Barras mouthed a silent apology and prayer to all those who would remain outside to die. ‘Come on, Kard. Best you don’t see this.’

‘See what?’

‘We’re deploying the DemonShroud.’ He strode to the door of the Tower, which was opened by an attendant, and swept through, taking the stairs down two at a time, displaying an agility that belied his advanced years.

With Kard puffing along behind him, he reached the Heart of the Tower to join the Council, taking his place in the circle barely even breathing harder. It was something else Kard wouldn’t understand. A mage had to be fit, no matter the age. A strong cardiovascular system was critical for casting and for mana stamina recovery.

‘Will you guard the door, General Kard?’ Barras asked.

‘It would be an honour,’ said the General, who had stopped at the door, the force of the mana inside the Heart making him uneasy though he could see nothing of it. He bowed to the Council and closed the door. His presence would ensure there were no interruptions.

The Heart of the Tower of Julatsa was a chamber set at ground level, its eight smoothed greystone segments building to a point twice a man’s height above the exact centre of a helical floor pattern. A single line of stone flags spiralled inward from the door to the Heart, disappearing in its centre. And from that point burned the mana light, a candle flame-sized teardrop which never wavered and cast no glow despite its yellow colour. Because only a mage could see it. To a non-mage, there was no teardrop at all.

The other seven members of the Council nodded to Barras in turn as he took up his position among them, each one standing flush with one greystone wall segment. When Kard closed the door, the darkness was complete.

Barras could feel the nervousness of the Council, members young and old. It was hardly surprising. DemonShroud was Julatsa’s most difficult, dangerous and powerful spell. Only twice had it been cast before, both times well before any of the current Council had been born, and both times at moments of extreme danger for the College of Julatsa.

All knew the import of their intended casting. All had prepared themselves for the potential eventuality of its casting when the Wesmen attack began. All were aware that only seven of them would step from the Heart when it was done. None knew who would be chosen.

‘Shall we have light for our casting?’ the High Mage asked of the Council. The traditional words came from directly opposite Barras. One by one, the Council replied.

‘Aye, light for us to see one another and to gain strength from the seeing.’

‘My mage, Barras, who called us to the Heart, bring light to us,’ said the High Mage.

‘It will be done,’ replied Barras. He prepared the shape for a LightGlobe, as he knew he would have to. It was a simple shape, a static hemisphere, drawn quickly from the mana channelling into the Heart. The expenditure of effort was minimal and Barras deployed the LightGlobe just above the mana candle, its gentle light banishing shadows and illuminating the Council.

Barras took them in with a slow sweep of his head, bowing to each member, drinking in their expressions and knowing that he would never see one of them again, and that it might be him taken by the demons.

To his left, Endorr, the junior. A Council member only fully fledged seven weeks before at the High Chamber. A great talent, Endorr was short, ugly and powerful. It would be a pity to lose him.

Working around the circle, he took in Vilif, the ancient secretary to the Council, stooped, hairless and close to his time. Seldane, one of two females on the council, late middle-aged, grey-haired and sour. Kerela, the High Mage, a close personal friend and fellow elf. They could ill afford to lose her at a time like this. Tall, dark and proud, Kerela led the Council with a steel determination respected by the entire College. Deale, another elf, ageing and given to rash talk. His was a face full of fear, his long features drawn and pale. Cordolan, middle-aged, portly and jovial. His balding pate showed sweat in the light of the Globe and his jowls held a heaviness. He could do with more exercise; his stamina would otherwise suffer.

And finally, to Barras’ immediate right, Torvis. Old, impetuous, energetic, wrinkled and very tall. A quite wonderful man.

‘Shall we begin?’ The High Mage brought them all around. ‘I thank you, Barras, for your gift of light.’ And there, the normal formalities ended.

‘Members of the Julatsan Council,’ said Kerela. ‘We are gathered because a critical threat exists to our College. Unless our proposed action is taken, it is certain that the College will fall. Do any of the Council disagree with that interpretation?’

Silence.

‘Knowing the risks involved in the deployment of the DemonShroud, do any of the Council wish to remain outside the Heart during the casting?’

From Barras’ right, Torvis chuckled, his irreverence lifting the mana-laden tension temporarily.

‘Kerela, really,’ he said, his voice like dried leaves underfoot. ‘By the time we have spoken all our words of caution, the Shamen will be in here with us to assist our casting. No one is leaving, you know it.’

Kerela frowned but her eyes sparkled with passing humour. Barras nodded his agreement.

‘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 hands 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.