The demon regarded him silently, breath rasping through its taut jaws. It nodded fractionally. ‘Then also believe that if you answer our questions and we judge you to be truthful, we will let you go.’

The demon sputtered its contempt at the statement. Heryst cocked his head.

‘It remains the truth. To take your life would be pointless. How many thousands of others are there to take your place? Nevertheless, it is your choice. But you will answer us.’

‘Nothing I tell you will help you, mage.’

‘Then there can be no harm in telling us the truth, can there?’

The demon smiled, bone ridges inside its mouth shining with saliva. ‘You will not know.’

Heryst leaned in further and his tone surprised even Arabelle. ‘Oh yes, we will. Believe that also.’

A hush fell in the great hall. Around the edges of the clear area, people crowded, not wishing to come too close to one of those that had caused such devastation and pain. Nearer, swordsmen kept watch for any incursion and mages stood ready to cast, should they be needed. Heryst circled the captured demon, Kayvel by his side.

‘Now,’ he said. ‘This is where it begins. I will give you a choice. You can either answer my first question truthfully or I can ask my colleague here to demonstrate the pain that a tiny spell can wreak upon your body. Which is it to be?’

The demon hesitated a moment. ‘Ask.’

‘We know why you are here, we want to know why you have left the colleges alone.’

‘Not all colleges. Dordover is ours.’

If Heryst was shaken, he didn’t show it. ‘But we are still here. As are Julatsa and Xetesk. Why do you not press us?’

‘We have no need. You are no threat.’

‘But surely one day you must move to attack us.’

‘When we are strong and you cannot repel us. We have time, you do not.’

‘Ah but do you, I wonder?’ Heryst walked a slow circle around the demon which watched him every step of the way, face betraying its suspicion. ‘We have had some interesting intelligence from friends and it is backed up by knowledge we have uncovered here. We think you have miscalculated. We think your home is dying and you are forced here. We think you will never be able to overwhelm us because you cannot force enough mana here before your home is lost to you. We think you are fearful.’

‘Lies. We fear no one. Balaia will be ours.’

‘Will it, my enemy?’ Heryst stood tall over the demon. ‘Is it not true that to complete your conquest you should have controlled our Hearts by now and you are not strong enough?’

‘I have answered enough questions.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said Heryst. ‘Tell me, it is true that you can never hope to beat Balaia’s mages, isn’t it?’

The demon was silent, as were all the occupants of the great hall. Arabelle considered Heryst’s approach. His considerable embellishment of Xetesk’s message, received just before she had gone to catch the demon, had taken the creature unawares.

‘Answer me. You need to consume the Hearts but you will never have the strength?’

‘No more questions,’ spat the demon.

‘Kayvel, explain to our captive that he doesn’t have the option.’

Kayvel’s casting was quick and sure. FlamePalm. The middle-aged mage breathed in deep, a frown on his face, and brought his palm towards the demon’s stomach. The creature tried to writhe away but was held too firmly. From the centre of Kayvel’s hand, a green flame sprouted, firm and hot. He played it over the light blue skin. Immediately, smoke curled up, the flesh charred and a rank odour bit at the atmosphere. The demon screamed. Heryst raised a hand and Kayvel withdrew.

‘If you keep quiet you make me do that again,’ said Heryst. ‘Answer my questions.’

‘You will be taken, mage,’ snarled the demon. ‘Nothing can stop that.’

‘Tell me why you wait, then? The real reason.’

‘I told you.’

‘Can you stop the mana flow?’ Silence. ‘Kayvel, again.’

More smoke, more stench and a murmur through the hall. More screams.

‘Answer.’

‘No.’

‘No you won’t or no the flow can’t be stopped?’

‘Please.’ The edges of the demon’s wound might have been cauterised but it was deep and blood pulsed out over its belly.

Kayvel withdrew again.

‘Well?’ demanded Heryst.

‘It cannot be stopped. Why should it? We are come and you will be taken as we please.’

‘Easy, eh?’ said Heryst. ‘Now, when will you be strong enough to attack us? When have your masters said you will take us?’

‘We have no orders.’

‘Liar.’

The demon’s eyes widened. Kayvel closed in.

‘We attack when they say. No warning, we obey. Please.’

‘Liar,’ repeated Heryst. He nodded.

This time, Kayvel’s hand played over the demon’s chest and neck. Slowly, deliberately. Skin crisped, flesh bubbled. The creature whimpered, barely moving. Its eyes remained fixed on Heryst, the hatred almost tangible. The Lord Elder Mage did not flinch.

‘Speak. My colleague can keep this up longer than you can live.’

The acrid smell of burning demon flesh stung Arabelle’s nostrils. She looked on at the torture, feeling nothing for the demon. Nothing at all.

‘Truth. Please!’

‘When you take the Hearts, will you destroy them?’

‘No!’ The demon quivered through its body. ‘Too valuable, too potent a source.’

Heryst snapped his fingers. Kayvel withdrew his hand.

‘Well, well,’ he said, catching Heryst’s eye.

‘Yes,’ agreed Heryst. ‘And so presumably you’ll be keeping every mage alive too.’

A gasping chuckle. ‘Your souls are most prized. We will enjoy you.’

‘A shame, then, that your masters are ignorant of reality.’

There was a sheen of oily sweat covering the demon’s body now. It was weakening quickly. The burns covering most of its torso were still bubbling and oozing. It regarded Heryst anew, forehead creasing slightly. A most human expression.

‘Mages keep the Hearts beating,’ said Heryst. ‘No mages. No Hearts.’

‘Liar.’

Arabelle wasn’t sure but she thought the ghost of a smile crossed the creature’s face.

‘I cannot prove it, of course, but I have spoken nothing but truth to you so far. Perhaps you should have studied Julatsa’s problems more closely.’

‘Your lies will not buy your life.’

‘Nor will yours save you, my enemy. Now. One last time. How long before you attack the colleges?’

‘I do not know.’

Heryst straightened. ‘A shame.’ He nodded at Kayvel. ‘And this time, only stop when it ceases breathing.’

‘No! No!’ The demon’s anguish echoed through the chamber, its eyes sought allies.

‘Then answer me,’ snapped Heryst, raising his voice.

‘Soon. It will be soon.’

‘Not good enough.’

‘All I know. Please.’

Kayvel’s palm rested flat on the creature’s chest. It jerked violently, a gurgle dragging from its mouth.

‘Tell me.’

‘You said you would let me go. Please.’

‘After you answered my questions. After. Speak. While you are still able.’

The demon juddered, tried to speak but only succeeded in gargling deep in its throat. It mouthed the word ‘please’ once more and tried to frame other words while its body melted away and Kayvel’s hand sank lower. Smoke poured from its wounds, the stench worsened. The demon convulsed, spat black gore from its mouth and lay still, eyes milking over.

‘Keep a hold,’ said Heryst to those pinning it down. ‘Don’t relax.’

Kayvel dismissed his spell. There was a muttering around the hall and an air of shock pervaded the chamber.

‘Brutal, wasn’t it?’ said Heryst, addressing them all. ‘Cruel even. Speak if you feel the need.’

There was a pause and a shuffling of feet.

‘You didn’t have to kill it,’ said one.

‘Maybe it was telling the truth,’ said another.

A louder murmur accompanied this last utterance and heads nodded around the hall.