The structure was not even complete, and yet it was already beginning to wreak horror and chaos on their world. More and more fissures in the fabric that separated the two realms were opening up, letting creatures like the asghoul through. If Kelewulf successfully managed to activate a huge opening like the one she saw below, who knew what chaos and destruction would follow?

A cold wind blew in off the sea up ahead of her, tousling a strand of hair across her face.

She stared at the portal again, deep in thought. Fleya doubted such a thing could be held open for any length of time. The effort to do so would be immense, beyond anything even the undead lich was capable of. They could not bring Lorgukk back – not without the heart. So why bother to create it?

It was an act of evil, perpetrated by a maniac hell-bent on causing death and destruction. She wondered to what depths young Kelewulf had sunk even to consider such a thing, and how much dominion the lich held over the human body it inhabited. Her heart sank, both in sorrow and fear for the boy’s soul.

She had to stop them. But how? There was no way she could simply confront the giant Elemental down there. It had been summoned not just for its colossal strength, but to act as a guardian for this place. A place that was …

She stood perfectly still, then, looking out over the landscape and the sea beyond. Vissergott was a headland. The tower had been built here because it was easy to defend against any attack made on it from the land.

But there were other elements.

She made her way along the ridge towards a small, stone structure that must once have been used by a shepherd in these parts. Sure enough, when she ducked inside, the little beehive-shaped place still had the unmistakeable whiff of livestock inside its crumbling walls. It was an ideal place for her needs; the opening looked out and down on to the headland. For centuries, she thought, the men and women who had worked these lands would have sheltered here.

Fleya took up her own position in the doorway, lowering herself on to the floor and pulling her cloak around her against the chill sea air.

She emptied her mind, and transported herself into the place where she could tap into the Art. Her eyes were open, but she was looking at two realms now: the one before her, and the swirling vortex of power that she aimed to draw her majik from. She knew she would have to drink deep from that well, and that she would leave herself vulnerable by doing so.