He had to remind himself that orcs had been summoning long before humans, and though he daren’t suggest it to Sylva, possibly before the elves had too.
Khan bellowed another order when the etching stopped. A strange ring of double helix hung in the air above the pentacle, and the shamans’ hands glowed blue as they pumped mana into the symbol. Soon, the ring became a disk of spinning blue light, moving faster than Fletcher could follow.
The orc shamans began to wail and chant, raising their voices against the roar of the spell. As their voices reached a crescendo, Khan knelt on the floor and pressed a small knob on the platform. It sank into the stone and a rumble echoed throughout the pyramid. The clank and screech of machinery echoed from the ceiling just above Fletcher’s head. For a moment Khan stared up at the noise and Fletcher ducked behind the beam, his heart fluttering in his chest like a caged bird.
It was only when he heard the slosh of liquid in the pipe beside him that curiosity compelled him to peek again. What he saw was sickening.
Blood gushed from the pipe and into the hole at the centre of the pentacle, pulsing like a severed artery. As the fluid passed through the spell it frothed and sizzled, the consistency becoming viscous, the colour verging on black. Far below, the liquid clotted and congealed over the gremlin eggs, oozing out of holes at the base of the pillar and into the trench. Then, the eggs began to throb, palpitating in the water as they grew in size, spilling out of the trench and filling the pit right to the edges.
A whispered curse from the darkness beside him told him he was not the only one who had seen it. Soon the blood from the pipe had reduced to no more than a trickle. The spell flickered and faded, the shamans collapsing to the ground with exhaustion. Fletcher’s palms prickled with sweat as he contemplated the gruesome ritual. The blood from the blue orcs had a purpose after all.
Khan grunted with approval, reaching into a pouch at his waist and slipping a hunk of meat into his Salamander’s mouth. It gobbled it up greedily, gulping it down with two birdlike jerks of its head.
The albino orc snarled another order and the adepts scrambled to queue up behind him, stringing themselves out across the bridge. Each took a bunch of the yellow petals from the sack, and even Khan snatched a fistful. Together, they stuffed them into their mouths, chewing and swallowing with audible gulps. The younger orcs grimaced at the taste, one even dry heaving before forcing it down with a swig of water from a gourd at his hip.
Fletcher wondered whether it was some sort of drug or poison, to numb their bodies or dull their senses. They certainly seemed to sway on their feet, though whether it was out of fear or the effect of stimulants, he couldn’t be sure.
After a moment’s pause, Khan spoke again, his rough speech bringing the shamans to their knees. They bowed their heads in deference, avoiding Khan’s eyes. Each dipped their fingers in the pentacle’s blood, one hand in the key on their point of the star, another in the star itself.
‘The orc keys!’ Sylva whispered, just loud enough for Fletcher to hear.
Fletcher’s heart leaped, and he had to cover his mouth to stop himself from gasping. The coordinates to the orcs’ part of the ether were below – their best-kept secret revealed for all to see. He hadn’t noticed until the carvings had filled with blood.
Fletcher waved his hand frantically at Lysander, until he caught the Griffin’s attention. He motioned below, miming the symbols, and the Griffin leaned out from his perch, risking all to get the best view of the scene below.
Fletcher knew that all over Hominum, people would be carefully copying them down. Even if they failed in their mission, it would not have been in vain. They had achieved something that Hominum had long given up on.
With the coordinates to the orc’s part of the ether, Hominum’s summoners would be able access an entirely different ecosystem, with new demons to capture. It would change the war irrevocably in their favour, and it was Fletcher’s team that had made it happen.
The symbols in question began to glow blue, as did the pentacle, the blood within them sizzling and popping as the mana flowed into it. It was not long before a glowing sphere expanded in the air, a spinning portal to the ether. The ball was enormous, far larger than any Fletcher had seen before. As he watched it rotate, a dull throb filled the room, ebbing and rising with every revolution of the orb.
Spitting yellow pulp from his mouth and holding his torch aloft, Khan strode forward, until he stood but an inch away from the portal. He scowled at the adepts, his red eyes flicking from one to the next. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he disappeared into the portal.