At the Gates of Darkness. Raymond E. Feist

I can. The Prince is an eastern caretaker who doesn’t have any sense of, or much care about politics. He’s content to hunt, drink, chase serving girls and allow me to reassure him that all is well. Then he reports the assurances back to the King, that all is well in the west.

      ‘I’ll have my personal scribe draw up the messages to the Emperor of Queg and…will sign them. If you think it would help, I can use the royal seal to suggest that the documents come from the King, himself.’

      ‘Forgery?’ said Pug with newfound respect. ‘Is there no end to your larcenous skills?’

      ‘I have a few limits,’ said Jim with no hint of modesty. ‘It will take a couple of weeks, and the sooner begun, the sooner done.’

      Pug said, ‘Very well. Magnus get us to the island, please, and then take Jim to Krondor.’

      As they assembled to transport to Sorcerer’s Isle, Amirantha said, ‘I wonder how that demon loving elf and his brother are doing.’

       • CHAPTER SIX • Survivors

      THE DEMONS ATTACKED.

      Gulamendis drew back his hand; his brow furrowed in concentration as he watched his brother from the corner of his eye. Laromendis had conjured a battle demon illusion that was all talons and teeth, muscles like iron lay over skin hard like dragon scale. Ignoring the less threatening taredhel magicians, the three demons facing the brothers threw themselves upon the most obvious danger. Demon logic was simple: dispose of the most dangerous foe, then turn your attention to the lesser. Logic was not a prerequisite for the harrying demons, those whose job it was to seek out hidden prey and drive them to where the demon captains waited. All they saw was a rogue demon, not of their cadre, in front of them and never for one moment considered the improbability of the situation.

      As long as the demons believed in Laromendis’s conjuration, they were subject to damage from it, and it attacked them with frantic mayhem, slashing and biting, tearing and gouging. From bitter experience, Gulamendis knew the illusion would hold for only a moment or two longer, before the real demons recognized it for what it was. Laromendis had never smelled a demon nor experienced its magic aura, so those components were lacking in the conjuration, and as soon as the demons recognized the fraud, the two magicians would be assaulted.

      Gulamendis held his wand at the ready. It was a treasure, gained by guile and subterfuge, part of the hoard the elves had brought from Andcardia to E’bar, the city they had constructed on the ancient planet the Star Elves called ‘Home’.

      The wand had been the only thing that had kept the two brothers alive over the last few days, a period beyond the expectation of the Regent Lord and other members of his Meet who had wished to see the two brothers dead sooner. Only Tandarae, the new loremaster of the taredhel was kindly disposed towards the Demon Master and Conjurer, but he wasn’t in a strong enough bargaining position to keep them from being dispatched to the Hub World.

      They were holed up in a relatively defensible position: a cul-de-sac of abandoned cottages in the city. They were taking full advantage of the one approach, and had created a series of tripwire alarms and alerts so they could rest periodically. Their orders had been to remain there until recalled to Midkemia, but both knew that the summons was unlikely to come, so they had secured their position and only fought when the demons managed to catch sight or wind of them.

      The three that now battled Laromendis’s conjuration were minor demons, any one of whom the brothers could have bested in a hand-to-hand fight should the need arise, but together, they were enough to give the elves pause in engaging them directly.

      This was the third time they had used this ploy, the other two instances had taught them how to refine the illusion and ready themselves for the moment they would truly engage the demons in combat.

      Gulamendis took his eyes from the struggle for a moment; his brother had to concentrate on the illusion, so it was up to the Demon Master to stay alert for unexpected intruders while they stood exposed in the open, on top of the rise that led to the highest cottage on the small street.

      Behind the struggle, he saw something flicker in the distance, near the entrance to the portals. He hoped it was the other elves here, answering a recall that he and his brother had yet to hear.

      The Hub World was where the portals—what the humans called rifts between the worlds—were clustered. In ancient times, for reasons that in retrospect now seemed the height of prudence, a Regent Lord had decreed that only one portal from each world would provide access to this otherwise nondescript world. It had been home to barely a thousand elves, just enough to ensure the portals were operating as they should.

      The portal to Andcardia had been breeched a long time ago, and shut down. Only one had been maintained from Hub, to the world of Locre-Amar, and from there, back to E’bar. Once that portal was closed, there would be no access to Midkemia for the demons; at least no access the taredhel were aware of. Unless the Brothers could keep the demons who still roamed this world from reaching the last remaining rift—and also get to it before them—the two magic users would be stranded here forever, with the hungry demonic castaways.

      And Gulamendis’s knowledge of demons told him there were too many to give the brothers much hope of survival.

      Then the conjuration failed and Gulamendis extended the wand. A sphere of silver light with pink and blue colours scintillating across its surface expanded around him; as soon as it touched the demons they shuddered, went rigid, and fell to the ground at Laromendis’s feet. They remained in spasm, and the brothers knew they needed to act quickly.

      At first they had simply used the wand against the demons, but a couple had recovered quickly, and that had taught the magic users to weaken them first, in order to extend the period they were stunned.

      The brothers drew their large battle knives and began to cut the demon’s throats as fast as possible. Gulamendis reminded himself that even though this method was not as dramatic or immediate as using his magical abilities, it sufficed for these circumstances. The demon’s essences would return to their realm, but to the best of his knowledge, the portal to the demon realm had been sealed, and by the time these three were reborn, their problem of escape from this planet would long be decided.

      It was over in a few moments. The two tall elves stood covered in dark demon blood, their eyes watering from the stench of carrion and sulphur. ‘That bought us a few minutes,’ said Laromendis.

      His brother nodded. ‘I sense some more to the south, but they’re not coming closer yet. We should probably make our escape now.’

      ‘Which way?’ asked Laromendis.

      Both were tall, nearly seven feet in height, but had similar proportions to the lesser elves. Their massive shoulders narrowed to trim waistlines above their powerful hips and legs. Neither was a warrior by trade or inclination, but both had been forced to learn to kill and had become adept at it. It helped that Gulamendis understood each demon’s vulnerabilities and always communicated what he could to his brother.

      ‘That way.’ Gulamendis pointed to the northeast. ‘There should be an alley leading to the broad street; the last portal should be there.’

      ‘I thought it was the other way,’ said Laromendis, pointing to the northwest.

      His brother smiled. ‘So does everyone else.’

      ‘You have a plan?’

      ‘Always,’ said his brother jogging in the direction he’d indicated.

      The small city that had been the home of those left to care for the portals was a simple place to navigate under normal circumstances; but an invasion by the Demon Legion was hardly normal.

      They carefully made their way between buildings, stopping at every corner to make sure they were unobserved. There were a small number of demons that could hide well, becoming almost invisible, but Gulamendis’s sensitivity to