Grip the brand tightly. An instruction from an arch-diviner. Something it doesn’t know I know. Something it can’t plan for.

I realised what I was missing – why the mizelikon looked ever-so-slightly different this time…

The white mark – the brand!

I reached up, deliberately ripping my own hand to shreds and letting the demon’s thorned tongues creep further, tearing into my midriff. I didn’t care. Pain was inevitable, and incalculably better than death.

With my final strength I slapped my chalk-white, bleeding palm down just above its eyes, between them, where its forehead should’ve been. Where the pale shape looked right.

And beneath my palm, the hidden burning rune lit up, its radiance pouring out between my fingers, as pure as sunlight.

I couldn’t see it. I wasn’t an arch-sorcerer here. But I was an arch-sorcerer beneath. Where power failed, knowledge served.

I sank those fingertips in deep, piercing both shadow and light with my mortal flesh as only an arch-sorcerer might.

The mizelikon screamed, a red-lit maw filled with tiny teeth appearing now beneath its eyes, its substance of lipless night parting to voice a singular, infernal roar of helplessness.

I gripped the brand tightly.

And I was myself once more.

I stared into the crimson eyes, and they stared back, scrunching up in pain.

“Be mine.”

The Infernal words came from my lips, comprehensible despite my injuries, and I felt the power of the mizelikon pulse through my hand. Its eyes lowered – the link between us was made whole.

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Instantly, I felt the relief as what seemed to be hundreds of thorns were removed from my skin.

“Free… free him too.”

The black vines withdrew from about Rathal.

“Oi! Oi, what’s he doin’?” someone cried.

“He’s taken its allegiance!” Shadowcrafter roared.

Unconsciousness was beckoning but I was so close, so close. The white energy was still pouring out between my fingers, into my bleeding hand, into my flesh –

“Raph!” I pleaded.

Weakly, he lifted his head, his arms shaking.

“Geh – geh…”

I was slurring, but he understood. Drawing once more on some inestimable reserve of power, he pushed himself to his feet, staggering towards Temcar’s motionless form.

Shadowcrafter stepped up to the front of the crowd with a rock in his hand, moving towards the ex-diviner with murder in his eyes.

I knew what I had to do. It was my time.

It was his time.

I didn’t want to do it. But I wanted to do it.

I didn’t need to do it. But I needed to do it.

I had to make my own choice. Own the consequences.

When I drew on the eldritch’s energy to bring up the shield, the lines flickered not azure but crimson, bloody arcs rippling across the space.

A single blade, aimed at his neck. Once, he’d have had his own barriers, piles of defences to chew through – and now, he was just a man. An old, infirm, hungry man.

A soul of evil riding a bag of skin and bone, just begging for release.

I watched Shadowcrafter trying to maintain his footing, his heart pumping a fountain that sprayed scarlet from his slashed throat; it was like he was trying to dance in the red rain.

Then he fell back hard, painting those near him in his life’s-blood.

There, Emrelet. There, Zel. I did it. Are you happy now?

Did you know this was me all along, Irimar?

“No… more… itterrubtions,” I growled at them in Mundic.

I must’ve looked a right state. Some of them actually flinched as my gaze crossed them.

“He breathes, Kas!” Rath cried, even as he looped his hands under Ripplewhim’s arms and started dragging him over to me.

I took a final glance at the glowering Inceryad, at the horde of bitter figures scattered around this woe-begotten chamber.

I took a final glance, and, gritting my teeth against my shattered elbow’s complaining, I raised my free hand to open the portal.

It wouldn’t channel itself through me correctly, not here, not now – I couldn’t open Etherium or Nethernum. The portal was a cold red fire, a coruscating gateway to the Twelve Hells.

I didn’t care. The moment Rath hauled Temcar up to me, the enchanter’s weight pressing on my back, I gripped the diviner’s hand, simultaneously moving the portal over us.

Welcome to Infernum, I said to myself grimly, looking around at my new surroundings. Welcome to the place you deserve.

Welcome home.