Текст книги "The Raven Collection"

Автор книги: James Barclay

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Текущая страница: 165 (всего у книги 235 страниц)

Chapter 38

Pheone was up with the dawn the next morning feeling torn and unsure but strangely confident. For most of the college, optimism was the dominant feeling.

The arrival of the elves had galvanised the college effort. The extraordinary warriors, the painted TaiGethen, had moved like ghosts through the rooms and corridors in a sweep that left no hiding place. They, together with the mysterious and disturbing ClawBound, had established that there were no Xeteskian assassins in the college but it was more likely as the hours went by that these killers would be present in the city. So the gates remained closed and they scanned the skies ceaselessly.

The Raven, though, their effect had been amazing yet entirely predictable. Among the hundred and seventy or so mages, guards and militia, there was the undeniable feeling that they could no longer lose because The Raven never lost. And here they were, fighting for the college. Pheone couldn’t help but feel the same. Something about their air of confidence when they rode into the place, their bearing and their authority. When The Unknown Warrior spoke, you listened. When Hirad looked at you, you tried harder. When Darrick explained a better way to work in defensive teams, it seemed obvious.

But she had seen them later on that night, talking with Commander Vale, and it left her wondering whether this might not end up being their graveyard. There were three of the six over whom she had serious concerns that she dare not voice. Darrick, who had been weakened by a deep wound on his hip and who had plainly suffered through their three days of hard riding. Hirad, who, though he would never admit it, was barely free enough to fight, having sustained a sprained wrist and a damaged chest that restricted the movement of his upper body. Both clearly pained him. And, of course, Erienne. She had heard so much about Erienne and now she knew what the poor woman carried. There had been so much grief in her life, so much pressure and now she was alone with a magical force she could have no real idea how to properly control. That she was at the table at all was impressive enough. But her temper was short and she was isolated, as if continually biting back something that wasn’t her. Something that might escape if she invoked its name.

Pheone wasn’t sure whether the rest of them could see the trouble she was in and the energy she consumed in just trying to remain herself. Pheone could but, like them, could offer no assistance. Even so, she couldn’t shift the irrational thought that, once the fighting started, they would prevail. And if that belief was shared throughout the college, then The Raven would already have had the desired effect and for that she was eternally grateful.

After breakfast, with the elves still resting for the attempt on the Heart that would take place after midday, she climbed up to the walls as was her habit, finding Hirad standing there, looking south. He wasn’t the only one up there. It was another fine day and away past the boundaries of the city, anyone who cared to look could see the cloud of dust that signified the approaching Xeteskians. All of them had their fingers crossed that more allies, particularly Izack and Blackthorne, arrived before their enemies.

‘How far away do you think they are?’ Pheone asked, coming to his shoulder.

He turned and smiled at her. ‘Hard to say. Half a day, perhaps a little more. Like Rebraal said, they’ll be here before nightfall. I reckon they’ll posture for the rest of the day, try and get us to surrender and then attack at dawn. But they’ll send in assassins and familiars if they can before then.’

‘It’s not a happy picture.’

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘But we have to know what we face. No sense in hiding, is there?’

‘I guess not.’

There was a long silence. Although the college walls were taller than most buildings in Julatsa, their vision of the open spaces beyond the city was still obscured by rises in the ground. When and if lzack did appear, they’d have little warning.

‘Pheone, I’m sorry about last night. It had been a long day.’

It was an apology she hadn’t expected and struggled to accept easily.

‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘We were making mistakes.’

Hirad shook his head. ‘It’s not that, really it isn’t.’ He paused. ‘I miss him. Every day when I don’t hear his voice it adds to my anger and I can’t let it go. You understand. It’s funny. When I didn’t see him for years, it hardly mattered because I knew he was fine. Now he’s gone and that time seems such a waste.’

Pheone couldn’t find the words to say anything meaningful, just nodded her head, feeling vaguely embarrassed that this man, who looked so uncompromisingly tough and had seen so much death, would speak to her like this.

‘He’s why I’m here you know,’ Hirad continued. ‘Ilkar wanted us to come and help raise the Heart but it’s gone beyond that now. I can’t help with that. But I can strike back at every one of those bastards coming here. They are all to blame.’

The warmth and sadness in his voice had vanished, to be replaced by something entirely cold. Pheone leaned away a little, desperate to change the subject.

‘But we will do it. Raise the Heart, I mean. Even if it’s only a temporary victory it’ll be for the memory of Ilkar, won’t it?’

‘It won’t be temporary,’ said Hirad and he turned and stared at her, his eyes burning into hers, not allowing her to look away. ‘Because we aren’t going to lose.’

‘I know,’ Pheone said, hoping she sounded as convincing as he did.

‘I hope you do because belief is everything.’

Hirad had none of the charisma of The Unknown Warrior but he had a heart so proud and full. No wonder Ilkar always spoke of him as the man who made The Raven live. At least now she could see exactly what he had meant.

‘Where’s Sha-Kaan?’

Hirad chuckled, his eyes losing their penetration and his expression softening. ‘Yes, he told me he’d made your acquaintance yesterday. Don’t be scared of him. He actually quite likes humans these days, I think.’

‘That’s a relief.’

‘He’ll be in the Blackthorne Mountains, resting. Some cool cave or other that reminds him of his homeland, I expect. When we’re ready to send him home, I’ll call him. He’s excited about it. Can’t say I blame him. Sometimes I wish I was going with him.’

‘Why don’t you?’

‘Because I won’t betray Ilkar’s memory,’ he said.

‘Do they live in caves, then, dragons?’ Could it really be like all the stories she’d read?

‘No. They have places called Chouls where they go to rest with their Brood brothers sometimes. They’re a bit like caves. Mostly though, Sha-Kaan’s land is hot and humid and they live in buildings built by their servant race. I’ll explain it all to you one day. Maybe take you there.’

Pheone couldn’t fathom Hirad at all. That was an offer no one could turn down and so casually made like you might buy a round of drinks. From anyone else, it would surely have sounded boastful, flaunting of influence. From Hirad, not so. And he clearly meant it.

‘Could you do that?’

‘Why not?’

‘I’d love to.’

‘Good. Another reason why you need to believe we can win, isn’t it?’ Hirad stretched his arms and a flicker of pain passed across his face. ‘Right, I’ve got to go and have some balm put on this damn chest.’ He paused at the top of the stairs, massaging his strapped wrist. ‘Thanks for being with him the time you were,’ he said. ‘You meant a lot to him, made him very happy. I won’t forget that.’

She watched him go and the tears began to fall.

‘Neither will I,’ she whispered.

All things considered, it couldn’t have gone much better for Dystran. He had to put aside the debacle in his catacombs because, as Ranyl had pointed out, something always goes wrong, but everything else was working out perfectly.

With few real alarms, his forces were closing in on Julatsa, where they would crush the college, the remnants of the allied forces and the elves. They would take The Raven apart, capture Erienne and the elven texts, and be effectively unopposed as rulers of Balaia.

There was no way Lystern or Dordover could threaten him now and it really just came down to how long he left them alone before crushing them too. How both cities must have wished they had built walls. How both must have wished for a less ethical approach to magic. Vuldaroq alone saw the mistake his college had been making but he wouldn’t have time to put it right. They would all pay for it now. At Dystran’s leisure.

He should have been concerned that the mages and guards he had dispatched after the few hundred allied men left him a little exposed to a concerted attack but frankly, there was none coming. His scouts had had the run of the mage lands for three days and nothing was heading his way.

The pathetic few tents that represented the army of the righteous, as that fool Selik had dubbed it, became fewer every day as more and more realised the Black Wings weren’t coming back. He’d even recalled his spies from the encampment. It was a waste of resource.

He had spent a great deal of his time in the Laryon hub, now that the place had been cleaned. He and his newly assembled research team checked and rechecked their calculations. In a day, a spell would be available to them and for a prolonged period. He had ordered his dimensional casters not to strike until the allies were within sight of Julatsa. He wanted the enemy to see their comrades destroyed if he could.

It was just a shame that the BlueStorm could not be cast. That particular conjunction would not happen again for some time. Still, the alternative would be just as devastating, if less visually impressive.

Dystran foresaw the end of the war in a maximum of three days from now. Standing on his balcony before flying across to see Ranyl, he reminded himself to give some thought to the order of the country once he had assessed his own home strength. It was going to be a big task, ruling Balaia, but, as the only magical force left, he would be uniquely positioned to be its first ever sole leader.

It was a frightening thought, he had to admit. He cast ShadowWings and drifted slowly across the space to Ranyl’s tower. One day soon, he would land and find the old man dead. The one man he needed more than any of them.

He hoped today was not that day.

The refectory was empty barring one table in its centre. Across it were spread maps of the city and hastily drawn sketches of the surrounding mage lands. Though they had all begun sitting down, all but Erienne were standing now, intent on the plans. Izack had arrived shortly before midday and the meeting had taken place immediately, with Xetesk’s forces just a few hours behind and marching with great confidence. Izack stood with The Raven, Commander Vale, Pheone, Rebraal and Auum.

‘So you’re saying that Blackthorne won’t be here before Xetesk?’ asked The Unknown.

‘Yes,’ said Izack. ‘Right now, he’s holed up here.’ He tapped the map of the land between Xetesk and Julatsa. ‘He’s made the right decision. He’s got about fifty with him but they are in no condition to fight. Better he rests a day and attacks the rear when he can. We’ll be in contact so I can direct him.’

‘I’ll trust your judgement,’ said The Unknown.

‘On a brighter note, we know that the allies have moved from their siege positions south and west of Xetesk and are coming to reinforce. They’ll be here a day after the Xeteskians, all things being equal. Now Xetesk will know they are coming so they’ll be pushing very hard when they attack which, I think, we all believe will be tomorrow. But it could be late this afternoon, so we have to be prepared. Agreed?’

There were nods around the table.

‘Right, General.’ The Unknown winked at Darrick. ‘Since you’re a wanted man but Izack doesn’t seem too keen on taking you into custody and his men have searched high and low but can’t find you, perhaps you’d like to repeat what you suggested to us last night.’

‘Be glad to,’ said Darrick. ‘All right by you, Commander Izack?’

‘I’ll only arrest you if I don’t like the plan.’

Darrick almost smiled. ‘All right. Well, it doesn’t take much to see that the numbers don’t add up. This college is too big for us to hope to defend the walls from the inside. We simply don’t have the forces. Not only that, not all of our skills suit defence of this nature so I’m advocating a split approach.

‘You, Izack, need to hide the cavalry outside of the college. There are good stabling facilities to the north of the central market and there’s little reason to believe you’ll be found. Even so, we are going to do a general sweep of some areas with ClawBound, should they agree, before the Xeteskians arrive in force.

‘Second, the TaiGethen are masters of the hit-and-run, and of close-quarters hand-to-hand. So, I’d like most of them outside these walls. Same goes for the ClawBound. This leaves us with all the mage strength, the Al-Arynaar archers and old warriors like Hirad to keep the walls and gates clear. We’re presuming they’ll try and breach the walls with spells, because they won’t have siege ladders or the time to build them, and roping up is suicide. What we have to do is stop those spells and I’ll go into how to do that in a moment. Remember, they have to get in fast or risk us not just raising the Heart but being rested as well.’

He stopped and poured himself a goblet of water.

‘Are you all right with this, Izack, or do I consider myself under arrest?’

Izack shrugged. ‘No General, you remain a free man. It’s the plan I would have suggested. My only comment so far is that we must be mindful of Chandyr’s cavalry. He has kept it out of sight during the march so he may be anticipating this sort of move.’

‘It’s a fair point. Now, I’m assuming, Pheone, that the investiture of spells in the walls and doors is healthy?’

‘It’s solid. We’ve been lucky. The problem we could face at any time, mind you, is the inability to reinforce should the mana focus fail. We just can’t rely on it.’

‘Also, if there has been an attempt to raise the Heart, we’ll have a lot of tired mages and little spell capability,’ said Denser. ‘Don’t forget that.’

Darrick paused and clacked his tongue. ‘When are you attempting the rising?’

‘Any time,’ said Pheone. ‘We’ve been ready since mid-morning now that everyone has been reminded of the casting.’

‘So why has Chandyr not pushed on faster, I wonder,’ said Darrick. ‘If he knew you could act almost immediately.’

‘I very much doubt he did,’ said Pheone. ‘Look, all colleges have castings for this eventuality but only in Julatsa is it woven into the basic lore and structural teachings from a student’s first day. In Xetesk, they’d have to study from scratch, isn’t that right, Denser?’

Denser nodded.

‘But here it’s different. It’s a question of history. When Julatsa was founded, we were under threat for years. So the ability to bury and raise the Heart had to be at the middle of everything, just in case. And now it’s our way of getting a student started. The construct is very basic. The energy we have to pour in is not.’

‘Good,’ said Darrick. ‘And how long does it take?’

‘Under normal circumstances, no time at all. Today? I’d hate to guess.’

‘Then if you don’t mind taking an order from an ex-general, go and start now. Maximum time, maximum rest.’

‘You don’t need me?’

‘Not that much,’ said Hirad. ‘Get on and good luck.’

Pheone nodded and left to calls for good fortune from around the table.

‘Right,’ said Darrick. ‘Let’s wrap this up and go and watch. It fascinates me.’

‘Hold on,’ said Hirad. ‘We’re forgetting one thing on the magic front, before you go on.’

‘Which is?’ asked The Unknown.

‘Sha-Kaan,’ said Hirad. ‘There’s a casting to get him home. That has to happen before the battle. Denser?’

Denser turned a carefully neutral face to him. ‘Why must it be done before the battle?’

‘Because we can’t take the risk of dying and leaving him stranded here. Not now we have the knowledge.’

‘Old friends dying is a risk of war, as you so ably pointed out yesterday morning,’ said Denser. ‘I need my stamina to protect this college. He’ll have to wait.’

Hirad stood quietly for a moment, Izack watching his face. It betrayed no anger though his body had tensed.

‘That isn’t acceptable,’ said Hirad.

‘Rough justice,’ said Denser. ‘If he can wait six years, he can wait another few days.’

Hirad thumped the table. ‘No!’ he shouted. ‘He has to go now, today. I spoke to him last night. The flight nearly killed him. He has so little left that a few Xeteskian mages could take him down. Think, Denser. And do the right thing.’

‘Hark at you, Coldheart.’ Denser shook his head. ‘The right thing is what you think at the time, isn’t it? Well, no dice. This time, I’m in the chair and I decide. And there’s nothing you can do about it.’

Hirad breathed in deeply. His shoulder muscles bunched then relaxed and he held up a hand. ‘Denser, please. If there is one innocent in all this it is Sha-Kaan. Gods, he was trapped here saving us and now he has to go home. He’s not a part of this war. If you want to take out your anger about what I did, then do it on me. Don’t use him as a pawn. He deserves better than that from all of us. He deserves to live and if you don’t send him back now, you might be condemning him to death. Please, Denser.’

Denser looked at Hirad askance and then turned fully to face him. ‘You know, Hirad, I’m genuinely impressed by that. And I’ll not often say that after hearing you talk. Look, let’s get this meeting over with and I’ll go and check the texts I took from the catacombs. If I’m right, it shouldn’t take too long. All he needs from me is a line to follow, after all.’

Hirad beamed but then remembered himself and nodded solemnly.

‘Thank you, Denser.’

Denser shrugged.

‘And I’m sorry, all right?’

‘Later, Hirad. Let’s discuss it later.’

Hirad slapped the table. ‘So, General, what’s the big idea?’

Chapter 39

Erienne listened to them for as long as she could. Men standing round maps discussing the futures of other men. Who lived and who died being tossed around like an orange stolen by children in a market. She wondered if they ever actually stopped to think about what they were doing. That positioning that man there and that man there actually condemned one man and saved the other.

Probably, they didn’t. And a part of her didn’t blame them because they made the same decisions about themselves and lived or died by them. But the larger part thought of them as playing gods because they mentioned her name and assumed her compliance without knowing any longer what she was capable of doing. They remembered her Dordovan magical skills. She didn’t think she could use them any more.

She tried to tell them but they wouldn’t listen. All they could find to say was that they would help her, that they would be there and that they were The Raven. So instead she walked out into the sunlight to watch the attempt to raise the Heart. She didn’t feel much of the warmth of the sun and everything seemed a little detached. She knew why. The One was probing her senses, keeping her away from the people she needed in any way it could. It was trying to deprive her of her humanity. Her hearing, her sight and her touch all seemed to be under attack.

Erienne watched the elven and Julatsan mages gather around the Heart. Almost two hundred of them in two concentric rings coming no nearer than forty feet. Though she might not be able to feel the warmth of the sun, she could certainly sense the atmosphere. She had never known one so tense around a casting. They should all have been confident. Instead, they feared a dropout of the mana focus, a darkening of the shadow. It would be catastrophic.

Pheone stood next to Dila’heth, the elf relaying the human’s instructions. A thought clear as spring water came to Erienne’s mind. She probed the Heart of Julatsa. The sight jerked her back to herself. She should not have been able to view the mana with such clarity, almost as if she were Julatsan herself. Another thought. Of course, she was every mage now. Magic was just one element. For her it was no longer split along the lines of college and lore.

Feeling an almost voyeuristic excitement, Erienne tuned back into the Julatsan mana spectrum and watched, expanding her viewpoint to take in the mages congregated around the Heart pit.

The Heart itself exhibited all the signs of a mortally sick organ. It pulsed rather than flowed at its deepest level, sending vibrations into the flow around it. Its energy was low, constricted by the shadow that sought to crush the life from it altogether.

What should have been a brilliant yellow oval, imbuing every Julatsan mage, was in reality a stuttering tarnished teardrop. The desperation to raise the Heart was all too easy to understand. It had to be returned to its exact previous position to stop it deteriorating further. Like a sundial partially hidden in shadow, it had to be moved to where its effect could be maximised. And then enough Julatsan mages had to be trained to build its strength. Pheone had asked her opinion on Geren’s theory. She had thought him almost certainly right. That meant raising the Heart was only one step on a long trail back to strength.

Erienne noted with great interest, the effect of the mana flow on the elemental power streams about it. The pure magical force dragged them into similar shapes, upsetting their own rhythm. The free energy of the air and earth around the Heart were weak in its presence and she could feel the solidity of the buildings surrounding the courtyard.

The combination of the elements was so potent. Beguiling almost. She knew she could draw on any of it, all of it. That the failure of all the colleges would not stop her practising magic. She could be the only mage, giving true title to the name of her magic. One.

Erienne clamped down on the thought and felt the pressure of the One entity ease. She fought her breathing back to near normal and refocused, seeing the structure for the raise begin to form.

Like so many core castings, the structure was inherently simple. To Erienne, it looked like nothing more than an eight-sided splint. Each panel of the splint was linked to those adjacent by cords of pulsating mana and inside it, there were as many links into the Heart itself as there were mages to cast the spell.

All of these links were mirrored by poles of mana on the outside of the splint, one representing each mind. The formation was quick and without error, each mage feeding in as much energy as the next to keep the balance perfect.

When it was done, they paused. Erienne heard Pheone issue a series of quick commands, tidying up a slightly tattered edge here, filling in a striation in one of the splint panels there. When Pheone was finished teasing at the few imperfections, they waited again, all watching the dull-coloured but powerful shape, making sure it was settled.

Now it got tricky. Slowly, on a single command, all the mages tensed their minds in unison, clenching their fists for emphasis and raising their arms gradually as their minds gripped, dragging the Heart upwards, agonisingly slowly. But move it did. Inching upwards, the mages taking the strain.

Erienne sampled their minds, felt the draining effects of the expense of such levels of energy. So much poured in to keep the shape true through the shadow that covered everything they did. She could see the delicacy of their operation. Every mage had to push at precisely the same rate, the balance had to remain perfect. Each was responsible for making sure their rate of input placed no lateral strain on the structure. And where they did, Pheone linked in, cajoling or smoothing, evening the flow. She was a natural.

Erienne felt a twinge in the elemental forces surrounding the Heart and focused in. There, buried deep within the stone of the building that housed the Heart, and that they raised along with this most vital of mana structures, was a mote of darkness.

She could see the mass of the energy from the earth, air and stone spiralling in support, dragged upwards by the intensity of the mana and mimicking the shape of the sheath. But there was a blemish and it was fast infecting the point at the base of the Heart.

She couldn’t tell whether it was a coincidence or a direct result of the casting but it was happening all the same. The swallowhole in the elemental energy expanded quickly, soaking up into the Heart, distending its shape fractionally at first but then faster and faster. It was enough to begin a chain reaction, the Heart darkening, deep shadow consuming its already dull colour. And all the time around Erienne, the mages continued to inch the Heart and its surrounds towards the surface.

They seemed oblivious, they were oblivious. The focus was failing and none of them had noticed. For a heartbeat, panic gripped Erienne and she considered trying to absorb the black hole in the elemental energies, cover the vortex that was destroying the focus. But a beat later, she knew she could not. Dark lines pulled and shadows thickened over the surface of Julatsa’s Heart.

And still they lifted it, their minds so concentrated on the splint and its coherence, and on the stamina they were having to feed in that the drain on them was escaping their attention. Their minds were linked as one to the construct, their combined force stopping them sensing what any one individual would see instantly.

There was nothing Erienne could do to slow the rate of the shadow’s advance. At the base of the Heart, yellow was gone, replaced by grey and darkening every moment.

‘Pheone,’ she said, her voice loud, pitched to penetrate. ‘Release the structure now. The focus is failing.’

‘So close,’ moaned the mage. ‘We can do it.’

The spell had her, like it had them all.

‘No,’ barked Erienne. ‘Trust me, listen to me. Abort the attempt now.’

‘Nearly there, we have momentum.’

‘Dammit!’ spat Erienne. Without thinking, she reached out, harnessing the elemental energies surrounding the splint. They coalesced immediately into a hard edge. In the centre of the splint, darkness was flying along the length of the Heart. When it eclipsed it entirely, the splint would collapse violently, reversing its energy through every Julatsan mage mind. It would mean the end of the college.

Erienne had no time to think of the short-term pain she was about to cause. She forced her mind to firm the edge still more, feeling the One entity surge painfully within her. Trying so hard to keep the stopper in its power, she whipped the edge through the poles of mana spiking the outside of the splint, releasing mage after mage as she sheered through them.

It was so easy, Julatsan magic so weak and unable to resist. The One edge flashed bright, sucking in the raw mana it freed, Erienne fighting to keep it sharp, imagining with increasing desperation a knife carving through water, up and down.

Quickly, with fewer and fewer mages feeding power into the splint, it began to sag, the Heart falling back down. From its apex, the raising construct unravelled, Erienne scything through the poles while the blackness gorged on the Heart. Abruptly, the spell collapsed and Erienne shut off the edge with the last of her energy. She opened her eyes and tried to pick out Pheone who was standing close by. The mage was blurred to her sight as she swayed on her feet.

Somewhere she could here people running. Elsewhere, shouts of anger and gasps of pain.

‘What did you do?’ demanded a voice. Pheone, she thought. Yes, definitely Pheone. ‘I felt you. It had to be you. We were so close. What have you done?’

‘Done?’ she repeated, feeling her strength give way. ‘Not much. Saved your college and the lot of you. That’s all.’

She tottered and crumpled.

‘How is she?’ asked The Unknown.

Denser turned from Erienne’s bed in the infirmary and shrugged.

‘Hard to tell,’ he said. ‘She’s not as bad as before. I think it’s just the exertion but there’s no sense from her yet.’

Denser stood and looked towards the doors. They were open, letting the mid-afternoon light and breeze into the spotlessly clean building. The warmth touched the four occupied beds of the fifty in the infirmary. Three elven mages had been injured when Erienne disrupted the Heart-raise attempt. Their damage was, like hers, difficult to assess, though for different reasons. Mind-damage from the backwash of a spell was always so.

‘Come on,’ he said, beginning to walk. ‘I don’t want to stay in here right now.’

‘Stay with her, Denser,’ said The Unknown. ‘We can prepare without you.’

‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘This place is just too full of memories. I’m having her moved to our rooms.’

The Unknown nodded. He felt it too. In fact he felt it all over the college. A battle site revisited. So much had been rebuilt since the Wesmen invasion and not a speck of blood remained. But the memories were still fresh. The infirmary had seen the results of the suffering on the walls and gates. And it was where Will Begman of The Raven had lost his fight for life. Thraun wouldn’t go near the place. Not even for Erienne.

‘She did save them, didn’t she?’ asked The Unknown.

‘All of them,’ said Denser. ‘The mana-focus failure followed the same path as all the others, according to Pheone. They were lucky Erienne was watching.’

‘And is the focus still gone?’

‘Apparently not but it makes little difference. Every Julatsan and elven mage has gone to rest. None will cast again before tomorrow.’

‘That could prove costly. We’re liable to face familiars.’

Outside, the waiting was beginning to tell. The TaiGethen, ClawBound and Izack were all hidden around the city and the Mayor and entire city council were being watched. Darrick wasn’t risking what he’d heard of their actions becoming outright betrayal. The gates of the college were closed and the dust cloud signifying the approaching Xeteskian army was almost at the city borders.

Lookouts were spread around the college walls, with a heavy presence at the gatehouse where Darrick, Hirad and Thraun stood with the impressively determined Commander Vale. The Unknown and Denser headed in their direction, feeling the mood. The optimism of the morning was gone, replaced by a sombre introspection. Their best chance was already gone and the enemy was not even at their gates. The Heart remained buried and without spell protection they faced a force they could not stop with swords and arrows alone for long. A force that would be on them within the hour. And it wasn’t the men that worried them the most. Enough familiars could make the difference if they were employed in the right way.