all, the whole of the sky, every bit of magic it has to offer. I can be a goddess, capable of changing the world with a click of my fingers. I can...
“No,” Drust says softly. I look down and see that his hands are on either side of my shoulders but not touching me. His eyes are as dark as the sky is bright. “You must stop.”
“Why?” I whisper, continuing to draw strength from the stars.
“You won’t be able to contain so much power. Your body will unravel. You’ll die.”
“I can hold it together,” I sigh. “With this much magic I can do anything.”
“No,” he says firmly. “It will destroy you.”
I don’t want to believe him. I don’t want to stop. But I can see the truth in his expression. He’s not a jealous teacher intent on holding me back — he’s a worried ally trying to save me. Reluctantly I pull back and cut off the seductive flow of power from the stars. The world dims around me. I become human again.
Drust’s hands close on my shoulders and he squeezes warmly. “You did well,” he says.
“I did it,” I reply, hardly able to believe it now that the moment has passed. “I made the magic work.
Your
magic.”
“Yes.” He doesn’t let go. He looks troubled. “I’ve never seen someone make the leap from novice to adept so swiftly. The demon said you stole magic from him. The power that involved...”
“I didn’t mean to steal,” I say quietly. “Is it a bad thing?”
Drust shakes his head and smiles thinly. “No. Just unexpected.” He releases me. “Now, let’s get everybody settled down and restore the masking spells. There may be other demons nearby who might not be so willing to retreat as Lord Loss.”
“Do you know what he was?” I ask. “Why he could speak? What he meant about death and sorrow coming tomorrow?”
“We will talk about him shortly,” Drust says. “First the spells. You can help me cast them this time. Listen carefully, then copy what I do.” And he shows me. And I try it. And it works. Easy.
“Lord Loss is one of the more powerful Demonata,” Drust says. We’re all lying close together. It’s late in the night but nobody can sleep, not after what we’ve so recently witnessed. “He’s a demon master.”
“You said they couldn’t come through yet,” Fiachna notes.
Drust nods thoughtfully. “When the first demon master forces its way through the tunnel, it will widen. There will be a flood of demons more powerful than those who roam the land now, eager to get in on the killing while there are humans left to kill. They’ll be savage, unformed, monstrous. We’ll know when they are here — the screams of the dying will fill the air.
“I don’t think Lord Loss came through the tunnel, or that he crossed anytime recently. He could speak our language. Even the powerful demon masters cannot do that without much practice. I believe he has been here for many years, walking among us.”
“How?” Orna gasps. “The demons only started coming last year.”
“No,” Drust says. “Some came before that. There are ways for humans to summon them. They can never stay for long. They usually kill recklessly, then slip back to their own foul realm. But this one seems at home here. . . .” He falls silent, then says, “Much of our knowledge of the Demonata comes from the Old Creatures. They walked the land once. This was their world. They instructed the early druids, told them about demons, taught them how to fight. But they did not teach us all that they knew. Perhaps they couldn’t, since they were gods and we were only humans.
“As far as I was aware, demons could not roam this world freely unless a tunnel was open. That is what the Old Creatures taught us, and we have seen evidence of that in the many centuries since they withdrew from our company. But I see now that there are exceptions to that rule. Lord Loss must be one of them.”
“Are you sure he was a demon?” Goll asks. “He looked more like a Fomorii to me,
“No,” Drust says softly. I look down and see that his hands are on either side of my shoulders but not touching me. His eyes are as dark as the sky is bright. “You must stop.”
“Why?” I whisper, continuing to draw strength from the stars.
“You won’t be able to contain so much power. Your body will unravel. You’ll die.”
“I can hold it together,” I sigh. “With this much magic I can do anything.”
“No,” he says firmly. “It will destroy you.”
I don’t want to believe him. I don’t want to stop. But I can see the truth in his expression. He’s not a jealous teacher intent on holding me back — he’s a worried ally trying to save me. Reluctantly I pull back and cut off the seductive flow of power from the stars. The world dims around me. I become human again.
Drust’s hands close on my shoulders and he squeezes warmly. “You did well,” he says.
“I did it,” I reply, hardly able to believe it now that the moment has passed. “I made the magic work.
Your
magic.”
“Yes.” He doesn’t let go. He looks troubled. “I’ve never seen someone make the leap from novice to adept so swiftly. The demon said you stole magic from him. The power that involved...”
“I didn’t mean to steal,” I say quietly. “Is it a bad thing?”
Drust shakes his head and smiles thinly. “No. Just unexpected.” He releases me. “Now, let’s get everybody settled down and restore the masking spells. There may be other demons nearby who might not be so willing to retreat as Lord Loss.”
“Do you know what he was?” I ask. “Why he could speak? What he meant about death and sorrow coming tomorrow?”
“We will talk about him shortly,” Drust says. “First the spells. You can help me cast them this time. Listen carefully, then copy what I do.” And he shows me. And I try it. And it works. Easy.
“Lord Loss is one of the more powerful Demonata,” Drust says. We’re all lying close together. It’s late in the night but nobody can sleep, not after what we’ve so recently witnessed. “He’s a demon master.”
“You said they couldn’t come through yet,” Fiachna notes.
Drust nods thoughtfully. “When the first demon master forces its way through the tunnel, it will widen. There will be a flood of demons more powerful than those who roam the land now, eager to get in on the killing while there are humans left to kill. They’ll be savage, unformed, monstrous. We’ll know when they are here — the screams of the dying will fill the air.
“I don’t think Lord Loss came through the tunnel, or that he crossed anytime recently. He could speak our language. Even the powerful demon masters cannot do that without much practice. I believe he has been here for many years, walking among us.”
“How?” Orna gasps. “The demons only started coming last year.”
“No,” Drust says. “Some came before that. There are ways for humans to summon them. They can never stay for long. They usually kill recklessly, then slip back to their own foul realm. But this one seems at home here. . . .” He falls silent, then says, “Much of our knowledge of the Demonata comes from the Old Creatures. They walked the land once. This was their world. They instructed the early druids, told them about demons, taught them how to fight. But they did not teach us all that they knew. Perhaps they couldn’t, since they were gods and we were only humans.
“As far as I was aware, demons could not roam this world freely unless a tunnel was open. That is what the Old Creatures taught us, and we have seen evidence of that in the many centuries since they withdrew from our company. But I see now that there are exceptions to that rule. Lord Loss must be one of them.”
“Are you sure he was a demon?” Goll asks. “He looked more like a Fomorii to me,
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