Not in ones or twos, but in a horrifying flood of teeth and claws, scales and feathers, wings and tentacles. Some were large, others small, but all were terrifying. Things which belonged in the darkest recesses of the imagination or in stories designed to scare children. Ghostly wraiths, demonic chimeras and ghastly undead things appeared out of nowhere, filling the air with their cacophony of sound until her ears hurt.

She sought to summon a spell of protection, already knowing that the majik would not come. Kelewulf was right; she was spent, and could do nothing but accept her fate.

She turned to look back at the young necromancer again, noting how he, too, appeared to be on the point of collapse, his entire body trembling with the immense effort he was having to expend to keep the portal open. She understood the willpower and energy such a feat required, and a tiny part of her couldn’t help but marvel that one so young and untrained was capable of carrying it out. What little colour there had been to his skin had now disappeared completely, leaving him the colour of bleached bone. He’d badly bitten his tongue during the spell, and blood ran from the side of his mouth on to his neck and clothing. A great convulsion went through him, and she watched as his knees buckled. He almost collapsed in that moment, but somehow he found yet more strength to continue. She doubted she’d ever met anyone with such raw power. And she knew there would only be one outcome if Lann, even with the Dreadblade, tried to stand against it.

The terrible cold that had signalled the merging of the two realms disappeared, and she knew the portal was no longer open.

Fleya did not know how much darkness and terror had leached from that realm to this. But she knew that the world would never be the same again.

She felt the thing behind her before she heard it. A dark, horned thing that came at her with its claws raised, its lips peeled back to reveal row upon row of jagged teeth.

Fleya had seen the monster before; seen this exact moment. She had seen her own death in a vision on the night before she and Lann had set out from her home, and she knew that right now, at this very moment, he and Astrid were running towards her from the hills above, trying to save her from her fate.

She knew all these things.

Just as she knew they would be too late.

34

Lann and Astrid approached the hilltop overlooking Vissergott at a full gallop, and both were nearly thrown from their mounts when the creatures skidded to an abrupt stop and reared up, rolling their eyes in fright. Despite their urgings, neither animal would go on.