The next day, he was able to divert them all and then Sammy tried increasing her intensity, which led to new problems for him. The sound barrier seemed able to divert almost any flame, but he had to adjust it appropriately. Over time, he found that even if an attack started to come through, he could retune the barrier and divert the rest.

  “What do you think it would do to other things?” asked his cousin.

  “Like what?”

  She picked up a fist-sized stone and threw it at him without warning. Parts of the exterior flaked away, showering him with dust, while more than half stayed together, striking him solidly in the breastplate. Stubborn as ever, he took up the challenge, immediately telling her, “Try again.” He changed the frequency and increased the intensity of his barrier, causing the second stone to shatter into pea-sized fragments that peppered him all over.

  Half an hour later, he was able to reduce most of the stones to a cloud of dust. He’d also discovered they required more energy to stop than simple flames. As they were finishing for the day, Sammy walked up to the edge of his barrier and pointed at it with one finger. “What would it do to a person, I wonder?”

  Will had a good idea already. He decreased the frequency and lowered the intensity. “It won’t hurt you now. Try it.”

  “You sure?” she asked, but before he could answer, she poked the tip of her index finger into the shield. “Ooh!” Sammy jerked her hand back, then tried again. “It feels really weird, and it makes your hand go numb, but it’s almost like there’s something physical there that you have to push through.”

  He nodded. “I’m getting better at anticipating how it will affect different things, but I’m certain if I tune it correctly, it would do the same thing to your hand that it did to the rocks.”

  “Perhaps we shouldn’t test it then,” she suggested. The day was ending, so they started back up the mountain to meet the others. As they rode the travel disk, Sammy asked, “You never told me exactly why you’re trying this new shield. Won’t a force spell stop anything your sound barrier does, only better?”

  “Anything I’ve had thrown at me before, yes.”

  “Then what’s this new shield for?”

  “It’s for something that nothing else will stop, hopefully,” he replied.

  Chapter 41

  The next day, Aislinn informed him that they were almost ready. “What does almost mean?” asked Will. “I can’t risk this until I’m sure they can open that gate.”

  Serene as always, the fae queen responded, “They can do it. I’ll have them open test gates starting tomorrow. Samantha will be necessary for that, of course, so you’ll have to occupy yourself.”

  Will scratched his beard. He’d neglected it for too long and was now becoming unruly. “Tomorrow, eh? I assume you’re suggesting I make the deal today.”

  “Even if they agree, they will need time to make arrangements. Given your time requirements, it would be best to have them start while we finish here.”

  “I’ve been anxious to start anyway,” said Will. “Waiting just makes me doubt myself more. May I ask you a question?”

  His grandmother answered immediately, “So long as it relates to this task, certainly. If not, there will be a price.”

  “I’m curious about your opinion regarding Grim Talek’s reaction to what we’re doing,” he explained.

  She nodded. “That’s acceptable.”

  Will waited, but she said nothing. Feeling foolish he realized he still had to explicitly state the question. “What do you think the lich will do when he discovers my change to the plan?”

  “In my experience, both while I was human and—in the years since—he is rational and unemotional. Although he has a reputation for cruelty, I’ve observed that it stems mainly from his complete disregard for pain and suffering rather than any actual enjoyment from inflicting torment. From that, I surmise he has few emotions left. Grim Talek is driven purely by reason. Given that your plan might jeopardize the end result, he will not like it. Assuming you succeed, he will accept it without spite, but I am certain his trust in your future actions will be lessened. If you fail, he will make good on his threats against your loved ones.”

  That was essentially what Will had thought as well. Glancing up at the sky, he could see that it would soon be midmorning. No point in delaying, he thought. He took Sammy and Emory back to Rimberlin House, telling them they could have a day to rest. He also made a point of leaving Evie there, fearful she might react badly if she saw the demon he planned to summon.

  He teleported back, using Tailtiu as his beacon, but after arriving, he discovered the Cath Bawlg was there as well. Studying the cat, he asked, “How did you get here?”

  As she so often did, Evie ignored the question. “I know you can understand me,” he insisted. “How did you get here?” When she continued to ignore him, Will tried a different tactic. When he was in the astral plane, she could respond directly to him, mind to mind, so he left his body.

  Standing intangibly beside his now empty body, he demanded, “Answer me, Evie.”

  I go where I please, she replied.

  “You don’t know how to teleport, though.”

  I’ve seen you travel often enough. I merely followed. I can always find what is mine.

  Will chuckled. “I belong to you? I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

  From the day I first opened my eyes. Before I learned any of your words. I knew what belonged to me. That is how I found you.

  “You mean today, or when you first came to Rimberlin House?”

  Yes.

  The imprecision of her answer was frustrating, but he figured she meant both occasions, so he let it pass. “I’m going to talk to an enemy today, a dangerous foe. I don’t want you to interfere.”

  I do as I please.

  “This is important. You may recognize them and want to attack, but it’s important that you don’t. Not today anyway,” he told her.

  I have no enemies, although I did not like the dragon. I have met no others who I despise.

  Will didn’t think he could get any better reassurances, so he simply reiterated his point. “If you suddenly get angry today, control yourself. I need this in order to kill the dragon.” She didn’t respond, so he returned to his body. It was a second later that he realized he’d left it standing without support and yet still managed to keep his balance.

  “Every day brings small improvements,” he muttered, hoping the summoning would also lead to success.

  Aislinn and Tailtiu left, to avoid being seen during the summoning, lest the presence of the fae affect his negotiation. Things had gone badly for the demons after their last deal with the fae, though that wasn’t his grandmother’s fault. Her people had fulfilled their part of the bargain.

  Alone except for his cat, Will swept his hand in a wide arc, using a simple spell to clean away the runes that his grandmother and Emory had inscribed for their ritual practices. That done, he used a complementary spell to begin putting down a new set.

  The spell was similar to the coloring spell he’d learned at Wurthaven, except it only imbued color to places his fingertip directly touched. It was excellent for the task, since he could write on any surface with it and the writing could only be removed with similar magic. Tracing thick lines of red on the stone between the two circles, Will began placing his runes.

  The ritual he was using was barely a ritual, since he was performing it alone, but it did require similar preparation. Unlike the runes used in Arlen Arenata’s summoning circle, Will’s were far simpler, since he was omitting most of the functions included in hers. There was no punishment function, no defensive barrier, no binding—his circle had only one purpose, to call the entity he named.

  Most people would say that attempting to summon a demon with such a complete lack of safeguards was reckless. Even the demon priests of Shimera wouldn’t take those kinds of risks, but Will wasn’t most people. According to Grim Talek’s sources, the demons would be hesitant to answer his call, given that he’d already slain two demon-lords, including Madrok himself, who had ruled Hell for uncounted millennia. Leaving out the normal protections, summoners used was a deliberate attempt to entice Will’s target.

  Thirty minutes of work saw his runes laid out, a simple sequence repeated many times until both ends met. With but a single drop of blood, which would identify him as the summoner, Will completed the circle. Then he seized hold of the energies hidden beneath him and drove his power into the runes, uttering the name of the one he sought. “Nalarin, hear my call.”

  Will knew little of the various demon-lords, but Grim Talek’s Shimeran servants possessed great volumes of information, much of it historical, and they had current knowledge as well. According to them, Nalarin was the closest demon-lord to gaining ascendance over the others, though she still hadn’t fully consolidated her power.

  He waited, keeping the turyn flowing through the circle, but no response came. Keeping the circle active was a chore, for though it was only a summoning, the magic provided a path for the recipient to follow when answering the call. In essence, a summoning spell served as a type of temporary interplanar teleport. Hell was a difficult place to reach from Hercynia, so the turyn of the ley lines was needed to create a link to cross the distance between planes.

  An hour passed, and Will repeated Nalarin’s name several times, but never felt a response. The effort of maintaining the summoning was beginning to wear on his nerves. “Nalarin, answer me. I can do this all day. If you don’t answer today, I will do this again tomorrow, and the next day.” Fifteen minutes more passed without answer. “Nalarin, ignore me at your peril. I have an offer that will profit you, but annoy me and I will pursue you, even if I must enter Hell itself.”

  Will felt something then, a nibble at the end of his line, like a fish tasting the bait. Seconds later, something seized hold, and a squat ugly figure materialized within the circle.

  He had expected more. The demon in front of him was barely four feet tall, roughly humanoid with mottled grey skin and bulbous, distorted limbs. Unlike Leykachak with his dark armor and imposing figure, or Madrok with his unearthly grace, this demon seemed coarse and vulgar. The miasma of demonic turyn wafted around it like smoke, but the presence of the demon was hardly impressive. As his eyes drifted over it, he noticed a small sign tied around the demon’s neck with a single word written in demon blood.

  Will didn’t recognize the letters. “Who are you?”

  “I am Keteg,” said the demon. “Sent to answer in Nalarin’s place.” He pointed at the sign, reading it aloud, “Nalarin.”

  Confused for a moment, realization finally dawned on him. Rather than come herself, the demon-lord had made a sign with her name, written in her own blood, and hung it on one of her subordinates so he could answer in her stead. He stared at the unfortunate lackey, surprised by Nalarin’s childish solution. She’s really scared to meet me.

  Will laughed. “Tell your mistress I have no hostile intentions, so long as she treats with me in a civilized manner. Those who died before her were extinguished for different reasons. Leykachak because he failed to respect my wishes and bargain properly, and Madrok because he came at someone else’s behest. If he had not accepted the wrong deal and brought the fight to me, I would never have had to slay him.”

  Keteg watched him suspiciously, then examined his surroundings. “There’s no barrier, no binding—did you intend to summon an imp?”

  “Such things are necessary only when facing a greater power.” He looked the demon up and down derisively. “I need no protection from one such as you.”

  “My mistress is no lesser demon. She is first among the great powers of Hell.”

  Will sneered, “First among the remaining powers of Hell, and I’ve heard that even that is in doubt. If she is bold enough to make a deal with me, her primacy will be assured.”

  Keteg’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Tell me your offer. I will relay it to her.”

  “I offer nothing,” snapped Will. “Tell her if she wishes to pay a fair price for a great victory, then she will speak with me directly.”

  The demon lackey considered his words briefly, then asked, “You will summon her with this circle, as it is?”

  Will nodded. “Unless she prefers I come down and visit her personally, though I doubt she would find that conversation as pleasant as the one I would like to have at the moment.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Try me. If she finds the lack of barrier or binding to be such a temptation, I invite her to try and exploit my lack of protection. She’s welcome to try, but only once. My goodwill and patience will only go that far.” Before Keteg could answer, Will commanded, “Go, tell her.” Then he cut the power to the summoning and watched the demon fade away, unable to muster the strength to keep himself in Hercynia without Will’s aid.

  A demon-lord would be a different matter. Nalarin would likely have the strength to keep the summoning active, for a while at least, so Will couldn’t count on being able to dismiss her so simply if she came. Will took advantage of the brief reprieve to sit down and close his eyes. Maintaining the circle for so long had fatigued him.

  Let her think I’m making her wait, he thought with a smile. A quarter of an hour passed while he recuperated. He was still tired when he stood up again, but he was confident he would be capable enough for the task ahead. Reactivating the circle, he made the invitation again. “Nalarin, come treat with me. Riches await the bold.”

  The ley lines thrummed beneath his feet, seeming to shake the mountain as the demand for turyn increased a hundred-fold. The greater the demon crossing over, the more energy the summoning demanded. Will channeled the power without trouble, though he was reminded of yet another reason for barriers and bindings: While he channeled the necessary power to sustain the circle, it would be a drain on his will should Nalarin decide to challenge him. Maintaining such a vast flow from the ley lines would handicap him, like a fighter with one hand tied behind his back.

  Madrok had been insanely strong, and though Will knew he’d grown since then, he still wasn’t sure he was as capable as he wanted Nalarin to believe. He pushed that thought aside as a demonic form slowly took shape before him. She was shrouded by a strange smoke that obscured everything but two glowing red eyes, or rather that was probably her intention.

  Will’s vision adjusted almost reflexively, piercing the haze and revealing the sinister woman within. He’d imagined she would come as a seductive temptress, something like Tailtiu but with horns and an attitude, but instead Nalarin was clad in heavy demon-steel plate.

  The armor wasn’t for show, either. The breastplate was smooth and rounded for optimum protection, forgoing the ridiculous artistic breasts that some armorers included for female wearers. If he hadn’t known beforehand that Nalarin was female, he wouldn’t have been able to guess from seeing the armor. The black armor was dark and deadly, with aggressive spikes on the elbows and knees.

  He started with a backhanded compliment. “Nice armor. I’m flattered you felt the need for it.”

  Realizing her smoke was useless, the demon-lord released it, coming fully into view. “Do not waste my time. What is your offer?” Nalarin’s voice echoed hollowly from the nightmarishly sculpted helm that concealed her face. It gave her head the appearance of a grotesquely fanged ape.

  “I offer nothing for free,” Will reiterated. “I desire an exchange of goods. Souls for driktenspal.” Driktenspal was the name used for the black metal mined and refined in Hell’s forges.

  “Driktenspal is too rare. We will not trade,” she answered. It was then that she flexed her will, attempting to seize the turyn of the ley lines.

  Will clamped down, smothering her effort before realizing her intent. He understood it a moment later; she’d intended to sever the connection, returning herself to Hell. Holding onto the flows with the tenacity of a steel vise, he smiled at the armored demoness. “I will count that as your one attempt on me. The next will be taken as a sign you’ve chosen death.”

  In his mind’s eye, Will imagined the panic that Nalarin must be feeling, for she couldn’t leave while he kept a grip on the magic around them. Without a binding circle, she wouldn’t have expected to be trapped thus. The obvious answer would be to attack him then, while he was vulnerable and preoccupied with maintaining the circle. Tense seconds passed before she eventually asked, “How much do you seek?”

  “A full ton.”

  Her voice was incredulous. “So much cannot be found without plundering the weapons and armor caches of half of Hell’s lords. Even if you could pay enough for such a fortune.”

  “How much can you get, then? Since your resources are so limited.” Will’s tone openly derided the paucity of her wealth.

  A shiver ran through the turyn around them, a subtle sign that Nalarin was considering another attempt, but it resolved and then she answered, “Half that. But the price will be more than you can pay.”

  “I’m willing to open a gate from Hercynia to Hell and keep it open for a full day, during which time you can pillage freely, taking as many souls as you have demons to haul them back.”

  Nalarin straightened slightly, then replied, “A gate into a barren desert is no prize.”

  “The gate will open from the place of your choice in Hell to the city of Spela in Shimera. Hundreds of thousands live there, and thousands upon thousands more in the surrounding region. With efficient use of your time, you might manage to take a million humans back with you.”

  “You lie. You can’t compel the Shimerans to allow such a thing.”

  Will gave her a malignant grin. “You admit that my proposal is generous, then.”

  “It is, if it is real,” she agreed.

  “I’ll stake my life on it with a blood-oath if you make the pact with me,” he announced. Unlike the fae, who were incapable of breaking their word, and who could travel freely to the human realm, demons were quite capable of deceit and betrayal. Humans were deceitful as well, and since the denizens of Hell couldn’t reach Hercynia without aid, they had often had no easy recourse if a promise was broken. Blood-oaths were the necessary result, a magic created by warlocks to ensure the integrity of their agreements.