Five demons dropped toward them from a dizzying height. Their shrieks set Gerin's teeth on edge. Balandrick swore, and Nyene's scowl deepened as she glared at the demons.

"I'll take the lead creature!" Gerin shouted. The other wizards claimed targets of their own so they would not waste their efforts attacking the same demons.

Gerin calmed his mind against the pain and distraction of the shrieking, then released the spell at the lead demon.

The creature's wings slammed tight to its body as if bound by invisible chains. Its trajectory changed very little-it had been dropping almost straight down, and Gerin's magic had little effect on its course.

He could see a translucent geometric shape encasing the demon. The planes in the shape rippled with energy. Gerin did not know if this was a power Balandrick could see. He could usually tell such things, but this spell was too strange for him to be certain.

The demon continued to fall, still writhing within the geometric shape.

By the G.o.ds, when will this b.l.o.o.d.y thing disappear? he wondered.

Then he and the others leapt aside as the demon slammed into the wall-walk. The impact shook the walk and cracked the stones beneath the demon. The thing's ma.s.sive wings could not break through its prison, otherwise they all might have been swept from the walk by their frantic beating.

Another spell-trapped demon plunged past the outside of the wall and thudded on the ground far below.

The creature's appearance was horrific. Its skin was greenish-black, the color of fetid swamp water, and covered with scales. Its wide, slitlike eyes were squeezed shut as it struggled against the power holding it, so Gerin could not get a clear look at its gaze. Its shrieking had mercifully become more like strangled gasps, its fang-filled mouth gaping wide as if it was suffocating, its narrow tongue flicking in and out like a snake's.

Nyene stepped forward, amazingly fearless, and tried to bury her long-bladed knife in the creature's heart. But the spell turned her blade like a barrier of unbreakable gla.s.s. Furious, she pounded once on the barrier with the b.u.t.t of the handle before turning away and shouting in frustration.

The next instant, the demon winked from existence with a flash of dark light. Whatever power connecting it to its master in the Havalqa encampment had been severed.

Another demon smashed into the wall-walk about thirty feet from them and tumbled into the practice field that lay inside the Hammdras. Gerin ignored it and looked skyward once more.

The other nearby demons were all encased in the geometric power devised by Warden Khazuzili. Two vanished in eruptions of dark light; a few seconds later the demon that had fallen inside Hethnost also vanished.

"Ghastly things," said Balandrick. "If it had gotten free before you made it disappear-"

"Bah," spat Nyene. "I would have gutted it like a fish before it could scratch that pretty face of yours."

Before Gerin could get them to shut up, more demons dropped toward them. Medril's archers and crossbowmen did what they could to pierce the creatures with arrows and bolts, but mundane weapons did them little harm. Once encased within the geometric spell, the soldiers' missiles could no longer reach them-they were deflected away just as Nyene's knife had been.

Gerin's knees buckled as an image flashed through his mind. The Staff of Naragenth was communicating with him. This was the first time the Presence had emerged since their arrival at Hethnost. He'd wondered if the sheer number of wizards somehow made it nervous, reluctant to show itself. Naragenth had lived in a time when wizards were highly suspicious and distrusting of one another, guarding their secrets jealously. And while Naragenth had indeed called a conclave of the greatest wizards of his time in order to propose that they gather their knowledge in a single location-what would become the Varsae Estrikavis-he nevertheless continued to distrust them, insofar as he never showed any of them his staff, his crowning achievement.

The prolonged absence of the Presence had made Gerin wonder if it somehow shared some of Naragenth's distrust of other wizards. Could the personality that resided within the staff have learned such a thing from its maker?

The image that flashed in his mind was of himself and the staff making not an enclosed geometric pattern of magic, but a broad shallow bowl between the wizards and the demons, as if Khazuzili's spell had been opened up and partially flattened. He had no idea how to fashion such a thing-Khazuzili's spell was very specific in its intent and execution, and Gerin could think of no way of altering its properties in such a drastic manner.

But creating a specific spell was not needed when using the staff. The Presence controlled the shaping of magic, communing silently with Gerin to understand his desires and needs. Gerin was largely pa.s.sive in this process, little more than a conduit for magic once he had made his desires known.

Do what you showed me. He aimed his thoughts toward the staff, bending his mind to it with all of his will. Create that spell between us and the demons.

He felt a strong sense of jubilation from the staff. It was ecstatic to be used, to have a purpose-to serve.

The next instant, amber fire exploded from his body as the Presence drew magic from him to power the spell.

Balandrick, Nyene, and several other wizards leapt back in surprise at the sudden appearance of Gerin's aura. The amount of magic pouring through him was enormous. The Presence was drawing as much as it dared-any more and it threatened to burn out Gerin's paru'enthred forever.

He felt the Presence shaping the magic, an altered and ma.s.sively more complicated form of Khazuzili's spell. The Presence worked so fast that Gerin could not follow the steps it took to create the curved surface of power.

Many of the attacking demons were already encased in Khazuzili's spell by other wizards, their trapped bodies tumbling through the air or writhing on the ground before winking out of existence.

But there were still many demons coming toward them who were as yet unmolested, and it was against these creatures that the Presence directed Gerin's power. It took his breath away to watch as the faceted surface expanded across the sky at an unbelievable rate. His heightened senses allowed him to hear wizards gasping in shock as they watched his spell unfold above them.

"What is going on?" shouted Nyene. "What are they pointing at?"

"No idea," said Balandrick. "But His Majesty is obviously doing something big. We just can't see it."

Gerin realized that the demons could not see the spell, either. They raced toward it headlong, varying in neither direction or speed as the faceted curvature of the spell rose suddenly in front of them like a cresting ocean wave.

He heard the wizards and soldiers around him shout as the demons smashed into the spell. The tremendous force of the impact stunned most of the creatures.

The Presence shifted the power-Gerin could feel its manipulation of magic through the staff itself.

At once, the curvature of the spell closed into a sphere, trapping all of the demons inside it. The closure was so fast it seemed instantaneous to Gerin, movement so rapid his eyes could not follow it.

The demons fell to the bottom of the sphere in a heap, unable to find purchase of any kind on the walls of the spell. They scrabbled over one another, clawing and tearing each other's wings in a desperate attempt to escape.

The Presence changed the spell again. Almost before Gerin realized what was happening, the sphere began to shrink. Within moments it had collapsed down to a point. The demons vanished instantly.

Then the Presence halted the flow of magic and ended the spell. Gerin's aura disappeared. A sudden light-headedness overcame him, and he leaned on the staff for support. Balandrick rushed to his side and gripped his elbow.

"Your Majesty, are you all right?"

Gerin nodded. "Just tired. That took a lot of magic to work."

"You're an astounding man, Gerin Atreyano," said Nyene.

"You can thank the staff," he said wearily. "It made the spell. I just provided the materials."

She frowned. "You mock me."

"I most certainly do not."

Before she could say anything more, he was swarmed by wizards asking him question after question about the spell he'd made.

Hollin forced his way to Gerin's side and angrily told the others to move back. "We need those Forbiddings back in place over us and the gate!" he shouted. "In case you haven't noticed, those siege engines are still throwing boulders at us!"

As if to make his point, a good-sized rock smashed into the battlements not far from them. The impact crushed the merlons completely and collapsed part of the wall-walk itself. The soldiers and wizards on that part of the wall were able to scramble out of the way just in time, but two servants who were moving across the inner yard were not so lucky and were crushed by the caroming boulder.

"Get those barriers up before we get hit!" bellowed Hollin.

Gerin sheathed Nimnahal and handed the staff to a surprised Balandrick, then leaned over, hands on his knees, to catch his breath. He was sweating profusely. G.o.ds above me, but that staff certainly knows how to drain my strength!

Gerin could sense Forbiddings taking shape beyond the Hammdras. After the tumult of the demons and their terrible shrieking, the wall-walk seemed oddly hushed.

"That was a tremendous display of power," said Hollin quietly. "How did you manage such a thing?"

He took a deep breath, straightened, extended his arm toward Balan. The captain handed back the Staff of Naragenth without hesitation. He doesn't like it, thought Gerin. He likes what it can do, its power; but he doesn't like the thing itself. Balan had never said anything directly to him, but he didn't have to. Gerin knew him well enough: Balan's narrow-eyed glances at the staff when his friend thought he wasn't looking, the reluctance to touch it (which he tried to hide), his sometimes sarcastic comments about the "stick."

At first Gerin thought it was simply Balan's discomfort around anything related to wizardry-magic was something he could not defend against. Not a comforting thought for someone charged with the safety and well-being of the king. But Balandrick did not have the same sense of unease around Nimnahal, or some of the other artifacts of magic he and Hollin used. It was only the staff. Though the evidence had been acc.u.mulating in his mind for some time, Gerin only fully realized it now. He resolved to ask Balan about it when they had a private moment.

"Gerin?" Hollin said to him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just tired." He took another deep breath. "But it wasn't me. It was the staff. It showed me what I could do, and I told it to do it. All I did was supply the magic."

"Astounding," said Hollin softly as he regarded it. "How did Naragenth create such a thing?"

Yes, thought Gerin. How indeed?

Khazuzili hobbled along the wall-walk toward them as fast as he could manage.

"Brilliant, young man!" he wheezed. He reached Gerin and gripped his forearm with bent, arthritic fingers. "I should have thought of that! I'm a doddering old fool for missing something so obvious." With his other hand, Khazuzili thumped his forehead like a woodp.e.c.k.e.r knocking against a tree.

"Warden, what did you miss?" asked the Archmage. "What was so obvious?"

"Why, contracting the spell! It forces the connection between demon and the summoner to sever! My method is much less efficient. It cripples the connection but has to wait for it to decay, which varies based on the strength of the connection itself. Stronger ones obviously take longer to completely die away. Gerin's method is more like slamming a door."

"Can you modify your spell to do that?" asked the Archmage.

"Well of course! Gerin can simply tell me what he did."

"I'm sorry, Warden. I can't," said Gerin. "I have no idea how it was done. The Presence within the staff fashioned the spell. I tried to follow along, but it was working too fast."

"The magic stick saves the day again," muttered Balandrick.

"Can you ask it to tell you what it did?" asked the Warden.

Gerin shook his head. "It doesn't work that way. It doesn't talk. It shows me images, and I tell it what I want. It doesn't use words."

"We know that it can be done because it has been done," said the Archmage. "Rahmdil, you will simply have to reason out the method on your own. I have the utmost confidence in your ability to do so."

Khazuzili regarded Naragenth's staff. "An object of legend appears and works miracles before my eyes. Who'd have thought I would live to see the day?"

Kirin approached the group. "We may have something new to worry about." He pointed toward the western flank of the enemy encampment. "Some power is building there. I don't know what it is, but it's already intense, and it doesn't look like they'll be done for hours."

Gerin made his way to the wall and managed to invoke a Fa.r.s.eeing. He aimed it toward the portion of the camp that Kirin had indicated. Balandrick and Nyene moved to either side of him so they could see as well.

This was the section of the encampment devoted to inhuman creatures they had not seen before this siege. When they'd first examined the camp, they took note of the beings immediately. They averaged a head taller than the humans around them and were broader through the shoulders and torso, though their proportions were subtly different. They wore a breastplate with pauldrons and vambraces on their forearms, but no armor below the waist, only a long leather skirt. Their skin was the color of clay, their hair often white or gray. Their faces were broad and flat, with prominent cheekbones and heavy foreheads. Their eyes were lost in shadows in the deep wells of their sockets, which made them look empty, giving their features a skull-like appearance.

The creatures had been inscribing interlocking circles into the earth, with glowing braziers set at intervals along the pattern. Two of them used heavy chains to drag a plowlike instrument across the ground. A third creature walked behind, ensuring that the plow remained steady and on course.

"I don't like the look of that at all," said Balandrick.

"Neither do I," said Nyene.

Despite his weariness, Gerin managed to create several Spells of Knowing and directed them at the circles. Kirin was right: there was immense power building, slowly organizing itself as it grew, though he had no idea how it would ultimately be used.

"Can you destroy it?" asked Nyene.

"No. It's too far."

"So what do we do?" asked Balan.

"Wait and see what this thing is. And hope we have a way to stop it."

36.

How did they stop you?" Ezqedir shouted at the mursaaba. The eunuch stood near the tent's entrance, head bowed, hands folded before him. Ezqedir had not and would not offer him a place to sit. "They snuffed out your demons like candles!"

"I apologize for my failure, General," said Hu'mar. "My life is forfeit if you so desire."

"I don't want your life-at least not yet. I want to know what went wrong."

The eunuch shifted his stance but still did not look at Ezqedir. "I can't explain it, General. The power they used was different than before. More efficient. I thought our numbers would overpower them, but they have proved...adaptable."

Ezqedir prowled about the tent, striding back and forth between the two center poles. He wanted to hit something, to lash out in his anger and frustration at how these heathen wizards were thwarting him at every turn. Was this entire land cursed? He'd heard some of his men whisper their belief that the Harridan held sway here, that the light of the Powers and Holvareh Himself were weak on this continent. He'd scoffed at their superst.i.tions, but now felt uncertainty creep over him. It seemed his every thrust was turned from true. And if that was not the sign of the Harridan's foul influence, he did not know what was.

I beseech you, Herol, keep her from my battlefield! Ezqedir rarely prayed, but now felt the need to show at least some obsequiousness to the Power who governed his life. Guide me so that I may claim this victory in your name.

"What would you have us do?" asked Hu'mar.

"Nothing. These wizards have rendered you irrelevant. I can only hope the Loh'shree succeed where you failed."

Gerin removed himself to a guardhouse well inside the Hammdras and slept for a few hours. The Havalqa continued to hammer the wall with their siege engines, but the strength of the Hammdras itself, coupled with the Forbiddings that intercepted more than half of the boulders flung at them, meant that the damage was relatively light.

He awoke a short while before dawn and hurried to check on Elaysen. He found her already awake and sitting quietly in her room. She was outwardly calm-the extreme agitation that had gripped her earlier had melted away. But she was still not well. Sadness to the point of despair had enveloped her like a shroud. She would not look at him. She sat propped in bed, staring blankly out the window. Tears glistened in her eyes, and she sighed heavily with regret.

"I'm so sorry about Zaephos," she said. "What happened to his body?"

"The wizards gave him to the Releasing Fire. Kirin made the decision. He said it didn't seem right for a divine creature to be buried."

"I'm a healer. To think I killed a man..." Her breathing grew labored as she struggled to hold back a flood of tears.

"What's done is done. You weren't thinking clearly. I don't condone what you did, but neither will I condemn you for it."

She nodded. "I wish things were different. I wish I was well, and a woman you could love."

"Elaysen, please-"