye-level, a circle of mana was established, maintained by all eight senior mages, a hand's breadth wide, solid yellow and absolutely still.

'Excellent,' murmured Kerela, her voice quieter now, her concentration completely on the spell in preparation. 'We have totality. Now, draw the shape to a column that kisses the stone at our feet.'

Julatsa's Mage Council took their hands from the wall behind them and let their fingertips enter the mana circle. To Barras, it was a feeling like touching soft cloth, delicate and beautiful. As he drew his hands down in exact synchronicity with his fellow mages, forming the flawless cylindrical shape with his mind as much as with his hands' heightened touch sense, Barras rolled one word over in his mind. 'Gently. Gently.'

To tear the cylinder would jeopardise not only the spell but the health of the Council. This far into the casting, headaches, bleeding from the ears and temporary blindness were real risks of any mistake or backfire.

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 vour 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.

T 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 principle 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.

'And you are the lucky one,' said Heila. 'I cannot touch you. Shame. Your elven soul would have been my choice.'

'We are none of us lucky.' Barras' calm voice was no reflection of his inner bearing. 'Today, we will all lose people we know. Choose and begone.'

Heila smiled, his body snapped round to face the High Mage.

'You, Kerela, are the chosen. You will fuel the Shroud your College so desperately needs.' There was a hiss of indrawn breath. No demon should take the High Mage. It was like felling the tree before its fruit had grown. But Kerela just smiled.

'So be-' she began.

'No!' shouted Deale, his face pale, his body shaking. 'If she goes, saving the College is worthless. Don't be bloody-minded, Heila. If you want an elf, then take me. When I entered this chamber I knew I would be chosen. And when you were summoned, you knew it too. Take your rightful victim. Take me.'

Heila spun to face Deale. 'Remarkable,' he said. 'But I fear you are in no position to bargain.'

'We can always despatch you back to where you came from, empty-handed,' said Deale evenly, his face slick with sweat.

'Then you would not have your Shroud.'

'And you would not have the soul of a Julatsan Council member, let alone that of the High Mage.'

'Deale, I-' began Kerela.

'No, Kerela. He will not take you.'

Heila regarded Deale coldly. 'I am not used to being challenged.' Deale shrugged. 'Very well.' Heila began his rotation once more. 'Hear me, Council of Julatsa. This is the bargain I offer you.

'The soul of Deale the elf is not so highly prized as that of either Kerela, the High Mage, or Barras, the elder negotiator. But I will agree to take him over any of you on one condition. If, after fifty of your days, you still need the Shroud to keep your enemies at bay, either Barras or Kerela shall walk into the Shroud to provide new fuel. I leave it to you to decide who it should be. If neither of you approaches the Shroud, it will be removed and you will be left to die. Do we have a bargain?'

'The price for a DemonShroud is only ever one soul,' snapped Kerela. 'If mine is prized enough, then . . .'

'Kerela, the College cannot afford to lose you,' said Deale. 'Not at this time. We need a leader. You are it. You have to stay.' Deale spun to take in his colleagues. Barras could see each of them struggling to avoid his eye. 'Well, don't you agree? I should be taken and Kerela should remain? Well?'

The old mage watched as first one, then another of them nodded. All reluctant, all knowing that by their agreement they saved themselves but none wishing to condemn Deale to death.

'There,' said Deale, his voice strong though his body still shook. 'We have agreement.' He faced Heila who was regarding him solemnly, one hand on his chin, lipless mouth partly open to reveal his tiny razor-sharp teeth. 'Heila, Shroud Master and Great One, we have a bargain.'

The demon nodded. 'Never before have I heard man or elf argue so strongly for his own death.'

'When will the Shroud be raised?' demanded Kerela, looking not at Heila but at Deale, her eyes brim with tears.

'The moment I am gone and the portal is closed. It shall stand outside your walls and encompass the core threads of your mana as you require.'

Kerela nodded. 'Be of your words, Heila. Our friend sacrifices himself for this. Deale, the blessing of the College shall go with you. I . . . Your sacrifice is such that . . .' She trailed off and smiled at Deale. It was the saddest smile Barras had ever seen. 'Find peace quickly.'

'Time is short,' said Heila. 'You have fifty of your days. Count them, as I will.' His gaze snapped to Deale. 'For you, my friend, those days and any after them that I choose shall each seem an eternity. Come with me.' His hand extended, stretched beyond the confines of the portal, passing through Deale's chest and suffusing his body with blue light. At the end, Deale was calm. His face displayed no fear. He jerked once as his soul was taken, his body falling to the ground betraying no evidence of the violence of his mortal death.

Heila rotated fast and fell through the portal, Barras slamming it shut behind him. There was a momentary whispering, then all was still.

'It is done,' said Kerela, and her voice cracked. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she sank to the floor. Seldane walked quickly to Deale's body and closed his eyes.

'We must-' The door to the Heart burst open and Kard staggered in, hands clutching at his ears, his face colourless, his eyes wide. He should not have been able to cross the threshold, such was the weight of mana in the Heart, but the clamour that followed him in told its own story.

The stifling pressure of the fuel of magic was as nothing compared to the screams of those, Wesmen and Julatsans, that soared over the noise of battle, silencing every blade. It was a sound quite unlike anything that could be associated with the Balaian dimension. Piercing, driven cries that emanated from the depths of human bodies as souls were torn from their living frames, echoing through the skulls of everyone who heard them, grinding teeth and freezing muscle.

Kerela raised her head and locked eyes with Barras, all the horror of their actions reflected there for the old elf to see.

The DemonShroud had risen.

Chapter 4.

As it always does, curiosity eventually got the better of fear. The return of Sha-Kaan to his own dimension removed the immediate threat of death and, by the time The Raven walked slowly into the Central Square, a crowd was gathering around the body of the dragon.

'Back in a while,' said The Unknown, trotting away towards the corpse. Ever the warrior, ever the tactician, thought Hirad, watching his friend shoulder his way through Darrick's cavalry. A knot of Protectors with their backs to him parted instinctively to let him through. He hadn't gone to stare and shake his head at the enormity of it all. He'd gone to check closely for weak points; any chinks in the dragon's hide that might help them.

Hirad wasn't convinced he'd find any and for his part had seen enough of dragons for one day. For a lifetime, come to that, but that wasn't a choice that was his to make any more. He trudged back towards Will's spluttering cook-fire and the tunnel that led into the pyramid and the former tomb of the Wytch Lords. He needed something to calm his nerves and hoped there was at least a drain of coffee left in the pot balanced precariously on the shifting embers.

Ilkar had walked back with his arm around the shoulders of the nervy barbarian, not saying a word all the way. Hirad felt him tense as they neared the tunnel. Just in the shadow stood Styliann, above the prone form of Denser and the kneeling Erienne.

'Can't that bastard go somewhere else?' muttered the Julatsan mage. 'His presence offends me.'

'I don't think he'll hang around long after he's heard what we have to say.'

Ilkar snorted. 'Well, I'd like to think he'd take the quick way back to Xetesk, too. Unfortunately, we're all going the same way.'

Hirad was quiet for a time. 'You know, I was looking forward to joining the war against the Wesmen,' he said after a while and just as they stopped at the fire. 'It seemed like a return to the simple things. But this 'I know what you mean,' said Ilkar. 'C'mon, sit down. I'll check the pot.'

Denser had heaved himself to his feet and stood leaning against Erienne, expectancy and anxiety radiating from his pale features in equal measure.

T think you'd better come out here and listen to this,' said Hirad. 'That includes you, Styliann. Things aren't so good.'

'Define "not-so-good",' said Styliann, emerging into the sunlight and absently adjusting his shirt collar.

'Let's wait till we're all gathered, all right?' said Ilkar, handing a half mug of coffee to Hirad and sitting beside the barbarian. He nodded in the direction of the dragon's body, from which Will and Thraun were coming. The Unknown hadn't finished his examination. 'I don't want to report anything inaccurately.'