The Shrike was a giant bird with long black feathers. The wingspan was as wide as Fletcher was tall, the endmost feathers tipped with bleached white. Its lethal beak was hooked cruelly, with a bright red wattle underneath its neck and a red ridge along the top of its head like that of a rooster. It reminded Fletcher of an enormous, ugly vulture.
The bird demon dived towards Lovett, its bright orange talons outstretched. She ducked down, but it was too late; the talons scored along her helmet with brutal accuracy. They caught in the helmet’s cage, dragging her over on to her back. The hooked beak stabbed down again and again, yet all it did was dent the copper helmet.
‘Pull her in!’ Fletcher yelled. ‘She has Valens in her hand!’
He grabbed the tether and heaved, stretching the thick leather until it creaked under the strain. The others soon followed suit, even Isadora daintily clutched the lead and pulled with the others. They made fast progress, extracting several feet of it through the crackling portal. Fletcher glanced back at the scrying stone, but could only see flashes of feathers against the bronze sky as the demon continued to peck violently.
The strain on the leather lifted as Lovett managed to stumble to her feet, then she fell through the portal in a tangle of limbs. Even as the group began to cheer, their voices caught in their throats as realisation dawned. She was not alone.
The Shrike emitted a harsh caw, then spread its wings wide and stepped on to the ground, standing almost as tall as a man. It squinted its fierce yellow eyes in the dim light then advanced in a strange, hopping motion, like it was playing a macabre game of hopscotch. Lovett lay motionless on the ground – something was terribly wrong.
‘Stand back!’ Tarquin yelled, putting himself squarely in the Shrike’s way. Fletcher may have disliked the boy, but he was impressed. Tarquin had some courage.
The young noble kneeled quickly and put his hands on the ground, powering up the nearest pentacle. In moments a demon formed above it, then charged at the Shrike without hesitation.
Tarquin’s demon was a Hydra, with three reptilian heads on long, powerful necks, like a trio of snakes attached to the body of a monitor lizard. They weaved and snapped at the Shrike, darting this way and that as the bird demon was driven back towards the portal. They were well matched, since Tarquin’s demon was large enough to ride, though much of its height comprised of neck. The Hydra’s legs were short, but each foot was equipped with thick black claws that tore into the leather with every step.
‘Nothing can stand against Trebius!’ Tarquin yelled as the Shrike squawked with confusion at the three pronged attack.
Fletcher ignored the fight and circled around to Lovett. She must have been conscious, as the portal was still open, but her body was as still as a corpse. Valens was twitching in her open hand, buzzing as the Shrike battled Tarquin’s demon. The little Mite wanted to help, but did not have the strength.
‘I’ll get a teacher!’ Genevieve yelled, then ran out of the door.
Fletcher kneeled beside Lovett and dragged her out of harm’s way, then removed her helmet with care. His eyes widened at what he saw beneath. Her mouth was foaming with froth and both eyes were rolled so far back that all he could see was white. The poor woman’s head bounced punishingly on the leather as her body was wracked with convulsions. Fletcher had no idea how she was still holding the portal open.
‘The poison!’ Fletcher gasped with horror, trying to cushion the back of her skull with his hands. His eyes fell on the helmet and he saw a deep crack in the glass on the front. The Shrike’s claws must have damaged it in the first attack.
He turned to the bird demon in anger, watching as it stopped just a few feet from the portal. In such close proximity, the fear of the portal seemingly outweighed its fear of Trebius. The Shrike took a hesitant step forward and stabbed its beak at the nearest Hydra head, drawing blood and a cry of dismay from Tarquin. But the noble did not need to fight alone.
‘Ignatius!’ Fletcher yelled, powering up the pentacle nearest to him and summoning his demon with an angry blast of mana. The Salamander formed in but a moment, then leaped into the fray with a screech.