The Raven Collection Part 349

'I'm not sure why I bothered,' said Ilkar. 'I completely forgot that all you have to do is open your big fat mouth and the FlameOrbs will get sucked right in. Idiot. And yes, I'm ready.'

Ilkar nailed his concentration back down to the spell. He made sure he was standing square in front of the door. He checked again that the spell diameter would cover the spread of the ward. He took a deep breath.

'Tuck in behind Ilkar, Jonas,' said The Unknown. 'Sirendor, behind me.'

Ilkar glanced over his shoulder. Hirad winked at him.

'You could have chosen a wider body,' said Hirad. 'You're a bit weedy for us all to cower behind.'

'You know that in all the years I was dead, all I ever dreamed about was being an elven s.h.i.+eld for your filthy carca.s.s.'

Hirad laughed. 'I knew you always loved me best.'

'All right,' said Ilkar. 'On the count of three. I'll cast and move the spell to the door. Everything else, I leave to your imaginations. One, two, three . . .'

Ilkar cast. The Defence hung in the air in front of him. Solid, shot through with yellow, rotating gently about its axis. He pushed out his arms slowly. The conical shape lengthened, the flat circle expanded to take in the door and then the entirety of the wall of the building. He could see the pulsing of the ward as the Julatsan casting neared it.

'Be ready,' he said, voice distant with effort.

'For what?' asked Hirad.

'To sweep me into an ash bucket if this goes wrong.'

Ilkar crabbed his hands to better grip the spell and thrust it against door and wall. The ward triggered. Blinding blue light flashed across the surface of the Defence. Ilkar leaned his weight against his spell while the FlameOrbs, or whatever fancy name they had these days, formed and crashed into it again and again.

He shuddered. Nausea gripped him. The spell s.h.i.+mmered. Ilkar grunted defiance and forced more strength into the head of his casting. The Defence steadied again. Blue light rippled across its surface, fizzed into the ground and slapped back against the building. Fire leaked around the edges of the spell and lashed at the air and the ground at Ilkar's feet. Sweat dripped into his eyes.

Ilkar could see the end coming. The effort of dragging in so much unfocused mana told eventually. There was not enough flow to keep the construct steady for long. The sides of the cone wobbled. The lattice unpicked from front to back. Another orb slammed into the cone and the spell collapsed.

'Down!' yelled Ilkar.

He angled his hands up. The final orb deflected off the remnants of his spell and arced away into the dawn sky. He followed its lazy movement up until it reached its zenith and began to fall back down.

'This is not good,' he said.

The Unknown had seen it too. 'Up! Up! Get inside. Move it, Raven.'

He picked up Jonas by the back of his collar and charged through the wrecked entrance of the building. Sirendor and Hirad were scrambling to their feet, the barbarian cursing at the pain from his burned foot. But still he stopped to grab Ilkar and help the tired mage up.

The orb fell to the ground on the right-hand side of the street. Hirad and Ilkar dived inside the house, rolling away from the opening and heading for the stairs up which The Unknown was already running. The orb splattered across wall and street, triggering wards all around it.

Flame lashed inside the building, reducing broken timbers to ash and engulfing the stairs in fire. Ilkar dived headlong onto the landing from the top step. A whoosh of heat behind him and a crackling of paint on the walls told him how close he had been to incineration.

The ground heaved beneath them. Great rending sounds of stone on stone, rock smas.h.i.+ng into rock and the splintering of wood sounded far too close. Ilkar came back to his feet and grabbed Hirad's arm, helping him along. The others were ahead, stampeding up another stairway towards the roof. A ma.s.sive column of stone broke through the floor and carved its way up through the bedrooms on Ilkar's right.

'EarthHammer!' he shouted into the tumult but no one could possibly hear him.

Plaster dust and debris filled the air. The house rocked. Detonations of more columns of stone breaking upwards could be heard surrounding them. Hirad made the stairs and took them three at a time, wounded foot almost forgotten in his desperation to escape. Ilkar was right on his heels, pus.h.i.+ng him faster.

Light poured in from above. A great swathe of the roof slipped and fell into the street, showering shattered tiles down on the fleeing Raven. Up ahead, Ilkar saw The Unknown battering down a door with his feet and running into clear sky. The front wall of the house cracked along a jagged horizontal, the upper portion teetering and falling outwards, dragging roof and beam with it.

Ilkar gave Hirad a mighty shove and rolled out of the top door after him. Hands grabbed him, almost lifting him from his feet and running him towards the shuddering building's edge. He cried out as he left the ground, cycled his legs and landed on the other side in a heap. He turned to watch Hirad make the jump. The barbarian's poor foot gave way beneath him. He didn't have the height to clear the bal.u.s.trade. His hands grabbed at guttering and he disappeared from view.

Behind him, the house crumbled to the ground, sending up clouds of dust that glowed in the blue flame of Xeteskian wards. As the sound of the collapse rolled away, Ilkar could hear Hirad swearing. The Unknown ran to the building's edge and hauled the barbarian to safety Ilkar felt someone's gaze on him. He looked round. A man was standing by him, four wolves at his feet. He recognised those hands as the ones that had helped him escape. Others were there too. A woman and a boy who would bring joy to The Unknown's heart and, oddly, Brynar, Densyr's apprentice.

The man with the wolves was smiling. The sun on him projected his shadow onto the wall of a dormer window behind him. It was of a tall, powerful man with hair tied in a long ponytail at his back. Ilkar felt a comforting warmth.

'h.e.l.lo, Thraun,' he said. 'Glad you happened by when you did.'

Chapter 27.

Auum led his Tai to the city walls. Leaping and climbing, rolling and dodging, they had easily kept ahead of the Garonin sent to chase them down. Yet the vydosphere had not changed its course. Indeed, it had not moved, and Auum worried what that might mean. Threads of comfort sprang from the knowledge that despite all their might, the Garonin were still prey to feelings of revenge. It was the reason they were chased and the reason the Ravensoul was sought.

The enemy knew that harm could be done to them. Men could be lost, perhaps enough to affect their battles elsewhere. This deflected their attention only minutely, but minutely could be enough to buy the time they so desperately needed.

Once on the walls, the TaiGethen ran free, putting real distance between them and their pursuers. Auum tore around the battlements and through abandoned watchtowers. He scaled the outer sides of the south gates and dropped onto the roof of the gatehouse. Only here did he pause. He climbed onto the crenellations.

From here he could see across the city to the walls of the college. The towers within stood proud and he could make out a solitary figure on the uppermost balcony of the central edifice. Auum whispered a short prayer to Shorth. He let his eye wander to the east, to the deserted streets of Xetesk bathed in a watery sunlight.

Auum could pick out figures running across rooftops. In amongst them, he could make out the bulk of Sol and the flas.h.i.+ng shapes of wolves. And he could see the Garonin advancing too. In the skies above, the vydosphere sucked up its fuel. The clouds still darkened and the swirl still gained pace. He wondered briefly when Densyr would realise the appalling mistake he had made.

'Auum.'

It was Ghaal. He was perched on the crenellations looking out over the west of the city. Auum followed his gaze and his heart fell into his boots. When you saw one, suddenly, thousands were revealed. People. Ordinary Xeteskians with their faith in a college that would inevitably fail them.

'Cattle awaiting slaughter,' said Ghaal.

'Enjoying the dawn of their last day in this or any other life,' said Miirt.

'And we will free them when we can,' said Auum. 'Now, my friends, it is time to break into the college.'

'Can it be done?' asked Ghaal, he and Miirt jumping back onto the roof.

Auum put a hand on each of their shoulders. 'With Yniss to guide us, we must believe it so. Tai, we pray.'

Densyr had been staring straight at where he had left The Raven when it happened. He watched the single blue orb fly skywards and did not even consider why it had travelled in that direction, so consumed was he with watching it fall to the earth. No time to get Septern to deactivate the cell. Time only to pray the wards would not trigger.

A prayer that went unanswered.

Ten wards. He knew the number so very b.l.o.o.d.y well though it was impossible to count them going off individually, such was the force and speed of the multiple detonations. Flames lashed from both sides of the narrow street on shallow angles, incinerating everything taller than a house cat. G.o.d's Eyes pounded the enclosed area and EarthHammers shoved their fingers of stone high into the sky, ripping apart buildings and standing as insulting gestures in his mind. He was stricken with a sudden regret.

Last night, he had been so c.o.c.ksure that leaving them trapped was the best way to neutralise them until he decided to free them. So sure that they would not attempt an escape. Ilkar might have been shorn of his college's Heart but he was no fool and would be able to detect active wards given the amount of time he had.

'What did you do, my old friends?' whispered Densyr. 'Why did you try to outwit the master? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it had to end like this.'

Densyr took one last look at the dust cloud that covered the scene of their deaths and closed the balcony shutters on his crime. In his deep armchair by the fire, Septern was studying the ward lattice. The sheen of sweat on his face didn't encourage Densyr's confidence.

He sank into the chair opposite and sipped at the tea his servants had left them. All the way down the line, he'd made the right decisions. He was certain of it. What the dead had told him really did make no sense. There was no other home. No escape route. Just like every time before, Balaia had to stand up and fight for herself. And win. Just like every other time.

Maybe he had been a little heavy-handed with those he once counted as close friends and allies. But decisions had to be made and some people always had their noses put out of joint. Not everyone would ever be happy. And at least his people, the Xeteskian people, knew he was doing all this for them.

Should it have worried him that Auum claimed to have seen all this before? Surely not. If indeed he was thousands of years old as he claimed, things move on. The elves had had no magic back then, no defence. Densyr had the might of Xetesk and the unexpected advantage of Septern. Balaia had to survive, and for that to happen, Xetesk had to remain strong. The right decisions still had to be made.

Even if it meant his friends had to die.

'Septern, can you hear me?'

'Of course,' said Septern, his voice clear enough though a little strained.

'You needn't concern yourself with The Raven now.'

'I know. I felt it. Saw it. Doesn't feel so much like casualties of war now, does it?'

'No,' whispered Densyr. 'Tell me what you can do.'

'The news isn't too good.'

Densyr's heart skipped a beat. 'What do you mean?'

'The enemy is cleverer than I thought.'

'Smarter than you?'

'Let's not give them too much credit. The problem lies in shutting off the mana flow.'

'Not doing so isn't an option I'm prepared to entertain.'

'I know, Densyr. But the risk to the Heart is greater than I thought. It is possible that they intend us to shut off the flow, triggering an explosion in the Heart. Mana will be pumped up into the atmosphere . . .'

'To be collected by the machine hanging up there for just that purpose, if it can collect mana that way.'

'Precisely.'

'But you can stop that, Septern, can't you?'

Septern's face held the first element of doubt Densyr had seen.

'Probably,' he said.

'Probably isn't good enough.' Densyr leaned forward in his chair. 'You know the stakes here. We cannot fail. Not now.'

'Now your friends are dead.'

'Indeed.' Densyr pressed his lips together. 'And anything you do, do quickly. We don't have much time.'

'I shall attempt the cell-by-cell closedown. That way, I can isolate surges in mana being fed back and dissipate them through harmless areas of the grid.'

'If you say so. And what if it begins to go wrong?'

'A mage can always act as a buffer if necessary,' said Septern.

'Get going.'

'They know what we intend, I'm certain of it,' said Sol. 'Brynar. Hirad needs attention. Ilkar, Sirendor. a.s.sess the next jump and the bridge the ClawBound has left. Thraun, let's see if we can't find ourselves a better route than the one we already have. But don't go far. Quickly. The enemy are closing.'

He stood with Diera and his boys. All four of them in a huddle and he at least realising that it could be their last. The Garonin still came on. He had counted eight of them. Moving carefully over the rooftops, no doubt aware of the capacity of the TaiGethen and hopefully unaware of their current whereabouts.

The rooftop to which they had jumped from the collapsing building was a work in progress. They were standing amidst the debris of a building site. Half-built walls, piles of stone, sand and barrels of water. Pots of whitewash, brushes, trowels and even a couple of straw hats. A block and tackle had been hanging from the near edge of the building but the ClawBound elf had stripped it for its rope. Every tool of the trade was scattered about, evidence of a hurried evacuation or perhaps merely a poorly run site.

'Why do you say that?' asked Diera.

'Because while the bulk of them stand and guard their machine, these eight are heading right for us. Raven, I want an ambush plan. Here or at the next intersection.'

Sol looked after the ClawBound, who was still creating a path to the college gates. He had laid ropes and even knotted sheets where he could and left markers for jump points, so Thraun had reported. The Garonin were less than a hundred yards away now and would soon be in weapons range. Sol pulled away from his family.

'Time to move. Brynar, how are you doing?'

'Hirad is all right to walk now.'

'Good. Freedom's Wings for you again if you don't mind. Brynar.'

'Yes, my King .'

'Not "king", just Sol. And thank you for not abandoning my family.'

Brynar shrugged. 'What sort of man would I be? Besides, Auum made it clear the fate I would face if I ran.'

'I'll bet he did.'

A short incantation and gossamer wings appeared at Brynar's back. He held out his arms and Diera placed young Hirad in them. It was several hundred yards to the ap.r.o.n in front of the college gates. They had to traverse another four intersections and get across the heavily trapped open s.p.a.ce.

'I could take him all the way,' said Brynar.

Sol paused on the verge of agreeing. 'But they wouldn't let you leave. We need you.'

'Keep out of sight of the college as long as you can,' said Brynar. 'I'll open the postern gate for you.'

'There isn't a postern gate any more,' said Sol.

Brynar raised his eyebrows. 'Trust me on this.'

Sol nodded. 'Diera?'