The Young Magician

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Samuel awoke with an awful headache. It seemed he had been doing this quite often lately, but this time, it was entirely his own fault. He remembered coming back to the school with Lomar, Master Glim and Eric the day before to find Goodfellow. After briefly discussing the events at the palace, the five of them had gone into the city for a night of celebration at ThePride, a favourite establishment of Eric’s. They had drunk much fine ale that night, which was quite unlike magicians, but the death of the Emperor deserved the greatest of celebrations. The ale was chilled magically by the owner, a retired member of the Order who still practised the odd spell or two, and this made the drink much more palatable, for Samuel had never developed a taste for the stuff. He vaguely remembered the conversation from early in the evening and could dimly recall some singing, some terrible jokes and tripping over his own legs as he tried to get to the privy and back. After that, he could not remember very much at all.

He climbed out of the chair in which he had awoken, his limbs feeling awkward and heavy, and stepped out the door. He relieved his bladder onto the ground the moment he had his trousers loosened-without even a thought of making for the privy. Much relieved, he stepped back inside. Eric was asleep in his bed, his mouth wide open. He looked almost dead.

Samuel tried to cast a spell to clear his head a little, but the ability evaded him. His head had an incessant ringing inside and it made thinking decidedly difficult. Thinking this early in the day, he decided, was definitely a bad idea. Instead, he stumbled from Eric’s room and out into the grounds, drawn by a compulsion to put something solid in his gut. Making for the Masters’ kitchen, his body carried him forward like a mindless creature.

He could not tell what time it was, but the sun was a fair way in the sky. An apprentice trotted past and called ‘good day’, but Samuel’s head was too thick to reply. The cooks made him a meal and it helped to settle the uneasiness in his stomach somewhat. So this was the price for such merriment? He vowed to himself that he would never repeat the act again. Even several glasses of fruit juice could not remove the dryness from his throat and it might be days before he could gather the clarity of mind to call his spells. Hunger sated, he stumbled back to Eric’s room and collapsed unconscious back into the chair for the remainder of the day.

It had been a week since the death of the Emperor and Samuel found himself striding through the lamplit city streets between the two Erics. Master Glim had sent urgent word for them to come to the palace for a meeting, so the three of them had hurried off at once with all haste.

‘Watch this!’ Eric told his friends as they made through one of the many smaller markets. A line of camels was being led along the street by a tanned easterner. People, mostly wealthy visitors’ and merchants’ children, paid to sit on the backs of these animals and be led around the city. The experience was said to be interesting, but akin to voluntary torture. ‘Abut!’ Eric called out and the entire string of camels sat down at once, causing their inexperienced riders to hold on for dear life with horror on their faces.

The three young men laughed and ducked from view before the swearing teamster could spy them.

‘What did you say?’ Goodfellow asked.

‘I heard one of them say it one time. It must mean “sit”,’ Eric replied. ‘I’ve still got an ear out for the word that means “run”, and then we’ll have some real entertainment.’

They all laughed again and continued merrily towards the palace.

On arrival, they were led to a large meeting room in the palace, which was centralised by a long, dark-timbered table. Sitting around it were Lomar and Master Glim, Grand Master Anthem with the comparatively-youthful Grand Master Gallivan seated beside him, and a number of the councillors including High Lord Rimus and Lords Vander, Hathen and Irshank. The three new arrivals each sat in a vacant chair as directed.

‘Welcome, Samuel, Master Pot, Master Goodfellow,’ Grand Master Anthem began. ‘High Lord Rimus has asked me to brief you on what we have been discussing. Much has been happening since the unfortunate demise of our Emperor and the tragic events of the palace grounds. I will bring you up to date on what has occurred over recent days and then we have something to ask of you. First of all, I will inform you that Master Lomar and Master Glim have been appointed temporary positions on the Magicians’ Council and they can also help to fill you in on any other details once we are done. Lord Coombs was an unfortunate casualty of the recent altercation and Lord Jarrod’s murder also creates a vacancy that must be filled.’ Samuel and his friends nodded at the statement and Grand Master Anthem continued. ‘You all know of the events that occurred here last week. We now know that our beloved Archmage and Emperor were killed by Garten infiltrators-’ His voice did not carry any great tone of sincerity, but of course it would not be wise for anyone to publicly rejoice over the deaths. Even during their drunken celebration in The Pride, they were very careful in everything they said. It turned out the owner had forced all the other patrons outside and barred the door once the magicians’ tongues had started flapping a tad too freely. ‘-and the Order lost many wise and good friends. These losses, however, will only serve to make us stronger. We have been in close discussion with the Empress, the Emperor’s civil and military advisors and key Turian nobles. Emissaries have been sent to Qaldar to demand an explanation for the actions of the Garten spies, but we can only wait on the reply.

‘The Empress has created a close group of ministers, as she is inexperienced in affairs of the state, and she will continue to rule under such guidance until her unborn son is born and comes of age. Should her child prove not to be a son as she expects, then the Empire will fall into the hands of the ministers and they will decide how to best manage it. Personally, I hope this does not come to pass as I have found her to be quite an intelligent woman and I believe she will manage the Empire well. While some may not agree with me, I believe it is fortunate that she, too, is not a native Turian. Even though her son will be Emperor, her territorial background seems to have given her quite a broad outlook of the situation. We are confident that, given time, the Empire can continue to prosper, while returning some degree of independence to those states that wish to receive it.

‘Her first official proclamation has been to permanently delay the invasion of Garteny and word has already been sent to any forces on their borders to stand down. They will remain in position for a short time, but will make their defensive posture known, and will not attack unless first provoked. At the same time, an enormous effort is being put into protecting the Empress from any harm. Until such time as we do receive an explanation from King Otgart, we must assume we are potentially in a state of war.

‘So, with the Empress’ Council being formed and the Order saved from destruction, we have a few important matters left to attend to. The first is Lord Tulan Goodwin. It is now evident that he was a Garten spy and has been working for the Gartens for many years, gathering information on the Order and the Empire and sending it back to King Otgart. General Ruardin’s enquiries have already revealed that he had quite a network of agents here in Cintar, such as the assassins that felled the Emperor, most of whom seem to have suddenly vanished along with him.

‘The other item at hand involves Lord Jarrod, Master Ash and Master Dividian. Despite my known personal disliking of Lord Jarrod, it seems that someone liked him even less and saw fit to put a knife into him about the same time we were fighting in the palace grounds. Thankfully, we all have quite infallible alibis. Master Ash is now the main suspect and Master Dividian is wanted as an accomplice. Both of them went missing about the same time we were arrested. Our initial investigations into the Argum Stone chamber reveal countless stolen tomes of knowledge, as well as evidence of the use of black magic. These crimes alone demand their arrest, but we also suspect they have an alliance with the Circle of Eyes, perhaps in a plot to overthrow the Emperor themselves. Whatever their reasons, Master Ash and Master Dividian have been spotted riding north from the city and we want to organise a party to go and bring them back for questioning, or execute them, should the need arise. We thought you three-’ and the old man, from under his wispy grey brows, looked directly towards Samuel, ‘-would be perfect for the task.’

Samuel nodded and slowly rubbed his thumbs together in deep thought. ‘Where are they heading?’ he asked.

‘We believe they are heading for the old magic school at Hammenton. It seems no one really knows what has been happening there since Jarrod took over the place, so we want to send someone to investigate and see what exactly is going on, and also carry out the arrest of Master Ash and Master Dividian.’

High Lord Rimus took his turn to speak. ‘You three young men have proven your places among those of high standing in the Order, and we would like to offer you the opportunity to investigate Hammenton and bring these rogue magicians to justice.’

Samuel looked to the Erics with genuine surprise, for it seemed as if the Council had forgiven him and put their differences behind them.

On noticing Samuel’s hesitance, Anthem spoke up. ‘We have already explained to the Empress and the councillors how Lord Jarrod and his co-conspirators had painted some of us to be traitors to draw attention away from them. We have also explained how all our efforts to expose their devious schemes were misinterpreted as a plot against the Empire. As such, they are quite apologetic at our treatment. All charges laid against us have been dropped.’

‘Oh…that’s good,’ Samuel said, a little unsure. It seemed that Grand Master Anthem had been busy twisting the facts to their benefit, but Samuel was not about to complain. He looked to High Lord Rimus, who returned a somewhat disturbing smile in acknowledgement.

‘That’s right,’ Eric added, elbowing Goodfellow in the ribs. ‘We are heroes, after all.’

‘Calm down now, Eric,’ Master Glim urged the young man. ‘There’s no need to get carried away.’

‘So, who would like to go to Hammenton and root out these fiends?’ High Lord Rimus asked.

‘Well, I can’t speak for the others, but I would certainly like to go,’ Samuel said with eagerness. ‘My meeting with Ash is long overdue.’

‘And what a surprise he will be in for, Master Samuel,’ Rimus responded, ‘when he discovers the best of the Order have come seeking justice. I only hope that you will deliver his punishment swiftly. I would think that he will confess to you once cornered. If he resists, that would be a certain admission of guilt. The Council certainly recommends that you use any amount of force necessary.’

Goodfellow was more cautious. ‘Who else will be accompanying us?’ he asked. ‘It sounds like it could be dangerous.’

‘Master Glim and I will go,’ Lomar stated, ‘along with a number of other magicians with appropriate skills, so there will be ten of us altogether. We will also take a small escort of Royal Guard from the palace and meet a further company of local soldiers at our destination. We are not sure of the exact numbers that Master Ash may have at his disposal, so we are not taking any chances. The place could be full of paid killers. The Royal Guard will take care of any such underlings and leave the matter of Master Ash to us.’

Anthem then spoke up. ‘Also, when you return, we have the matter of the Argum Stone to deal with. We have not even had time to begin to deal with it or the hoard of books kept beside it. As you already have some experience with the subject, we would like you to continue your research into the ancient relic and see what can be learned-if anything.’

Samuel looked to his friends who quickly nodded assent. ‘We’ll go,’ he responded on their behalf.

‘Fine,’ Lomar said. ‘We shall leave at daybreak tomorrow as we feel it is quite important to deal with the matter urgently. Meet Master Glim and me in the school stables. Oh yes, before you go, there is one more thing to announce. The successor to Archmage Ordi has now been chosen. High Lord Rimus has been appointed to the role.’ At that, Rimus looked quite pleased with himself. ‘The decision will be publicly announced tomorrow.’

‘The people of Cintar are proving quite restless,’ said Rimus, ‘which is not surprising given the recent happenings. We need to restore some order to their lives as soon as we can.’

Master Glim then spoke up. ‘We’ll have plenty of time to travel to Hammenton and be back again before the ceremony begins, so we don’t need to worry about missing any of the excitement. The Empress is also planning a celebration to mark the end of the Emperor’s mourning period. It’s very uncustomary, I know, but I think it’s rather a good idea to put the past behind us and begin anew.’

‘Then if that matter is finalised, we have many others to discuss,’ Rimus said. He looked to Samuel and the Erics expectantly. ‘If you will excuse us, gentlemen.’

With that, Samuel realised it was time for them to leave. As he and the Erics vacated the room, a heated discussion began behind them, with Anthem’s voice already sounding out above the others before they had barely closed the door. General Ruardin strode past them as they made down the hall, heading towards the meeting chamber. He nodded to them in greeting, with his great sword swinging at his hip and looking as stern as ever.

‘Well,’ Goodfellow began. ‘It looks as though everything has turned out fine. The war is finished, the Argum Stone is out of dangerous hands and the conquered nations of Amandia may even be getting their freedom back.’

‘Who would have thought?’ Eric said. ‘All we have left is to clean up the mess of Master Ash and Master Dividian and be back in time for the celebration.’

‘But that’s all I’ve been waiting for all along,’ Samuel stated, almost as if thinking aloud. ‘Finally, it looks as though there is nothing left to stop me from killing Ash. Then, perhaps, I can finally get some rest.’

The two Erics nodded in silence, for Samuel’s voice carried a grim tone.

Shortly after daybreak, they met at the stables, where Master Glim and Lomar were already waiting, checking over some horses with the apprentices on duty.

‘Packed your bags?’ Master Glim asked.

‘Of course,’ Samuel said, holding up his tight pack and the Erics patted theirs as well. ‘How long will it take to get there?’

‘Five days, by horseback,’ Lomar replied. ‘It’s quite far. We’ll be staying in Order lodges along the way when we can, while our Royal Guard escort will be camping on the roadside.

Samuel nodded. ‘Then I have all I need.’

‘We’ve readied some horses for you,’ Master Glim said.

Samuel knew one of the animals on sight. ‘Jess!’ He stroked the beast fondly and he could tell that she, too, remembered him. ‘This is a surprise. I haven’t seen this nag since I returned to Cintar.’

‘She was out in the pastures, Master Samuel,’ the apprentice said. Samuel did not recognise the apprentice from a bag of salt, but the boy evidently knew him. ‘I fetched her up especially for you.’

‘Well, thank you for that,’ Samuel replied and swung himself up onto the saddle and patted Jess once more on the neck. It only now registered that people had begun calling him Master. Officially, he had never made it past Adept, but with even the likes of High Lord Rimus seeming to recognise his new status, it seemed that Samuel was, indeed, now truly a Master of the Order. Rimus, strict and stubborn a Turian as he was, would never utter such a title mistakenly.

Clearing his head of the thoughts, Samuel returned his attention to the faithful animal beneath him. ‘How have you been, old girl?’ he asked and Jess scraped one hoof along the floor by way of reply.

The others mounted their horses and they began riding slowly out of the school without further pause, threading through the busy streets until they passed through the enormous North Gate and were clear of the bustling city.

A squad of Royal Guards sat waiting on the other side of the Bardlebrook, all dressed in light leather armour trimmed in blue and gold, suitable for riding long distances. Two magicians were also waiting there with the men. They were Master Keller and Master Tailor, and once their introductions had been made, they began northwards along the busy highway.

‘What of the others?’ Goodfellow asked. ‘Weren’t there to be ten of us?’

‘They’ll meet us with the local company just short of Hammenton,’ Master Glim responded.

Goodfellow nodded and they rode on past the green fields and lines of wagons that were all bound for Cintar.

The Royal Guard rode ahead in twos. The magicians, not nearly so accustomed to riding as the soldiers, found it difficult keeping up and, at the end of the second day, they arrived into camp an hour after the soldiers had already put up their tents. Every so often, a rider or two would come back and check on them, before galloping off again to catch up with the main group. The soldiers preferred to keep to themselves, which was not surprising considering what had happened just recently.

The two magicians, Keller and Tailor seemed like friendly fellows. They were similar in age to Master Glim, middle-aged, and prone to swearing at each other in friendly banter. They had been working at a nearby quarry-aiding in the retrieval of metals required for the war effort-when Master Glim had sent for them. Fortunately, they had missed the battle at the palace. Both were Masters of Moving and Lifting and were apparently the most gifted in these spells amongst the Order. Samuel hoped he would have the chance to see their skills in use.

They spent the first night in a simple inn in the town of Burbershore and rejoined the Royal Guard at dawn as the men were packing up their camp. The captain of the men was named Orrell, and he was young for a captain, quite new to the rank, Lomar had explained. Despite his inexperience, he managed his men-even younger than he-like extensions of his own fingers. He was quick and precise in his instructions and his men had an innate respect for him that left them striving to meet his exact orders. Samuel knew he had met the captain before, but he could not, for the life of him, remember where. Finally, after racking his brain, he remembered. Orrell was the captain that had caught Samuel in the city, when Lord Hathen and Vander had taken him to see the Archmage. Life was full of strange coincidences, but Captain Orrell did not seem to remember Samuel, or he showed no sign of it if he did.

‘Samuel,’ Master Glim began as they were resting at a point where the road crossed a shallow, rocky stream. ‘What will you do once you have your revenge on Master Ash?’

‘What do you mean?’ Samuel returned, emptying stones from his boots.

‘I mean, what will you do? You seem to be so focused on killing the man; I don’t know what you will do with yourself once your goal has been met.’

‘I guess I will rest,’ Samuel finally replied.

Master Glim raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘And then?’

‘I don’t know,’ Samuel admitted.

‘I agree,’ Lomar called out from atop a rock. He was some distance away, but had obviously been listening. There was a splash as one of Orrell’s men slipped over and fell into the ankle-deep waters. The man cursed as he tugged off a boot and began to pour the water out and Captain Orrell looked towards him with dissatisfaction. ‘You should not set yourself so entirely on such a grim task. What will you do with yourself once you are done-or should you fail?

‘I won’t fail,’ Samuel stated adamantly. ‘Fate has set our courses to collide and every piece of my being still cries out for his death. I won’t fail.’

Lomar shrugged and continued looking up towards the hills.

‘Do you think Rimus will make a good Archmage?’ Samuel asked and Lomar dropped lightly from his perch and came beside them where they were squatting atop the many smooth stones.

‘Despite his flaws, High Lord Rimus is a decent choice,’ Lomar stated. ‘I won’t say he is a saint, however, for he suffers from many of the same failings as most Turians-no offence to you, Master Glim.’

‘None taken,’ the aging teacher replied. ‘I am only too well aware of the nature of my country folk.’

‘It’s just a pity that Grand Master Anthem could not take the role,’ Samuel said. ‘I mean, he is the strongest magician after all and I’m sure he would do a better job than Rimus.’

‘Actually,’ Master Glim revealed, ‘there was much discussion along those very lines, but I’m afraid now is just not a good time to put a Garten in such a position. The Grand Master is quite respected, but with the Empress being an Outlander herself, we all agreed that a Turian should fill the shoes of Archmage. If not, the people of Cintar may begin to think a coup has secretly taken place. Rimus is highly revered by the city folk and his inauguration will serve to calm their fears.’

‘I suppose you are right,’ Samuel admitted.

Lomar clapped his hands together loudly-one of the unusual mannerisms he was known to do-and stood up, noting the approach of the two Erics from along the stream. They had heard there was a waterfall a short distance away and had gone to investigate. As usual, Eric was laughing wildly while Goodfellow looked calm and quiet beside him.

‘You should see all the caves up there!’ Eric called. ‘It’s amazing!’

‘Samuel, do you think you will take up Anthem’s offer to study the Argum Stone?’ Master Glim asked, ignoring the excited hoots from Eric.

Samuel thought a moment. ‘Perhaps one day, but after this-after I have seen Ash’s corpse laid at my feet-I think I will feel like a long rest. I’ve had enough of such things. I would rather be out of the city for a time-especially given that High Lord Rimus will be Archmage. I really don’t think he likes me very much.’

Master Glim laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Samuel. While Grand Master Anthem is still at hand, you have nothing to fear. He will keep you under his wing. I’m sure you won’t let something trivial as Turian arrogance get the better of you. It would be a shame to see all your potential go to waste. I had my doubts, but I think the decision to appoint Rimus will turn out for the best. He’s been nothing but helpful these last few days-all the Council have.’

‘Well it’s good to hear that the Magicians’ Council is finally agreeing on something. I keep forgetting-you are on the Council now. Should I be calling you My Lord from this point on?

‘Sorry to disappoint you, Samuel, but my place is with the students. I will give up my position on the Council as soon as someone else can be found, so there’s no need to change what you call me. I have no time for those pompous asses. No offence, My Lord Lomar,’ he added, making an exaggerated and grandiose flourish with his hand, all in good jest.

Samuel looked to Lomar with pleasant surprise.

‘Yes, Samuel,’ Lomar admitted. ‘I think I will be keeping my place on the Council.’

‘I’m happy for you, Lomar,’ Samuel declared. ‘But don’t you think you will find the confines of the city stifling? And what about all those dreary meetings? How will you put up with all that?’

‘Things may be turning out for the best, but someone still needs to keep an eye on the Council. Also, my poor old body cannot be on the road forever. I have to admit I’m not as young as I used to be. My hair is giving me the hint.’ He pointed to the flecks of grey just starting to make themselves known at the edges of his thick, black hair.

‘Mount up!’ came a distant call from one of Orrell’s men, interrupting them.

Samuel groaned and rubbed his sore behind. ‘I hope I get used to all this riding again.’

They had been camping outside of Hammenton for a whole day and still there was no sign of the other company or the second group of magicians. The townsfolk knew nothing of them and the scouts returned with the same news. Captain Orrell gathered the magicians around him as his men settled in for the night.

‘I don’t know where Garret’s company is,’ he said, ‘but they’re not here and they haven’t been here any time recently.’ Lomar and Master Glim nodded. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say that they’ve become lost. They should have come through the woods to the north, but there’s no sign of them. We can either wait longer and hope they arrive soon, or go on alone.’

‘What of the keep?’ Master Glim asked.

‘It’s only a short distance from here, built atop one of the stony hills. It could provide the occupants with some protection, but my men are experts at overcoming such fortifications. My men are few, but they are well-trained. Even without Garret’s company, we should be able to overcome any reasonable amount of resistance. However, my scouts say that they could be expecting us. The gates are already drawn firmly closed, which strikes me as unusual. You usually only shut the gates in times of disorder-to keep people out.’

Master Glim nodded. ‘Do you know how many are inside?’

‘High Lord Rimus said to expect only a handful of magicians and perhaps a dozen or so mercenaries. Nothing leads me to believe any different-yet.’

‘What if there are more?’ Lomar asked.

‘We can handle them,’ Orrell stated factually. ‘My squad are better trained than any mercenaries and are experts at dealing with magicians-distract them, or come at them from two sides, then cut their throats or fill them with arrows. Most mages can only deal with one thing at a time and are easily bewildered in battle-no offence to you good lords, of course.’

Master Glim nodded, somewhat unhappily, but he gave the captain a steadfast reply. ‘None taken.’

‘I’m not really one for battles,’ Goodfellow said nervously. ‘I didn’t think this would be so troublesome. I even thought it could be fun, but nothing really seems to be going to plan.’

‘Killing is never fun, Magician,’ Orrell said sternly in reply. ‘Thinking like that will get you killed.’ And Goodfellow looked embarrassed with himself. ‘Anyway,’ Orrell continued, ‘if it does turn out that the place is brimming with men, we simply won’t proceed. I’m not going to get us into anything over our heads. My scouts will let us know as soon as they find anything.’

‘This is all turning into a mess!’ Master Glim exclaimed unhappily, but Captain Orrell was unfazed.

‘Events in the field rarely choose to follow our plans,’ he explained. ‘What matters is that we are in control of the situation, so there is no need to get agitated just yet. We will only continue on when we so choose.’

Master Glim nodded, taking the advice under his belt.

‘Sir!’ a man said, pushing his way out of the dark shrubs to Orrell’s side.

‘What is it, Valiant?’ Orrell asked.

‘There’s something going on.’

‘What is it?’

‘Fighting within the keep, Captain.’

‘Oh?’ Orrell said with interest. ‘Garret’s men?’

‘We cannot tell, Captain. There’s obviously a commotion going on inside. We cannot see what’s happening, but it seems to be a bloodbath, Sir.’

‘How can you tell?’ Master Glim asked the man.

‘There’s a lot of screaming,’ Valiant replied. ‘More than I’d expect from a straightforward melee. Sent a chill down my spine. Sounds like they are tearing each other to pieces.’

Orrell pondered the report. ‘Let’s take a closer look.’

It was only a short way through the dark woods. They crossed a gully and a small rise before the keep became visible on the next hill, shaded grey in the moonlight. Four sheer walls surrounded what could only be called a tiny town. Two scouts were waiting at the edge of the trees as they approached. Captain Orrell’s Royal Guards sat silently behind.

‘Report,’ Orrell told his scouts.

‘Nothing for a time, Captain,’ one began. ‘Then the same as before-more screams and shouts. Someone even butchered the horses by the sound of it. The main gate opened a while ago, but no one came out. It’s been silent since then. We haven’t moved any closer to take a look. To be honest, Captain, none of us wanted to get any closer until the magicians came to take a look.’

‘I feel magic,’ Master Glim stated and Samuel could see that he was right. Many spells had been cast recently, of almost every nature. The lingering glow of magic was still glimmering just above the walls.

‘I think we should wait until daylight,’ Orrell reflected. ‘Whatever just happened here seems to be over. Our mission may have been done for us by the sound of things. Just in case, I’d rather not walk into a trap. We’ll take a look after sunup.’

They all agreed and made their way back to the camp. Scouts remained at the site to relay any news, but Samuel slept soundly until he was roused by the sun in his eyes and the smells of cooking.

‘Get up, sleepy head,’ Eric called, poking his head into Samuel’s tent. ‘Breakfast is ready.’

Samuel yawned. ‘Any news? Are we going to the keep?’

Eric bobbed his shoulders. ‘Someone went in at first light and said the place is empty.’

‘They went without us?’

‘It was one of Orrell’s scouts. I think that after a few hours of waiting, they forgot their fears and boredom got the better of them. At least now we know it’s not a trap.’

Samuel struggled out of the tent and stood beside Eric. His back had lumps in it from sleeping on the hard ground. ‘Nothing there? Where did they all go?’

‘No one knows,’ Eric said. ‘They didn’t leave, but they’re not there. Captain Orrell wants us to take a look after breakfast.’

Samuel’s stomach grumbled and he strode over to one of the campfires. The other magicians were already eating their fill of stewed rabbit, which the soldiers had caught and prepared for them. They also had grilled some sort of pheasant and were picking at the bones when Captain Orrell came striding back into camp.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked of the group and they nodded and stood, quickly wiping their chins. ‘Good, let’s go.’

The keep stood quietly on the hill. A few ribbons of smoke rose slowly from within its depths, but otherwise it was deathly still.

‘Any movement?’ Orrell asked of his scouts.

‘No, Captain. No one has left, no one has approached. No signs of anything at all.’

Orrell nodded and then stepped boldly from the cover of the woods and started up the rise. Samuel looked to Master Glim and they both started after the man. Orrell’s men then filed out from the trees and followed them, hands readied on their weapons. When they had climbed the barren slope around the keep and faced its yawning gates, Orrell signalled to his men.

‘Stay here,’ he told the magicians while the soldiers hurried past them through the solid entry way.

The mages, Keller and Tailor came up beside them, looking nervous. Samuel felt a shiver himself. The whole situation was eerie.

A handful of Orrell’s men lingered a short distance away, surveying the empty hillsides with uneasy eyes.

‘What do you feel?’ Lomar asked of the group.

‘Nothing,’ Master Glim replied and the others shook their heads in agreement.

Samuel could still see a slight trace of the spells from the previous night, but there was no new magic in the air.

‘Come in,’ Orrell’s voice called from inside.

Master Glim led the way, pulling his cloak tighter around him. Despite the clear sky and sunshine, there was a chill in the air.

Inside, they found a large courtyard, around a central stone well and surrounded by blockish buildings all constructed of roughly-hewn stone. Orrell was waiting beside the well, talking with some of his men. The others were searching elsewhere within the keep. It was a tightly enclosed space, but could probably house thirty or forty men at a pinch. There was room for only the most necessary of facilities: a kitchen, dormitories, a small washhouse and the like. It was probably first built as a lookout station, meant for keeping watch over the valleys around.

One side of the courtyard appeared to be where the animals were kept, with a small roof and a rail for securing horses against the wall. Saddlery and feed lay beside, but there were no animals to be seen.

‘See what you can find here,’ Orrell told them. ‘My men are searching the buildings, so wait for them to give the all-clear before you start wandering around. There’s some blood over there.’ He pointed to the stable area. ‘Perhaps you can tell me something so I know what the hell has happened here.’

The magicians went over as a group, milling about with their dark robes hung about them. It was a dull and cloudy day-deathly quiet. Samuel felt a trickle of sweat run down his brow.

Lomar squatted by the dark stain that marked the hay.

‘Is it a man’s?’ Master Glim asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Lomar shrugged, touching the stuff and smelling his fingers. ‘It’s not from a mage. It could be horse blood.’

‘What could have happened to them?’ Keller asked, looking at the others, but no one replied.

Goodfellow was looking thoughtful, as usual, peering up at the keep walls. Narrow platforms were positioned shortly below the top, so that defenders could stand and protect themselves with bow and arrow. Wooden ladders led up to them. One was broken, lying at the base of the wall in haphazard pieces.

Something caught Lomar’s eye and he stood and inspected the horse-rail. ‘Look at this.’

He touched a strip of leather that had been pulled tight around the rail. It was a rein, snapped, as if the animal had panicked and broken its tethering. They all looked to each other in puzzlement.

‘This does not seem to be a normal occurrence,’ Tailor said. ‘This whole place, I mean. Something frightful has happened here.’ Yesterday, Samuel would never have thought the man could have looked so fearful.

‘Anything?’ Captain Orrell called over.

‘No magic,’ Lomar called back. ‘But something strange.’

‘I’ve seen it,’ Orrell returned. ‘There are plenty of strange things here. There’s a few horse teeth on the ground over there, as well-freshly knocked from the gums.’

They went back over to Orrell and stood in a group with him and a few of his men.

‘Do you have any ideas?’ Master Glim asked him.

Orrell shook his head. ‘It’s still a mystery. I can only surmise that somehow, someone came in here and slaughtered everyone and everything and then dragged all their corpses away without us seeing-or else someone went to great expense to make it look that way. There’s nothing living left in this keep-no men, no horses, no pigs, no chickens-nothing. There are blood stains here and there, but not enough for the men who were supposed to be waiting here. I just don’t know who could have done this and slipped out without us seeing.’ Captain Orrell then turned to Samuel. ‘It looks like someone’s taken care of your revenge for you, Magician.’

‘I hope not,’ Samuel returned darkly. ‘I was looking forward to it.’

Samuel was somewhat surprised that the captain knew of his vendetta. Did the Royal Guard have information on everything they did?

‘What about the well?’ Goodfellow suggested. ‘Could someone have used it as a route, travelling along to another opening?’

Orrell nodded. ‘It’s possible. Someone is already fetching me some lanterns and then I’ll send a man down to take a look. It’s conceivable that assassins came up through the well-assuming it leads somewhere-and for some reason I cannot fathom, dragged all the animals and bodies out the same way.’ He eyed the size of the well. ‘With considerable difficulty.’

‘Secret passages, perhaps?’ Eric suggested.

‘I’m looking into it. Can any of you use your magic to look for passages or tunnels or the like?’

Tailor nodded. ‘We can do it.’

‘I’ll start over there,’ Keller added and they began their spells at once.

‘Samuel,’ Master Glim began. ‘Can you and Goodfellow scan the back of the keep? We’ll search inside the buildings.’

Samuel nodded. He was about to leave when a soldier came running over. It was the man called Valiant. He began whispering to Orrell.

Finally, Orrell turned to the magicians. ‘They’ve found someone-a magician.’

They hurried past various groups of Orrell’s men, each dragging out stoves and smashing at cupboards, looking for passages. They were taken to a building at the very rear of the keep and into a room that appeared to have been a study at one time. Desks, chairs and papers were strewn across the floor as if a struggle had recently taken place.

‘This is how they found it,’ Orrell mentioned.

Three of his men were waiting at the base of some stairs and Orrell led the way up. Samuel pushed in last, into a cramped area that held stores and wooden boxes. A ladder led up yet again and Orrell was already climbing it, past another couple of his men. Voices could be heard echoing in the roof space above.

Samuel entered into the small attic. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, as the only light shone through cracks in the shutters.

‘Wait downstairs,’ Orrell told one of his men, who pushed past them all and went back down the ladder.

Sitting on the ground was a chubby man, wearing magician’s robes, but he was clearly not a magician. Samuel could tell this at once for his aura was thin and dismal-as with common folk.

‘This is Master Sebastian,’ Orrell informed them. ‘He seems to be the only survivor.’

‘He is no Master,’ Samuel said at once and Master Glim gave him an urgent hush, look. The man, Sebastian, was looking at each of them with wild eyes.

‘He was a Master, Samuel,’ Lomar told. ‘He has lost his power.’

‘How is that possible?’ Eric asked in disbelief.

‘Quite easily,’ Lomar explained in hushed tones. ‘He has gone mad.’

The man, Sebastian, began to blubber into his hands, shaking his head and with tears streaming down his face.

‘Calm now, Master Sebastian,’ Master Glim told the man, squatting beside him.

Sebastian began to speak through his chattering teeth, but his words were incomprehensible.

‘He was sensible for a short time,’ Captain Orrell disclosed. ‘But now it seems he has broken down again.’

‘Did he say what happened?’ Samuel asked, hunched over in the tiny space.

Orrell shook his head. ‘Apparently not.’

Sebastian suddenly leapt to his feet, making everyone gasp and step back with surprise. He launched himself off the ground and struck his head on a roof beam, then fell back onto the floor and began squealing, clutching his injured head. Master Glim and Lomar looked to each other with concern.

Sebastian looked up at them with watery eyes. ‘You are the ones that Ash sent,’ he stated.

‘No, we’re not,’ Master Glim replied. ‘Tell us, what happened here?’

‘Oh, yes you are,’ Sebastian went on, scratching frantically at his chin with all his fingers. He then pointed sharply to each of them in turn, almost accusingly. ‘He told us you were coming. I’m sure you are the ones.’

Master Glim looked to Lomar. ‘The Council sent us,’ he explained and Sebastian burst into giggles. ‘Do you find that amusing?’

‘Yes!’ Sebastian declared through squinting eyes and laughter.

Master Glim was losing his patience and so Lomar took over the interrogation.

‘Where is Master Ash?’ he asked in a patient tone, but Sebastian only giggled all the more. ‘What are you doing up here, Master Sebastian?’ he asked.

‘Hiding,’ the mad man told them with sudden seriousness. Snot was running freely from his nose, like a two-year-old child who had not yet learnt to clean it himself. ‘Everyone else is dead now, but I’m still alive. I won’t go outside. You can’t make me.’

‘Who killed them, Sebastian? Where did they come from?’

‘Here.’

‘Then where did they go?’ Lomar asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Sebastian explained. ‘I hid while the others were all killed. If only Balten were here. He could have saved them all.’

The name sounded familiar to Samuel and he caught sight of Lomar also raising an interested brow.

‘They’re all dead?’ Captain Orrell asked. ‘Who attacked you?’

‘Ti’luk,’ Master Sebastian responded.

Master Glim looked to Lomar and both their faces showed concern. Samuel was perplexed. Ti’luk meant hungry in the Old Tongue.

‘He’s not much use,’ Orrell said. ‘Bring him downstairs.’

They tried getting Sebastian to stand, but no amount of persuasion could get him to move from his corner in the attic. He wriggled from their hands and wedged himself tightly in the corner, screaming like a wild piglet. He was already covered in cuts and scratches and was only hurting himself further as he struggled against them.

‘Don’t worry,’ Orrell finally directed. ‘Leave him be. My men will drag him out whether he likes it or not.’

They waited downstairs while there was much screaming from Sebastian and much cursing from Orrell’s men. They eventually sent for a rope and dragged him out between them, tied hand and foot. Still, he thrashed wildly and the men had angry scratches and bite marks to show for their efforts. A gag had been tied around Sebastian’s mouth to stop his incessant crying and screaming.

By then, Tailor and Keller had finished their search for passages below.

‘There is an underground stream that runs beneath us along this entire rise,’ Keller told them. ‘I can’t tell whether or not it’s full of water or even accessible, but it is large enough for someone to pass through.’

‘Very well,’ Captain Orrell said. ‘I’ll send someone down.’

‘Lomar,’ Samuel began. ‘Do you think that one mage could have killed all the others-this Ti’luk.’

‘I don’t know. If he did, he may have escaped unseen. Orrell’s scouts would not have noticed if he was hidden by magic. He must be very strong to do all this. We should keep ready,’ and Samuel nodded in understanding.

One of Orrell’s men had dropped one end of a rope down the well with a lantern tied to its end. The rope that had originally been used with the well was gone, which meant either that someone had removed it or the well was unused.

‘It goes down quite a way, Captain,’ the man said, peering down. ‘I think I can see water. Shall I go down?’

Orrell nodded and the man prepared himself by taking off some of his light armour and removing his sword. They tied the top end of the rope to a great iron pin that was sticking out of the stones. The shaft was just the right size with rough stone walls, so that the man could press his back against one side and his feet against the other. With the aid of the rope, he began down.

‘What do you think made Sebastian lose his mind?’ Samuel whispered to Lomar beside him. ‘A spell?’

‘I don’t know, Samuel. I met him once, years ago, and he was sane then, but he could have lost his mind at any time. I wouldn’t trust anything he does or says. Still, I feel we must display caution here.’

Samuel nodded.

Grunts of exertion echoed up the shaft as the man steadily progressed down. ‘Hold on. I can see something moving!’ he called up. ‘Wait…there’s someone below!’

‘Captain,’ Master Glim urged. ‘Get your man up. If there’s someone down there, it’s not someone your man wants to meet alone.’

‘Get him up,’ Orrell barked out and then he called down the well. ‘Hold on tight. We’re pulling you up.’

They began heaving on the rope.

‘He’s coming up after me, Captain!’ the man in the shaft echoed up. His voice was carrying some hint of alarm. Samuel looked to Lomar and Master Glim and they both look uneasy. ‘Captain, he’s…get me up! Get me out of here!’ The man in the well was now screaming frantically. ‘Hurry! Hurry up! It’s coming after me!’

The men were all pulling and heaving as best as they could, while Captain Orrell peered down the well with concern etched on his face and one hand on the hilt of his sword. The frantic man could be heard climbing just below the top and Orrell’s hands went down to help him out. A pair of grubby hands came up and gripped the top of the well, followed by a terrified face as Orrell pulled his man out by the back of his shirt. The soldier toppled over the edge and sprawled on the ground, rolling away from the well and leaping to his feet with wild eyes.

‘It’s not a man!’ the soldier gasped between frantic breaths.

Captain Orrell took a look down the well and quickly stepped back. ‘Get back!’ he ordered and everyone nervously took a backwards step, Samuel included. Swords hissed out of their sheaths. Samuel and the magicians moved further back as something came up from the well.

A large, round, bald head, pale and swollen and devoid of ears, poked up from the shaft and eyed them with enormous, black, saucer eyes. It looked at them and it grinned as its oversized, tooth-laden mouth came into view. It was not human, and it was not animal. It was something else.

Behind them all, Sebastian was thrashing on the ground, his bonds tearing at his skin with his wild eyes fixed on the rising thing.

‘What, by the nine gods of old, is that?’ Keller asked. He was on the opposite side of the well to Samuel, and his face had suddenly drained white.

‘Bowmen, ready!’ Orrell called and five of his men stepped to the front, putting arrows to their bows and drawing their strings tight.

The creature continued up out of the well, carried by a set of long bony arms and equally disproportional legs. Its skin was a pasty white with long blue veins pulsing underneath, stretched tight over its bulbous, swollen sack of a stomach.

‘What is it?’ Samuel hissed.

‘Ti’luk,’ Lomar responded, his eyes never leaving the creature. Hungry.

The men all stepped back further as the thing clambered over the well and regarded them eagerly with its glinting, saucer eyes.

‘Master Glim!’ Captain Orrell called across. ‘What is that thing?’

‘I don’t know, Captain,’ came the answer. ‘But I recommend you kill it quickly.’

He had no sooner spoken than the creature snapped out an arm at blinding speed and grabbed Master Keller around the waist. Its reach was deceivingly far. He had no time to even scream as it pulled him in and bit into his shoulder. The limb snapped off in the creature’s mouth and it proceeded to finish it with a quick gulp. It was then that Keller began screaming, locked within its grip.

‘Loose!’ cried Captain Orrell and the creature was an immediate pincushion of arrows as the bowmen released their missiles into it. Their empty bows hummed in their hands and the bowmen stepped back.

Keller was skilfully avoided, but blood continued to gush from his ruined shoulder, spraying over the creature’s pallid skin. ‘Help me! By the gods help me!’ he screamed.

The creature ignored the shafts that hung from its body and took another bite from Keller, this time putting his howling head into its gaping mouth and snapping it off with a single chomp. Keller’s thrashing body fell limp.

Samuel could not believe his eyes. This hideous creature seemed born of his worst nightmares. How could such a thing exist? Not even in the spirit world of his dreams had he seen such a monstrosity. There, everything had been wispy and made of smoke, however horrible. This was all too real.

‘Kill it!’ Orrell ordered and a dozen men stepped in with their swords raised. The creature sprang up, dropping Keller’s lifeless body down the well as it leapt. It jumped clear over the swordsmen and landed amongst the astonished bowmen. Some found the sense to dive aside, but the creature grabbed a man in each arm and swung them both high into the air above its head and then back down into the ground with a spine-chilling snap of bones, its mouth wide open all the while with its horrid teeth laid bare.

One of Orrell’s men darted in to hack at it with his sword but its head rolled around, spying him. Just as quickly, one of its legs flashed out and grabbed him with its finger-like toes. It pulled him in and threw its face down upon him, burying the man impossibly in its mouth. It then raised its head again and, with a rattling gulp and a shake of its belly, Orrell’s man was gone. There was no hint as to the soldier’s existence, except his sword lying on the bare earth.

The man who had been down the well had found his feet and he ran for the gates, past other guards from outside, who were running in because of all the noise. Attracted by the attention, the creature dropped the two broken bodies and in three strides it was away from the group and had the fleeing man in its hand. It took only a snap of its neck and he was gone, vanished into its mouth as a chicken pecks up grain.

‘Cast your spells!’ Lomar said beside him, slapping Samuel on the arm as if to wake him, while Orrell and his men chased after the thing. They were slicing and hacking at it with their swords from all sides, but the creature avoided their strikes with lightning speed, retaliating with its arms, picking up the men one by one. Bodies flew against the keep walls with a terrible crunch of bones, or were picked up and shaken violently, breaking their backs and necks and ribs. The corpses were then thrown back at Orrell and his remaining men so that they had to avoid their own shattered comrades. When their swords did manage to meet the creature’s flesh, the blades bounced off as if striking the hardest of leathers.

‘Nothing works!’ Master Glim cried out. ‘I cannot harm it!’

Spells were flying from all the mages, but the creature was similarly unaffected. Samuel shook away the fear and made his own, trying to bind the creature’s limbs. The spell had formed true, yet the demon thing continued to dash the men to pieces around it. It should have been held stiff by his spell. He should easily be able to seize a creature of its size, but his weaves slid through it as if it did not exist.

‘Get back!’ the mage, Tailor, cried. He had levitated the wooden stable roof over and with a final effort, sent it crashing upon the beast. Some of the men, Orrell included, caught the motion in the corner of their eyes and dived aside. Others were showered with the splinters and debris as the roof slammed into the creature and cracked in half.

They scuttled back as the monster slowly pushed the roof aside and clambered unsteadily back onto its spindly legs. Bodies littered the ground all around and it surveyed the scene around itself calmly. Its face was devoid of emotion, yet it seemed to be searching for the source of its discomfort with its great unblinking eyes. It spied Tailor and a low, rumbling noise emanated from deep within its belly.

Tailor sensed his peril with wide eyes and turned to run, but the creature bound past Orrell’s men as they hacked at it, and it had him by the leg.

Samuel could see spells pummelling the creature from the Erics and Lomar and Master Glim, but the thing was undaunted as it tore the robes from Tailor’s body before dropping him into its gaping mouth to disappear into the depths of its stomach. It was barely twice the height of a man, and the impossibilities of its acts were perplexing. There was not enough space in its whole body to fit the men it had already swallowed, yet somehow, it had-and only wanted more.

Captain Orrell and the remainder of his men had gathered together. Samuel and the magicians stood in a similar cluster, discussing the situation. The creature looked between them, twisting its pale limbs around itself and rubbing its belly as if in anticipation of its imminent meals. It reminded Samuel of a huge, hideous old man with demonic distorted features.

‘I think we now know what happened to the people here,’ Eric mentioned.

Spying the still-bound, still-gagged body of Sebastian, the creature started leisurely towards him. In all the commotion, Sebastian had managed to wriggle some distance away and now, seeing the creature closing on him, he began wriggling frantically.

‘I’ve tried everything,’ Goodfellow said. ‘It seems impervious to sword and spell.’

‘But not physical blows,’ Master Glim noted. ‘That rooftop knocked it down for a moment. We need something similar…something larger,’ and he eyed the walls around him.

‘Let me try something first,’ Samuel said. He was not enraged as in the past, but he put his mind to summoning as much power as he could handle-he could feel the magic rushing into him, both terrible and sweet. The others stood back, sensing his summoning, but not knowing what to expect.

Pushing a terrible torrent of energy between his hands, Samuel willed all the magic he could muster through his trembling body. The others took a further step back as his spell began to hiss and spit in his hands. Sparks arced between his fingers, snapping and flashing from finger to finger with azure brilliance. All at once, Samuel felt he was on the verge of losing control, his muscles trembled to contain the growing spell between his palms, and so he released it with a shout of exertion, throwing his hands out towards the creature at the very last instant. The spell flew like an unholy comet, warping the air with its vigour and heat and trailing tendrils of lightning behind it. It struck the creature as it was dangling Sebastian above its gaping maw. There was a flash and a boom and Samuel fell, his legs buckling, as the earth rocked back and forth. The others also stumbled around him as they struggled to remain afoot.

A cloud of dust fell all around them. A building across the courtyard was half demolished, lying in ruins across the ground with one of the creature’s long legs jutting out from underneath. Sebastian’s lifeless body was hanging from the second floor, charred and blackened.

‘What was that?’ Goodfellow asked in disbelief, dusting himself off.

‘Just something I’ve been thinking about,’ Samuel replied groggily. His head already felt giddy and his muscles weak from the toll the spell had taken on him. He had used too much power and his debt had been accrued.

The creature stirred beneath the ruins and began dragging itself from the rubble, groaning loudly from its belly.

‘Can you manage another one?’ Lomar asked.

Samuel shook his head and almost fell over. Master Glim held onto him with both arms.

‘Then I think we’re in trouble,’ Goodfellow stated as the thing stood and took an unsteady step.

It suddenly bound hissing towards them on its long legs and Master Glim threw Samuel aside as it landed amongst them. Samuel found his senses and rolled back to his feet, feeling something slap at his legs. He was thrown onto his face once more, sending pain through his neck as it bent at a right angle. With blurred vision, he could see the monster standing over him. Then, the shadow of something large flashed overhead and the creature disappeared with it. A great boom followed and echoed from all around.

‘Get him out of here,’ someone called as the ground still shook.

Something gripped Samuel’s hand and began dragging him across the hard earth.

‘Get up!’ Goodfellow cried to him. He stopped pulling long enough for Samuel to find his feet and they both staggered into the building where Sebastian had hidden before. Goodfellow pushed him up the stairs and they went up into the attic to hide.

Samuel’s heart was racing in his chest as they sat in the near darkness. Shouts could still be heard from outside. ‘What is that thing?’ he said after a few moments.

‘I don’t know,’ Goodfellow returned. His spectacles were missing from his face. ‘I just hope they can stop it. It took your spell and then Lomar threw a piece of that building into it and it still kept going.’

‘They must have summoned it from some hell,’ Samuel said.

‘I don’t believe in any kind of hell,’ Goodfellow stated plainly. ‘There’s no such place.’

‘Until now, I didn’t believe in devils, but there’s one just outside-or something like it.’

‘What are we going to do, Samuel? We can’t wait here until it decides to come for us.’

‘I know. Let’s help the others kill it.’

‘Are you well enough?’

‘I have to be,’ Samuel replied. ‘At least now I’m starting to see straight.’

‘I can’t,’ Goodfellow replied, waving his hand before his squinting vision. ‘Actually, I can still see as long as it doesn’t get too close, but then, I don’t want to see it if it comes that close.’

‘I’ve got an idea!’ Samuel suddenly said. He leapt to his feet and began down the ladder. ‘Follow me!’

Treading carefully downstairs, Samuel was relieved to find that Master Glim and Lomar were waiting there, peering out the door and into the courtyard.

‘What’s it doing?’ Samuel asked and Master Glim nearly leapt out of his skin in fright.

‘Don’t do that, Samuel!’ the old teacher hissed, shaking his head. ‘You scared me half to death! It’s dropping the bodies down the well.’

‘A meal for later,’ Lomar added.

‘Where are the others?’ Goodfellow asked.

‘They’re trapped in another building,’ Master Glim replied. ‘I think that Eric is there, with Orrell and the last of his men.’

‘I have an idea,’ Samuel said.

‘What is it?’ Lomar asked, not taking his eyes off the door, lest the creature should come leaping through it.

‘Our spells don’t seem to affect that thing, but it’s still made of flesh and blood-of sorts. We know that by hitting it with something heavy enough, we can stun it, so if we can drop something even bigger on it, we may be able to kill it.’

‘That’s a logical assumption,’ Goodfellow stated. ‘But how can we get it to stand still while we push the walls in on it? It’s as quick as a fox.’

‘We need bait. I’ll go out and attract its attention while you all get everything you can and drop on it.’

‘And what about you, Samuel?’ Master Glim asked. ‘How will you stop it from tearing you apart and how will you not be crushed?’

‘I’ll form a spell shield. Everyone who’s been grabbed has been too terrified to protect themselves. If I make a strong enough shield, I can keep it at bay for long enough and the same shield will protect me from being crushed, as long as you dig me out as fast as you can afterwards. I should be safe.’

‘That’s ridiculous, Samuel,’ Master Glim said.

‘What else are we going to do? We can leap from the walls, but I’d bet that thing would catch us before we hit the ground. If we stay here, it will eventually come and find us when it’s hungry.’

‘True,’ Master Glim concurred. ‘Lomar, what do you think?’

‘It sounds difficult, but if we could get that thing to stay still long enough, I believe we can kill it. Samuel’s plan sounds fair.’

Samuel nodded back at Lomar in agreement. ‘Very well. Are you ready?’ The others nodded. Master Glim did not look pleased and Samuel did not think he had ever seen Goodfellow looking so doubtful. ‘Just don’t forget to tell Eric. We’ll need everyone to crush that thing and then get me out from underneath as quickly as you can.’

Samuel walked into the square. The creature was there, slowly dragging a couple of Orrell’s men towards the well without any hint of the vigour it had shown when killing them-there were few other bodies left. Samuel spied Orrell, peeking down from inside the half-demolished building. Samuel waved to him and Orrell returned a questioning glance.

As the creature’s head appeared back atop the well, it saw Samuel approaching and a groan echoed up from its ever-hungry belly. It proceeded to clamber out, never taking its wide eyes off him. Behind him, Samuel could sense the others moving into position. Hopefully, Goodfellow had gone in to tell Eric what to do.

‘Hello, monster,’ Samuel said as calmly as he could manage. The creature squatted upon its perch on the well and watched him approach. Samuel could feel his friends beginning to spell. He could see the walls and roofs around beginning to tremble and loosen. Loud cracks and bangs sounded as their spells began to do their work. He hoped they made a good job of it. He did not want to die for nothing.

He prepared his own spells, forming a firm barrier in the air before him, filling the spell with sand and grit, so it was not formed of mere magic alone. The creature took one tentative step down towards him, fixing him with its shiny gaze. There was a loud crack behind and Samuel winced. He turned and saw a portion of wall dislodge itself from the kitchen building and begin to rise into the air, but when he turned back, the monster was looming above him expectantly with its hundred-toothed grin.

Samuel squealed with uncontrolled fright and the creature lashed out with one pasty, white arm towards him. He threw his feet out and dropped onto the ground as its blood-stained fingers flew by his face. He remembered his shield and reformed the spell around him as quickly as he could.

The creature tilted its head and took a sideways step, as if examining him. It seemed to be able to feel his spell in place, for it did not attack immediately as he expected. It half circled him and stooped its head to examine closely. Samuel trembled and concentrated with all his might on maintaining his spell, for its breath was foul and acrid. He suddenly felt frail and weak beneath the awful thing’s unblinking gaze and he could feel his power waning. Putting its arm forward, the creature pushed its palm flat against Samuel’s shield, but it could not touch him through the spell, fortified as it was with tiny, earthen fragments. Then, the thing began to push harder and Samuel began to slide backwards on his backside, pushed within his own spell. Its hand began to come closer and so Samuel concentrated on his spell, pushing all his will into keeping the creature at bay. It continued to push him until his back was hard up against the well and then Samuel realised his mistake. The creature kept pushing, and, with nowhere to go, its grasping hand came ever closer towards his face. The stones at his back began to crack and fall away into the well shaft and still the creature pushed its claw in towards him. The air itself began to press on Samuel’s shoulders, making him feel as if he was already being buried in stone. Samuel pushed everything he could into his spell and the creature’s hand was inches from his cheek, when a voice called out from afar.

‘Samuel! Now!’

He did not know whose voice it was, but immediately after he heard it, it seemed the sky fell down. A great slab of stone shattered upon the monster’s head and rained pieces of rubble all around. Samuel’s shield was battered and he felt his body tremble with each blow. Huge lengths of stone and wood began pelting down upon him, shaking his bones and deafening his ears. With dread, he realised his shielding spell was terribly underprepared to match such weight.

Samuel looked up to see another greater mass of stone, an entire length of wall carried by the spells of Master Glim and Lomar, looming above him. The creature spied it too and forced itself to stand up with a guttural snarl from its throat, shaking the broken rubble from its shoulders. Just then, the spells carrying the great length of wall vanished, and Samuel threw himself backwards into the well as cracking thunder struck around him.

The earth shook with a deafening roar as Samuel plummeted into the darkness. Stones and dust were in his throat and eyes as he fell. He just realised he should try to slow his descent with a spell, when he slammed into shallow water and then felt rubble and ruins tumble atop of him, striking his back and head and pushing him further under water. His hands found earth underneath and he pushed his head up and into the air and took a great breath. Dust filled his lungs and set him into a choking fit as he put his sleeve over his face to filter the air. He readied himself to be buried alive, as more pebbles and stones continued to fall; but instead of smothering him, the rain of asphyxiating fragments gradually subsided. When the shaking had eventually come to a stop, Samuel found himself in utter darkness.

He stood, feeling water up to his knees, but he could see nothing. The air was full of dust and Samuel gagged and coughed until he pulled his shirt up over his mouth. After a few moments, he gathered his wits and strained to look above for some hint of sunlight or some sound of rescue, but the well was deep and his ears still rang from all the noise of just before. He summoned a mage-light and it burst into life beside him, illuminating the bottom of the well with its bluish hue. Far above, he could see that the shaft was blocked and ruined, and dust and rubble continued to drop down on him. Samuel did not like to assume the stone would stay there, precariously balanced as it was. He thought it best if he moved rather quickly before his luck ran any lower.

An underground tunnel was visible in the gloom, leading away in opposite directions. He would have to find somewhere safe to stay until his friends dug him out. This was not quite what he had in mind when he had made his plan, but he was alive and it would have to do for now. His friends would find him eventually. It just might take them some time to move the masses of earth that lay above-assuming the creature was, indeed, dead.

To stay here was quite unsafe, so Samuel regarded his two choices of direction thoughtfully. The beast had dragged the bodies somewhere, so he knew that there was a fair amount of space down here-enough to store those men at least. Samuel then had a dreadful thought that had him looking over his shoulder into the dark corners-he hoped there was only one such creature living in this well.