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“That must be confusing.”
“Yes. But it's confusing for him too.” Dervish holds an axe up to the light of a thick candle and squints, judging the sharpness of its blade. “Lord Loss is an accomplished player, and he's had centuries to work on his game, but he has no supernatural advantage. If I keep my head, focus on the moves, and don't lose my nerve, I'll stand a fair chance.”
“What sort of chance do I stand against Artery and Vein?” I ask.
Dervish looks at me coldly — then whips his arm forward and sends the axe flying straight at me!
Instant reaction — I spin — my left hand flies out — my fingers close around the axe handle mid-air — I arc it down, taking the speed out of it — then raise it high to defend myself, heart racing, confused and afraid.
Then I see my uncle's grin.
Breathing hard, I stare at Dervish, then at the axe in my hand.
“That sort,” he says.
“I still don't know how I caught it,” I grumble, as Dervish searches among his books for a particular volume.
/> “You don't have to know,” Dervish says. “It's magic.” He pauses and looks up at me. “Your instincts have been sharpened by your previous encounter with the demons. Obey those instincts. Let Vein and Artery set the tone and pace of the battle. React. Don't think. Suspend the laws of reality completely.”
Dervish returns his attention to the books, finds the one he's after, flicks it open, and stands. “Make your inexperience work for you,” he says. “You can't out-plan or out-think the demons. So don't try. Just go with the flow.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“It certainly won't be easy! But if you switch your brain off, you'll be amazed by what your body can do.”
Dervish lays the book on the floor, bends over it, and reads a passage, running a finger over the words, muttering softly.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Several spells must be cast to open a window between Lord Loss's world and ours,” Dervish says. “I have to make sure it's a small gateway — we don't want other demons following him through.”
“That can happen?”
“Sure. The Demonata are always eager to cross the divide and wreak havoc. They'll seize any opening that presents itself.”
“But don't you know the spells already?” I frown. “I thought you summoned him before.”
“I did,” Dervish nods. “Several times. But some spells are best not memorized.”
He finishes the paragraph and closes the book. Walks to the wall to his left and lays both hands on it. “I'm starting now,” he says, “but it'll be twenty minutes, maybe half an hour before the window opens. Stay close to the tables. Relax. Don't distract me.”
While I lean against a table, nervously tapping and scratching at the wood, Dervish mutters arcane words at the wall, drawing signs upon it with his fingers. After a few minutes, steam seeps from the rough stone. Dervish leans into the steam, inhales, turns, and breathes out.
A shadowy bat flies from his mouth and flits across the cellar. I duck instinctively, even though it's nowhere near me. When I look again, the bat has vanished and Dervish has moved on to another patch of wall.
Fifteen minutes into the summoning. All the walls are steaming. The air of the cellar is moist and hot, like in a sauna. Bill-E makes deep choking noises and flaps at the air with blood-red hands. Dervish has been breathing out a variety of smoky creatures — bats, snakes, dogs, insects. As I watch, he turns and exhales his largest yet — a full-sized wolf.
Bill-E gibbers wildly at the sight. Hisses at it, then ducks to the rear of his cage and crouches low, whimpering, as the spirit wolf floats towards him, evaporating before it touches the bars.
At any other time I'd feel pity for the poor beast Bill-E has become, but right now there's only room in my heart for terror.
Dervish steps away from the walls at last, eyes closed, face contorted. Walks directly to the folder containing the Lord Loss drawings. Picks it up and clutches it to his chest.
“This is where things get weird,” he mutters, as steam pours from the walls and transparent worms drift in and out of his mouth.
“I can't wait,” I half-laugh, almost hysterical.
“Whatever happens, don't scream,” Dervish says. “We're at our most vulnerable while I'm searching the various portals for the one that connects with Lord Loss's realm. A scream could attract the interest of other demons — and that might be the end of us.”
