Fletcher had a brief recollection of Ignatius eating a brown beetle when he had first summoned him, but that thing had been much smaller than any of the Mites he had seen. It was probably a different species.
‘Right, let’s get this show on the road. You must push the mana through the demon and into the stone like this,’ she said, laying her free hand over Valens.
The gemstone turned black. As she removed her hand the colour changed again. At first, Fletcher thought the gemstone had become a mirror, finding himself staring at an image of his own face. But soon the image flicked to Seraph’s.
‘You are now looking through Valens’s eyes. It is a technique that we call scrying, very useful for scouting and controlling your demons from afar. We can already sense the demon’s thoughts. Now we can also see and hear what they can in the crystal. It is essential to check what is on the other side of the portal with your least important demon before entering the ether. Should there be something dangerous on the other side when he comes through, it will be Valens at risk rather than Lysander. Because a Mite is smaller and more agile, he is less likely to be noticed and can escape more easily.’
The image shook as Valens buzzed into the air and hovered just in front of the spinning blue orb. Lovett clicked her tongue, and with that, the demon whipped into the orb like a gunshot.
The first thing Fletcher saw in the stone was the red-tinged ground. Fine grains of rusty sand swirled above it, churned into dust devils by a seething wind. The sky was the orange of sunrise, yet it held no warmth, nor was there a source of light in the sky. Stunted trees dotted the landscape, their sparse branches contorted in rigor mortis. There was no life here, just a dry husk of a land long dead.
‘Perfect,’ Lovett said. ‘We have emerged in the deadlands.’
‘Deadlands?’ Rory asked in an awestruck voice.
‘Entering the ether is not an exact science. There is a large margin of error in where we might come out. The deadlands come with positives and negatives, depending on your purpose. There will be nothing to surprise you here, but if you are trying to capture a demon, you will have to drag it quite a distance to get back to the portal. If I was hunting, I would close this portal and open a new one, but for the purposes of this exercise it is ideal. The deadlands are between the void and the outer circle of the inhabited ether.’ Lovett’s voice was strained. Fletcher could see a vein pulsing in her forehead. Entering the ether must take a lot of power and concentration.
Valens turned and flew away from the portal, his altitude rising steadily. It was silent in the room, the only sound Lovett’s heavy breathing, as the minutes ticked by. The landscape seemed to get even more desolate, with fewer and fewer trees until all they could see was flat, raw earth.
‘How do you know where to go?’ Tarquin asked. ‘It all looks the same to me.’
Fletcher realised that was a good question. The young noble was a lot of things, but he was not stupid.
‘The portal always faces the centre of the ether when your demon comes out, so you are orientated as soon as you enter. Additionally, all demons are drawn to the centre instinctually and they have an internal compass that tells them where it is. I can guide myself using this, but it takes practice and is not very accurate. That is why it is always risky entering the ether. I can only hold the portal open for so long and if I close it before Valens gets through, our bond will be broken, and I will lose him,’ Lovett lectured back. Tarquin opened his mouth to ask another question but Fletcher got there first.
‘What do you mean by the centre? Does that mean the ether has a shape?’ he asked, trying to understand.
‘As far as we know, the ether is disk shaped. The weaker demons tend to stay in the outer rings, with more powerful demons gravitating to the centre. There seems to be a rudimentary food chain, with low-level Mites on the very bottom, closest to the deadlands.’
Tarquin began to speak again but Lovett held up a hand to silence him.
‘Save your questions for later. It is hard enough holding the portal open and guiding Valens without thinking of answers for you.’ Even as she spoke, the pentacle flickered. She grunted and it glowed a steady violet once again.
Despite the intensity of the lesson, Fletcher felt himself relax, perhaps for the very first time. Everyone was learning something here, even Tarquin. It all made so much sense to Fletcher, as if he were remembering something long forgotten. He was meant for this.
The horizon began to fall away, darkening dramatically. The glow of the sky faded into a pure, starless black, yet the little Mite flew higher and higher. Finally he stopped and turned his view downwards once again.