Текст книги "The Raven Collection"

Автор книги: James Barclay

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Текущая страница: 184 (всего у книги 235 страниц)

The Unknown told him everything they knew. For Hirad, every time he heard it, he doubted that little bit more that Balaia would survive. Blackthorne listened without interrupting a single time. But as the enormity of the crisis was revealed to him, he sagged visibly, scratched at his grey-flecked beard and chewed his lip.

A silence broken only by the unnaturally loud sounds of cutlery on crockery followed The Unknown’s summary. When at last Blackthorne spoke, there was a weariness in his voice. It described so eloquently the slow crushing of his spirit since the demons had invaded.

‘I’d always believed we were doing more than simply existing. For two seasons we even made ground. Tortuously slowly, but we made it. Took back some of those the demons had taken from us. Some even got to sleep in their own beds again.’ He paused, memories replaying. ‘But we paid every time. They killed our friends in revenge for everyone we took. Just as they will do tonight. And every time, we all die a little more but we can’t let them see it.

‘Strange, but we actually felt we were winning the fight. We wouldn’t let ourselves see it, I suppose. How could we afford to? Not even when we reached the limits of our ColdRoom capability. Even when it became obvious that we couldn’t help anyone still outside without losing as many as we saved.

‘Still we waited, though. And worked and planned and thought. And hoped. Just that others were resisting. It had to be true or we’d have been overwhelmed. But after another season or more we heard nothing. We sent out brave souls who never returned. We risked our mages in linked Communion. But we had to carry on hoping. What other choice was there? For us, for our friends outside, slaves and prey to demons.

‘Do you know how hard it is to lift the spirit of everyone you meet on the days that your own is beaten to nothing?’

Blackthorne stopped. He took a long, measured drain of his wine. His guests did not twitch a muscle. Barely even blinked. Beside him, Luke gazed at him transfixed with pure adoration. Blackthorne looked across at him and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. Luke dropped his gaze to the table.

‘We have known such despair. Looking out at misery from our own prison. Waiting for the end in whatever guise it came. We go hungry. We are sick so often. The weakest we buried a long time ago. Women are barren, their men impotent. Eggs are laid sour. Livestock is diseased. Milk yield is almost nothing. We are dwindling slowly, though we try to pretend it isn’t happening. All those bastards really have to do is wait for us to die but of course we’re no good to them dead, are we?

‘And then you come from a blue morning and for a moment, we are reborn. Feel the energy from our victory if you will! But the reality is that we lost four mages and seven soldiers bringing you in and now I’ve heard you I’m not sure whether you are here as our saviours or to read us our last letters before death.’

His eyes glittered as they welled up.

‘I want so much to believe you can save us. Can you really?’ It ended as a hoarse whisper.

Hirad looked around the table. At Auum who would have understood only snatches but who reflected the mood in his eyes. At Thraun who took it all in without a flicker of emotion but who he knew would be replaying the run in here as a wolf and living the nightmare afresh. At Denser on whose shoulder Erienne rested her head, the two of them reflecting Blackthorne’s pain as if it were their own. At Darrick whose eyes displayed fierce determination and the indomitable spirit that made him such a leader of men. The spirit that Blackthorne would never let fail while he was with his own people. And finally at The Unknown who understood the Baron perhaps better than any of them. He nodded at Hirad.

‘Tell him,’ he said and the ghost of a smile touched his lips. ‘You know. In your own words.’

Hirad knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wasn’t exactly sure how it would come out but he was certain he’d get his meaning across.

‘The only reason we are here is because men like you never give up on what you believe. You remind us of us. And that means we can win, but only because you’re behind us, fighting all the way.

‘Baron, outside of The Raven, you are the bravest man I know and we need you to help us. Every demon you kill makes our job more possible. Every demon you occupy here is one less that can strike north, and so you help the colleges to survive, and survive they must.

‘Everything you have done has been right. You’ve got people who love you and will die for you. You and I know how valuable that is. And there will be others like you. There must be resistance in Korina and the Baronies. Baron Gresse is surely still alive – he’ll be taking this as a personal insult. But everyone has to believe like The Raven do that these bastards can be destroyed. If you let go that hope for a moment, we are all lost.

‘Look around this table, Baron. Do you see anyone who doubts that we will eventually triumph? This is our land. And no one is going to take it from us.’

Blackthorne did look around. He searched all of their faces carefully. Hirad could see it in Blackthorne’s face. This wasn’t any sort of bravado. He absolutely had to know.

‘When you say it, it all sounds so simple,’ he said.

‘He does simple very well,’ said Denser.

There was a burst of laughter. Hirad pointed a finger at the Xeteskian.

‘Now that was almost worthy of Ilkar.’

‘I’m honoured you think so.’

‘You should be.’

The Unknown held up a hand for peace.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Down to business. Baron, we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t think we could turn this around. I’ve left my family behind and I will see them again.’

‘Of course,’ said Blackthorne. ‘Now, what is it you need from me?’

‘Later, Darrick will need to visit the armoury for weaponry but right now, there are two things. First, you’ve fought and studied the demons for two years now. Anything you can tell us, no matter how insignificant, could help. Not necessarily now and not necessarily you. Throw it open to your warriors, mages, everyone. Anyone can approach any of us with information.’

‘No problem,’ said Blackthorne. ‘Luke, handle that for me, will you?’

Luke nodded. ‘Now?’

‘Time is short,’ said The Unknown.

Blackthorne smiled at Luke’s retreating figure. The young man was upright, confident and full of energy despite everything.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without him to run the place.’

‘He’s why you can’t ever give up,’ said Hirad.

‘I know. Now, you said there were two things?’

‘Yes. Well, clearly the demons feel they have us trapped. So we need a way out.’ The Unknown had the decency to look apologetic.

‘Now there I can help you. As you know, our cellars are particularly extensive and we’ve extended them further.’ He allowed a smile. ‘Actually, we’ve built quite a network of tunnels to exit points beyond our ColdRooms, like I’m sure anyone else still holding out must have done. We rotate their use and close sections from time to time and as it happens have just completed another. You could be its first users. When do you want to leave?’

‘Good question,’ said The Unknown. ‘Short answer is, soon. More helpfully, I think it rather depends on how we all feel tomorrow, Thraun in particular.’

‘I can run,’ said Thraun.

‘We may need more than that, old son,’ said Hirad.

‘Ideally, we’d like to leave tomorrow night. There’s a favourable tide early the next morning and we should be on it,’ said The Unknown.

‘It’ll give us time to sort out a few things for you,’ said Darrick. ‘We’ve been working on some tactics I can adapt for you.’

‘Well, it’ll give our warriors something to tell their grandchildren, won’t it? Taught battle tactics by General Darrick of The Raven,’ said Blackthorne.

‘And the more they listen, the more likely it is they’ll actually be able to relate it,’ said Darrick. ‘I’ll need them in squads of twenty or thirty or it’ll get too ungainly.’

‘I’ll see it’s organised for you. Or rather, Luke will.’

‘There is one more thing,’ said The Unknown.

‘Really. That makes three, doesn’t it?’ Blackthorne was smiling a little more easily now.

‘He never was too good with numbers,’ explained Hirad.

‘Gods drowning, hark at that,’ said Erienne, stirring herself from Denser’s shoulder. She looked very tired. Her eyes were a little sunken but they still held their mischievous spark. ‘The barbarian looking down on another’s numeracy.’

‘Isn’t it time you turned in?’ said Hirad. ‘I’m sure you and Cleress have much to talk about.’

‘I don’t think she can hear me, Hirad,’ said Erienne, sobering. ‘I can’t feel her in my mind.’

Hirad frowned. ‘But I thought . . . ?’

‘I was on Herendeneth for two years, Hirad. I wasn’t tending the garden all that time. I learned things.’ Erienne’s tone was testy, impatient. ‘I can hold it back without her now. It’s hard but I can do it.’

‘What else?’ he asked.

‘The rest we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we? You’ll know if I do it wrong, that’s for sure.’

Hirad shook his head. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘No, Hirad, you don’t.’ Erienne rose and moved towards the doors of the hall, all eyes on her. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to go to sleep at night and wonder what state your mind will be in when you wake. You’ll never have to experience the dread of using a magic you barely comprehend and that has the capacity to destroy you utterly. And you’ll never once wonder, when you uncap the power, if the casting you make will help the people you love the most or instead kill them in an instant. That’s me, Hirad. Me.’

Hirad listened to her footsteps echoing away towards the stairs to their two small rooms; all that Blackthorne could spare.

‘Sorry, Denser. I didn’t mean . . .’

‘It’s all right,’ said the Xeteskian. ‘She’s finding it difficult right now. When she gets used to Cleress not being there, I’m sure she’ll be less moody.’

‘Sure?’

Denser looked squarely at him and sighed. ‘Actually, Hirad, I haven’t got a clue. That’s the most she’s said about the One for ten days. I think you might even have done me a favour.’

‘We’re all here for her, you know,’ said Hirad, feeling guilt grip his heart.

‘She knows that. But sometimes I think she’s so alone in her mind that not even we can be of any real use. That’s hard.’

‘Here,’ said Blackthorne, pushing the decanter across the table. ‘Fill your glasses. I don’t pretend to understand any of what I’ve just heard so I’m going to change the subject in as obvious a fashion as I can muster.’

He waited for all their glasses to be charged then lifted his. The crystal caught the candlelight and the smooth red liquid within danced and sparkled.

‘I’d rather Erienne were here but still, there’s always tomorrow. To The Raven. To mankind across Balaia and to the endless support of the elven nation. May we all live to look back on this when we’re old and infirm.’

They drank. It didn’t ease Hirad’s sense of guilt about Erienne and what he had forced her to reveal but it did lighten the mood.

‘So,’ said Blackthorne. ‘What was this third thing?’

‘It’s a difficult one,’ said The Unknown. ‘There’s something we’re going to need you to consider very carefully. It may never come to this but if it does, you’ll receive a message, I promise you that.’

‘Go on.’

‘It’s something you must do. You must make contingency for abandoning Blackthorne and for travelling north to Xetesk with everyone you can save.’

Blackthorne’s glass had paused midway to his lips. ‘Gods drowned, Unknown, why?’

‘Because if we don’t make it, it could be the only chance the rest of you have to give the demons one final bloody nose. Now, I know you say you’ve heard nothing from any other pockets of resistance. But not all of your scouts have failed to return, surely?’

Blackthorne smiled. ‘There are always methods of getting information. I’ll tell you what I know.’

Chapter 20

The Unknown Warrior watched the three Protectors jog away up the western side of the Bay of Gyernath, the elven mage Vituul with them. Ahead of the group was a journey nominally the lesser of two evils. They would have to avoid contact with Wesmen and take one of the mountain passes to the north of Understone Pass to bring them within a few hours of the walls of Xetesk.

Ule, Ryn and Qex had made their goodbyes to their brothers Ark and Kas, and to Sol the one to whom they all looked now they were free. For his part, The Unknown felt as they did, that it was unlikely that they would all stand together again. By the time The Raven reached Xetesk, he couldn’t conceive that they would all have survived.

‘We can’t afford one error,’ said The Unknown when the longboat had put in to the bay to head back to the Calaian Sun. ‘If Blackthorne’s information is anywhere near accurate, Balaia is in a far more desperate position than we feared.’

‘They will not fail us,’ said Ark.

‘Dammit but we’re so thin on the ground.’ The Unknown scratched his shaven head. ‘I wish there was some other way.’

‘Don’t think that way,’ said Darrick, who had accompanied them to issue final orders and check they understood exactly what they were to relay to Dystran, assuming the Lord of the Mount still lived. ‘We’ve passed the point of no return. We can’t afford to worry at the corners of what has been decided. A change now could be catastrophic. And even if they don’t make it to Xetesk, we have to be confident we’ll make it, though vital preparation time will have been lost.’

‘You’re right, I know,’ said The Unknown. ‘But there’s no contingency. No back-up.’

‘Like there was when you went to cast Dawnthief, you mean, or when the Noonshade rip was closed?’ Darrick’s tight brown curls blew about his head in the offshore breeze.

The Unknown raised an eyebrow. ‘Funny, but it seemed different then. For all the risk we faced, I didn’t give any serious thought to failure.’

‘And you do now?’

‘Yes,’ he confessed. ‘For some reason, the stakes seem higher for Balaia. Stupid, I know, but they do. After all, destruction or domination have always been the cost of failure.’

‘But not for the scattered dimensions too,’ said Darrick. ‘Not for the dead, not even for the dragons. And it’s more personal to you, Unknown. You have a family beyond The Raven and that changes everything.’

The Unknown shook his head. ‘There’s more to it than that. Look, I’m worrying about elves and Protectors when it’s us that concerns me most. When push comes to shove, it’s us that has to win this for everyone. I know we’ll be helped but we’re in the centre of it again. I don’t know if you were watching our skirmish with the demons but we were rusty. The fact is, General, we’re getting too old for this. One fight and a sprint and we’re all nursing pulls and aches except Hirad. And he almost got himself killed trying something he shouldn’t.’

Darrick was nodding. ‘I noticed. Well, we can do some fitness work on board ship as well as practice with those maces Blackthorne gave us.’

‘It won’t be enough.’

‘Every little helps. And believe me, we’ll get fit quickly once we’re in action.’

‘That assumes we live long enough,’ said The Unknown.

Darrick opened his mouth to reply but paused and frowned. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but this does not sound like you.’

‘No, I don’t suppose it does. But then I’ve never been about to take on an enemy I’d be worried about losing to if I was accompanied by an army. Gods drowning, Darrick, there are about ten of us. What chance do we really have?’

‘On our own, none. That’s why we’re calling on dragons to help us and the rest of Balaia to fight. It’s why Erienne is training so hard. Unknown, you can’t afford to think like this.’

‘Why do you think I’m airing this when only you, the Protectors and our oarsmen can hear me? And they can’t understand a word I’m saying.’

‘You’re worried what Hirad will think if he knows you’re like this?’

‘Course I am,’ snapped The Unknown. ‘Look. This is going to be really difficult. Like nothing we’ve ever done before. And I felt lethargic fighting those demons. Really slow.’ The Unknown shook his head again. ‘I’ve done nothing but half-hearted sparring with Ark for two years, what else do I expect? The point is, I want you to watch us, all of us. You have the eye of the professional soldier still, it’s not something you ever lose. I want you to tell me anything that is awry with how we do things. Hirad will take it from me better than you and we can’t afford to fall out. Watch Erienne especially. I don’t like the way she reacted last night. She’s not handling the pressure so well and we’ve barely begun.’ He sighed and looked at Darrick, saw the understanding in the General’s eyes. ‘If she falls apart . . .’

‘She has The Raven behind her,’ said Darrick.

‘One day, even that isn’t going to be enough.’

‘Hey, well let’s make sure it isn’t this time, eh?’

The Unknown relaxed a little. ‘Yeah, let’s do that.’

Baron Blackthorne strolled up to the periphery of the ColdRoom shielding and barked for Ferouc. He was used to delay and this time was no exception. He stood calm and quiet until the demon master was in front of him.

The dawn had been chill and the early morning sun was doing little to warm the land. It left Blackthorne almost glad he had no vines in the ground. In these conditions, they would have withered anyway. He lamented the loss of the vineyards and the object of his blame floated before him, his membranous wings rippling to keep him airborne. He was a comfortable shade of deep blue, his skin still. Not for long.

Blackthorne had gathered all his commanders with him to gauge Ferouc’s reaction. It was a gamble but, as Hirad had said on more than one occasion, this was a time for gambles.

‘It’s a fine morning isn’t it?’ said Blackthorne, adjusting his coat against the cold breeze.

‘Every day the air you breathe makes us stronger,’ replied Ferouc. ‘Your time to strut about your meagre kingdom is short.’

‘Ah, but is it? You’ve not tasted real frustration barring your abject failure to take my town, have you? How does it feel to know a damaging reverse?’

Ferouc looked nonplussed. ‘I am not aware that I had experienced one.’

Blackthorne made an extravagance of turning round to smile at those gathered behind him, taking in the protective steel of those closest to him.

‘Well, well, well.’ He couldn’t suppress a heartfelt chuckle of genuine surprise and pleasure. ‘This is better than I could possibly have hoped.’

Consternation flickered briefly across Ferouc’s features, characterised by a shifting of veins and a modulating of his pigment. ‘I fail to see any cause for amusement in your position.’

‘Our position? No, my jailer, you misunderstand as so often. We are laughing at you.’ Blackthorne cleared his throat. ‘I would have thought you could sense their absence much as you sensed their arrival. But what’s really amusing is that you clearly never had any inkling at all that they’d left. You haven’t even mounted a pursuit, have you, Fidget?’

Ferouc snarled, his colour paling dramatically. Veins writhed under his skin and the muscles across his chest rippled violently. His fingers clacked together.

‘You are lying.’

‘No, I am not. The Raven have gone. Spirited away from beneath your noses, Fidget. That’s why you can’t sense them. And you can’t, can you?’ Blackthorne paused. ‘But if you don’t believe me, search for yourself. I’ll guarantee you safe passage around my town. It’ll be uncomfortable for you but I expect you’ll live. Long enough to report back to your masters that you have lost something you so very badly wanted.’

Ferouc opened his mouth and emitted a high-pitched shriek. He tore into the air. Blackthorne followed his path which criss-crossed the town. He would pause occasionally, dart to the edges of the lattice, sniff and back away. But largely it was a frenzied movement, desperate. When he landed again, his rage was almost too intense for him to speak. His skin was a pulsing, roiling bright blue.

‘Where have you hidden them?’ he managed.

‘My dear Fidget,’ said Blackthorne calmly and quietly. ‘I assure you they are gone from here. My, it’s as if you were scared of them being outside your control.’

And there it was. Just what Blackthorne had been hoping to see. A flicker across Ferouc’s eyes and a trembling through his body. Fear. The first time any of them had seen it but unmistakable nevertheless.

‘You will pay dearly for this.’

‘Really? Going to kill more of the already-dead, are you? Please. There is nothing you can do to hurt us further. But we have released The Raven and there is much they can do to hurt you. The world is turning, Fidget, and you have been found wanting.’

With a second shriek, Ferouc was gone, high into the sky, calling his cohorts to him.

‘See that?’ Blackthorne pointed at the fast-receding figure. ‘That is why we must fight on. Fidget knows as well as we do what The Raven represent. We’ve been divided and kept weak. The Raven can unite us and they fear that more than anything.

‘Now, I think you should prepare those under your command. I imagine things might get a little warm around here.’

For fifteen days, the Calaian Sun sailed the southern, eastern and finally northern coasts of Balaia. The view from the starboard rail was endlessly striking and beguiling. Untamed landscapes, stark cliffs and glorious expanses of white sand studded the coastline with the promise of much more beyond.

Not that The Raven saw a great deal of it between dawn and dusk. Darrick put them through a punishing regime of exercise as tough as that to which Lysternan cavalry recruits had been exposed in years gone by.

He had them spar for hours with their new maces; relay-race with weighted barrels; and climb the mainmast rigging using just their hands. He had them swim laps around the ship when the wind was light; he cut lengths of rope for skipping and pressed longboat oars into service as group exercise poles. It wasn’t with a view to bringing great gains in their speed and endurance but for them to test themselves, feel the state of their bodies and give them just a little more sharpness.

And unlike in years gone by, he participated in every exercise, putting himself through extra rounds if he felt he was below standard. And while he drove them as hard as he could, he watched them, fascinated. They grumbled as he knew they had to but every task was undertaken with enormous energy, spirit and determination. They fed off each other. If the battles to come could be won by sheer will alone, they would be unstoppable.

Individually, though, he had his concerns about them. Besides himself, Hirad had remained very fit. His time with Auum and Rebraal had dictated that. But that couldn’t hide the fact that he was not a long way from forty years old and just not as fast as he used to be.

The Unknown Warrior’s problem wasn’t so much his forty-two years but the long-term degradation of his left hip following his hideous injury on the docks at Arlen over three years before. It stiffened quickly in the chill water and relay-running had him limping from early on. That and the inevitable softening gained from two years’ easy living on Herendeneth. It was the difference between farming fit and fighting fit and it could prove fatal.

Thraun looked and acted no different. Quiet, withdrawn at times and without an ounce of excess bodyweight. Life on Calaius had clearly suited him.

But Denser and Erienne worried him the most. Their contentment at being back where they truly belonged, in the bosom of The Raven, was undermined by their awareness of the situation. It wasn’t that they were unwilling; they would quickly become as fit and capable as ever if allowed the time. It was that he could see in their eyes that they simply weren’t ready. Not for the task ahead, not to put their lives at risk as a daily habit and not to accept the responsibility that had been thrust upon them.

And Erienne was clearly struggling to make sense of what she was required to do. It drew her attention away, took her edge.

Darrick knew he could rely utterly on the elves. And the Protectors still maintained their aura of confidence, inscrutable even without their masks. No, the problems all lay at the heart of the operation, with The Raven themselves.

He spoke to The Unknown Warrior every evening and the big man listened. He spoke candidly about his hip, but like all of The Raven was far more concerned about his friends than himself.

‘Everyone needs to understand the reality of their situation and limitations,’ Darrick had said one evening. ‘And that includes you just as it includes me.’

‘I’ll be all right.’

‘That’s exactly the problem, Unknown. Until you accept that you’re not twenty-one any more, you’ll be taking too much risk.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ said The Unknown Warrior.

‘Judging by what I see out there under exercise, no,’ replied Darrick. ‘Don’t get me wrong. We’re an extraordinary team. The weapon skills are still there, the belief is undimmed and the will is staggering. But it’s been two years since Julatsa and our stamina is not what it was. That’s why we struggled after the short fight the other day. We aren’t used to that exertion and it showed. The trouble is, you all still act like you fight every day. You don’t conserve because you’ve never had to.

‘You asked me to do this, Unknown. Now listen to what I’m saying. You’re the one who has to relate this to the rest of The Raven. And you-know-who isn’t going to like it.’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’

‘We haven’t got time for tact,’ said Darrick.

‘Hirad’s never thought so.’

‘Then he should respect what you tell him.’

‘You know, Darrick, that is no help whatsoever.’

The Calaian Sun dropped anchor in the quiet waters of Triverne Inlet on a chill but sunlit morning. All eyes scanned the eastern shore, searching for signs of demon activity. They found none, keen elven sight revealing only late spring growth in a peaceful landscape.

From the shore, Hirad watched the ship take sail and turn for the open sea once more. Jevin took vital messages home with him for the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar. Should The Raven fail and Balaia’s colleges fall to the demons, the elves would have to prepare for invasion.

Hirad turned to them, assembled on the sandy beach.

‘This is it, then,’ he said. ‘I still think we should be coming with you to Julatsa.’

Rebraal shook his head. ‘You know what was discussed. The cursyrd want you. You’ll endanger us all in there.’ He smiled. ‘Besides, we’re quicker without you. See you at the lake.’

‘Don’t be late.’ Hirad hugged Ilkar’s brother and clasped hands with each of the TaiGethen then finally, Eilaan. ‘Remember why we’re doing this.’

The elves ran away towards Julatsa and were soon lost to sight. Hirad felt exposed without them.

‘Come on, Raven,’ he said. ‘We can make the lake by tomorrow nightfall if we sail through the night.’

The Raven returned to the longboat which had been fitted with a single mast for their journey along the River Tri. With packs already stowed under the gunwales and benches, they were under way quickly. The atmosphere, as it had been outside Blackthorne, was oppressive. Only the sound of the breeze rustling reeds and grass came over the gentle burble of the water against the timbers of the hull. Balaia was dying meekly.

Despite being unlikely to encounter any demons in countryside bare of all but scattered farms and hamlets, they kept very quiet throughout the trip, resting as much as possible. Thraun in wolven form scouted ahead periodically, giving them extra security.

The Unknown took his time to watch The Raven during this curiously peaceful interlude. Despite his own concerns and those raised more recently by Darrick, he felt happier with the tightness he saw around him now. Two years apart had dulled them without question but their time aboard ship had rekindled their spirit of togetherness. But what they had to guard against was overconfidence in the fight. Looking across at Hirad, it was not a conversation he was looking forward to having. He’d save it for Triverne Lake. Now was not the time.

‘We all feeling all right?’ he asked.

Darrick raised a thumb from his position on the tiller. Erienne and Denser, sitting together and talking in whispers, both nodded. Thraun’s eyes were sparkling after a recent run in the undergrowth and Hirad grunted assent.

‘Hard to believe we’re headed for the toughest days of our lives, isn’t it?’ said the barbarian. ‘This is all very pleasant.’

‘Don’t lose focus,’ said The Unknown.

‘Hardly.’

‘Denser, Erienne, a question for you.’ The Unknown waited for them to look back to him. ‘This information that Blackthorne got from Lystern about the sanctity of the Hearts. What do you think? We’re relying on it, after all.’

Erienne shook her head. ‘Not really my area,’ she said, a smile on her lips. ‘Demons are more Denser’s thing. He used to own one after all.’

Denser jabbed a finger into her side. ‘Technically correct. I suppose whether it’s likely or not, I trust information from Heryst and Lystern. Actually, despite my wife’s denial, we’ve been talking about this a fair bit and it makes good sense. Look at it this way.

‘Best intelligence suggests that the demons are here to stay, to milk the life force of this dimension for as long as they can, not just rape it and move on. That means they need to keep people alive and mages particularly. Not just because of their souls but because they hold the key to mana. Demons are mana creatures, why would they destroy that which they need to live? The answer is, they wouldn’t. Not if they plan to stay. We know they’re flooding mana into Balaia, that’s why it’s getting so cold. And in future years, the Hearts will keep it from dissipating, give them a base from which to rule.’

‘But we know something they don’t, don’t we?’ said Darrick.

‘You’re talking about the Julatsa experience, I presume,’ said Denser.

‘Absolutely. Which raises an interesting question. Should we not be considering burying all the Hearts if colleges have to be deserted? ’

‘No no no no no,’ said Erienne quickly. ‘For one, we can’t assume the mages are there that know how to bury the Hearts. But much more than that, burying the Heart takes what little strength we have for a long battle. The Hearts are useful to the demons but hardly critical to their success, I’d say. But the other part of your point the survivors will be forced to employ if the demons break us finally. We do know that Hearts die without mages to sustain the mana flow but will the demons believe us?’