At the Gates of Darkness (Demonwar Saga Book 2)

Looking down, they could just see the game trail they had climbed vanish below them into a low lying bank of heavy mist. The heavy marine air that rolled in off the sea at sundown, would usually burn off by midmorning, but natural barriers like the cliff face could hold it in place for longer if it was thick, although the mist would never extend far inland.

 

Nearing the top of the bluff, they saw no sign of any other living thing, but they continued to move with exhausted caution. Neither of them had enough reserves left for a fight or a dash. Besides, where would they flee to?

 

The bluff swept away on both sides as they came to a cut at the top of the trail and found themselves on a plateau. Even without the fog, there was little light, the sliver of moon provided only faint illumination.

 

Scrub and a few scrawny trees dominated the landscape: a vague tangle of shadows and patterns of dark grey and black aided by the weak distant glow in the distance.

 

‘Demons?’ asked Laromendis quietly.

 

‘No closer than they were,’ answered his brother.

 

‘I suggest we just sit and wait for dawn.’

 

Gulamendis squatted on the ground, then slowly stretched out his legs. After a moment, he said, ‘No,’ and rose quietly.

 

‘No, what?’ asked his brother, on the verge of sitting.

 

‘You rest. I’ll stay awake.’

 

‘Why?’ said Laromendis, despite the fact he didn’t intend to argue over it.

 

‘You have spent the last three days spinning illusions while I have only pointed a wand now and again. We both know I have no control over demons if their captains or lords are around, and even if I could command one, there are dozens running around us.

 

‘You need rest more than I do, and if we need any talent tomorrow, it will be your skill at conjuration. I’ll sleep tomorrow if we can find a safe place.’

 

‘You have no idea how long we have until dawn. The sun may have set only an hour ago.’

 

‘I have no idea how long night is on this world, either, but it doesn’t matter. Sleep and I’ll keep watch.’

 

Not wishing to argue any more, Laromendis put his head on his arm. It wasn’t the first time he had been forced to sleep on the ground, and he welcomed the hard soil beneath him as if it were as soft as a feather mattress.

 

Despite his claims to the contrary, Gulamendis was as fatigued as his brother, but was determined to stay alert. His awareness of the demons made it far easier, and while he knew he flirted with exhaustion, he managed to fight it and stay awake.

 

The hours dragged by and the Demon Master shivered while his body heat slowly dried his clothing. He wondered how his brother had managed to fall so quickly into a slumber, then laughed silently at the question; had he the opportunity, he would also have been fast asleep on the ground in an instant.

 

He studied the night sky. He knew little about the skies of any world, it wasn’t an area of interest, so the idea that he might recognize a constellation or any other astral sign and be able to discern their location from it was no more than an idle thought.

 

Moving and humming absently, to keep awake while his brother slept, he wondered at the strange course of events that had brought him here, and how they had in some strange way, brought him closer to Laromendis than they had ever been.

 

As children they had shared an interest in all things magical, and as initiates into the Circle of Light, they had shared their early training; but when the Regent’s Meet had disbanded the Circle and, according to rumours, conspired to murder some of their more powerful members, the brothers had been separated for years.

 

They had later discovered that their paths might have crossed on several occasions during that time. They had even lived on opposite sides of the same island for the better part of a year without realizing, although—as his brother had wryly pointed out—Gulamendis had stayed in a cave high in the hills, while Laromendis had resided in the island’s sole town, working as a labourer while the purging of the Circle had continued.

 

Only the Demon Legion’s onslaught had staved off further persecution of the remaining members of the Circle. Gulamendis was certain that others still hid, but most had answered the call of their people, and had been welcomed back to Andcardia when the Regent’s Meet granted them amnesty.

 

Amnesty for all but the Demon Masters. Fate had spared Gulamendis, for only days before he arrived at the Regent’s court his brother had ‘volunteered’ for the mission to seek out a refuge for the taredhel should the demons overrun their capital. Because of Laromendis, Gulamendis had been kept in a cage but had been allowed to live; most of the Demon Masters hadn’t been so fortunate.

 

The sky lightened and the black shapes resolved into greys and lighter greys. The Demon Master waited until he could see trees above them clearly enough to chance moving through them, and then he shook his brother awake.

 

Laromendis came around instantly, but it was clear he was still exhausted. He glanced about them and nodded. Without further communication the two elves moved into the woods.

 

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