'No it isn't,' she whispered, and there were tears standing in her eyes. 'It's started again.'
'No, love,' he said, but he already knew it was true.
The temperature was falling, the ship was shifting against its forward motion. There was a swell rising and a storm coming.
'We knew it couldn't last,' she said. 'Didn't we?'
He nodded. There were no words, not now.
Above them, he heard orders rattling across the decks and the sound of hurrying feet. He heard the slap of limp canvas and felt the ship turning. There was a knock on the door, urgent and insistent.
'Sorry, you two, but you've got to see this. I'll meet you on deck.' Ilkar's voice was apologetic but determined and Denser listened to his footsteps receding and the sounds of sudden tension from above before turning back to his wife.
'Well?'
'We should go,' said Erienne. 'No sense in wallowing in our self-pity at the moment.' She sat up and kissed him fervently and managed a half-smile as she drew away. 'There's plenty of time for that later. The Unknown'll be waking soon. I shouldn't miss that. There could be more work to do.' She pushed him away, swung her legs out of the narrow bed and rummaged on the floor for her clothes.
'I love you, Erienne,' said Denser.
Erienne swallowed a sob. 'Remember that you do.'
They dressed quickly and, after a long embrace, walked up to the deck. Pushing open the forward hatch, the gusting wind felt strong in their faces. The ship was beginning to pitch sharply.
'Here we go again,' muttered Denser.
He led Erienne by the hand out into the fast fading light and looked around for Ilkar. He was there, standing by the port rail, which was lined with people. Hirad, Ren'erei, Darrick, one of the Protectors and half the crew of the Calaian Sun. They hurried over, Ilkar seeing them and stepping back so they could see clearly.
A light was arrowing out from sea to sky over at the Ornouth Archipelago, the first islands of which would soon be visible. It was a vast column, green-edged yellow, shot through with orange, brown and a dismal black. It disappeared up into the sky and where it touched them, the clouds spun around it, thickening and expanding.
They already covered the horizon and blotted out the sun and with every heartbeat they fled across the ocean towards Balaia. Inside them, lightning flared and smudges in a dozen places told of rain falling in torrents. Beneath them came the wind, and below the wind was driven the sea, white-capped and murderous. The swell was growing, already at ten feet. The ship still made headway but Jevin had already furled all but topsail and foresail, and soon he would be forced to take in more.
'Oh dear Gods,' said Denser. 'Look at what our daughter is doing to us all.'
Erienne's arm was around his waist and it tightened. He looked at her, saw her eyes reflecting the pain he felt and he squeezed her trembling shoulders and turned her away.
'I think we should eat now, before it gets too rough,' he said to Ilkar as they passed him. The elf nodded.
'I'll sort it, don't you worry about it.'
The forward hatch slid back as they approached it and a very familiar shaven-headed figure came halfway out, spotting them and beckoning them over. He was clutching a sheet around his waist.
'Any idea where my clothes are?' he said.
'Unknown, it's good to see you,' said Erienne.
'And you, Erienne. And it'll be even better when I catch up on what the hell has been going on and have some food. I am bloody famished.'
The gale roared into the Choul in the early hours of the morning. It was some time before dawn and the night was black, the cloud unyielding and the rain unceasing. Sha-Kaan brought the Brood to wakefulness, their dulling eyes regarding him in irritation.
'We are doing nothing here but dying,' said Sha-Kaan. 'Hirad Coldheart is right. We must help them.'
'It is not our way to help but to be helped,' said Nos-Kaan. 'We are the Kaan.'
'And this is not Beshara, and here we do not rule,' said Sha. 'So we will help my Dragonene. He, at least, has stayed true and deserves our help. Without him, we would already have perished. Unfurl your wings, young Kaan, and we will fly. But beware. The hunters are everywhere.'
'Yes, Great Kaan,' said Nos and Hyn.
'I will lead.'
Sha-Kaan moved along the Choul to find himself some space and stretched his wings. It was becoming a painful exercise, alleviated only by the thrill of the hunt for prey. But even that was beginning to pall. Sha-Kaan was already an old dragon when he was first marooned in Balaia. The unhelpful conditions merely brought his death closer. But there was still hope. The Al-Drechar could help. They had both the knowledge and the power. While they lived, so would he.
He opened his great mouth, sucking in the air and opening the muscles above his flame ducts, feeling the chill rush around the emptiness of the sacs. He wondered how much more confident the hunters would be if they knew the dragons were dry. Not so terrifying then, he supposed. Then again, he considered as he examined his claws and felt the tips of his huge fangs with his tongue, then again . . .
Sha-Kaan snaked his neck around to see his Brood pair working their tired wing muscles and stretching the drying, cracking membrane. But they were ready and would not fail him.
'Come, Kaan. We will fly high and fast. Let the Skies keep us.'
'Skies keep us,' the Kaan intoned.
Sha-Kaan walked along to the entrance, his keen eyes piercing the gloom, seeing nothing but flat dark rock, trees bent double under the gale and the teeming rain.
'Balaia,' he growled. 'Sooner left, better my scales.'
With a roar, he spread his wings and leapt into the air, beating upwards. Nos and Hyn-Kaan following. Sha-Kaan rose to the peak which housed their Choul and circled, waiting for his Brood to join him.
There was movement below. He barked a warning and an order to climb faster. He could see metal glinting in a thick area of brush. There was a dull thud which he could pick out above the wind whistling around the peak. A long shaft rose very quickly and Hyn-Kaan squealed as it pierced his left wing, the metal tip ripping through the membrane and the shaft dragging the hole larger as it passed, continuing on into the sky before falling back to the earth.
Sha-Kaan roared and dived on the brush. The humans had already scattered to hiding places but one had not been quick enough. The Great Kaan snatched him in his jaws and bore him back into the air, the puny body writhing pitifully against his grip. Above the peak of the Choul mountain, he bent his neck round and grabbed the human in a fore-claw, bringing him close to his eye.
'Fall. Like you wished on my Kaan.'
Sha-Kaan flung the screaming figure away to his death, not bothering to watch his impact. He turned and beat his wings, driving to where Nos and Hyn circled. Hyn was pained but the wound was not critical.
'And you still want to help the humans?' pulsed Nos.
'They are not all alike,' said Sha-Kaan. 'Hyn-Kaan, return to the Choul if you cannot fly the distance we must travel.'
'When we reach the upper skies and can glide, I will match your speed. Do not ask me to stay, Great Kaan.'
'Then follow me. This is the flight to our fate.'
Roaring into the wind and thunder, he drove up into the cloud, searching for the calmer air of the heights.
Erienne woke earlier than Denser, with the wan light of dawn edging through the window. In truth she had hardly slept. The ship had plunged in all directions during the storm, which still raged outside and, since Jevin had ordered them all below shortly after dinner, she had been lying here in the dark, her husband close.
It was strange. Funny almost. On the Ocean Elm, she had become accustomed to her impending death but hated why it had to happen. Now, with her death just as certain, she felt calm and had felt close to euphoria during the night. There was a reason. The perpetuation of the One and the life of her child. And no matter how much she would miss Lyanna and all those she loved, she knew that her death would mean something to the whole of Balaia. Perhaps bring a new dawn in the days of magic.
There had been a moment for both of them during their despair of the last couple of days, and neither she nor Denser would deny it, a moment when they considered the death of Lyanna as preferable to their own irrevocable parting. It was an option that would save Balaia and they would not have been human had they not considered it, however fleetingly. But as this day came, the thought seemed almost laughable.
Erienne turned in the small bed and rested her head on Denser's chest, running her hands through the hair on his chest and listening to his even breathing and the gentle beating of his heart. Outside, the wind battered the ship and drove it on towards her doom. If it all went according to plan, she would be dead in about two days' time. A strange thought but one she felt she could cope with. After all, there was a great deal to be done before she could indulge Balaia with her passing.
She smiled and rubbed her head against Denser. At least one more success was walking about the ship again. He was limping, as he would forever, but The Unknown Warrior would regain the strength in his left leg again. She wasn't sure he'd be able to fight effectively with a two-handed blade, and that was an anxiety to come for him, but he would fight and eventually, he would run. Standing and fighting was about it for now. She hoped he was satisfied.
Bizarrely, she felt as if some form of status quo had been reached. Her arrival back with The Raven had certainly cheered Darrick who had, by all accounts, been brooding the whole voyage so far. Only Thraun was a continuing problem. She had been shocked to see him, let alone see the state of his body. She hadn't said it but she feared he'd be better off dead.
Anyway, enough of all that.
She angled her head up and saw only beard. She reached up and scratched at his chin. Denser's hand flapped in his sleep and he blew through slack lips as if trying to dislodge a fly. So she poked his cheek. Still he failed to wake. There was no way she was going to lie here awake alone while the ship pitched and rocked. She slid her hand under the sheet and grabbed his penis. He grunted. She massaged it gently. He murmured. That was more like it but he still gave every impression of being dead to the world. It was the hand that whipped across and cupped her breast that finally gave him away.
'Good morning,' she said.
'It is now,' said Denser.
Lyanna walked through the orchard, her shoes crunching on broken glass. She was unhappy. The old ladies didn't talk to her much. They hadn't since she had woken. And Mummy wasn't back yet, though she had felt her close while she was still in the dark place the sprites had told her she would go too.
So she had come to see the sprites. To play with them again. But they weren't dancing on the trees like she remembered. And the trees weren't all standing straight like she remembered. Some of them were broken and all the sprites were lying on the ground, most of them bunched in the corners of the orchard. Just like leaves in autumn.
Lyanna walked over to a corner and crouched down, weaving her hand through the drift of leaves that had been sprites. There was no life there. They were all dead.
She stood, sobbing quietly. All her friends were gone except the old ladies and she didn't think they liked her. She ran back towards the door. It had no glass in it any more. She wondered what had happened. Perhaps one of the elves would tell her. Maybe Ren was there even if Mummy wasn't.
'Ren!' she called, walking back into the house. It was all wet underfoot. 'Ephy!' Her voice echoed in the corridor. She started to cry.
She didn't understand. When she had gone to the dark place, everything had been fine and the sun had been shining. Now she had come back, it was all different. It was cold and all the pictures had fallen down and everything was wet and the house was quiet.
'Myraaaa!' she wailed.
There was no sound. The sky was all black. All except the light she sent into the air to guide Mummy home. That was something the wind in her mind had taught her. But she didn't know why all the cloud tried to make the light go dim. So she'd tried to send the cloud away, only there was so much of it.
'Myra!' she shouted.
No one could hear her. That wasn't right. The wind spoke to her. She could make them wake up and make them come to listen to her so she could understand why it was so cold and wet.
Lyanna turned and wandered back towards her room.
The rumbling in the earth had already started. That would make them wake up.
Hirad and Ilkar were in their favourite place in the bow of the ship again, but this time Ilkar wasn't vomiting over the side and Hirad didn't have to keep him upright. It was mid-morning, the storm had abated slightly, the swell had lessened and though Jevin had deployed enough sail since dawn to drive them on, they would not outrun the Dordovan fleet. The seven ships flying the orange College colours were coming up on the starboard bow, close enough now to make out the shapes of people moving about on deck. They were all heading for the same channel into the archipelago but while the Ocean Elm would make the Ornouth Archipelago ahead of them, the Calaian Sun would not.
The Dordovans had to be halted and the Kaan were overdue. Ilkar and Hirad were scanning the sky. Looking for some sign in the dark cloud, Hirad spoke to alleviate the tension he felt.
'They were at it again all morning,' he said.
'You're just jealous.'
'No,' said Hirad defensively. 'I just wonder where they get their energy from.'
'Maybe from the fact that they haven't got much more time,' said Ilkar.
'I know that, but even so-'
'Hirad, can we talk about something else? Like where your dragons are or something?' Ilkar turned his head slightly to narrow his eyes at Hirad. 'I thought perhaps our rather difficult circumstances might be of more import to you than your friends' sexual energy.'
'They'll be here, don't worry about it,' said Hirad.
'Are you sure they can find us in all this?' Ilkar gestured at the dense rain-bearing cloud.
'They don't need to see, they can find us by following the signature of my mind,' said Hirad, mildly irritated. 'You know that.'
'I pity anyone following your mind at the moment,' muttered Ilkar. 'Full of filth.'
Thunder rumbled overhead. Inside the roiling mass, lightning flashed incessantly. Thunder sounded again and suddenly the clouds disgorged a flood of rain. It drummed on the deck, rattled into the sails and drove into their faces.
Hirad turned his face away for a modicum of shelter.
'Gods falling! This is unbelievable,' he said.
He and Ilkar hurried back along the foredeck, the rain lashing down heavier and heavier. They raced across the main deck, the water pouring down their necks soaking their clothes, heading for the aft hatch and the galley, suddenly in need of a hot drink and the warmth of a cook stove.
At the hatch they met Darrick, who was staring intently into the sky, seemingly oblivious to the downpour. He smiled at them.
'Refreshing, isn't it?
'Bloody soldiers,' said Hirad. 'Always got to prove how tough they are.'
'Not really,' said Darrick. 'I was just wondering what was causing this, all of a sudden.'
'Well, while you're wondering, would you mind stepping aside?' Ilkar waved him left.
Darrick obliged. 'I thought it must be something in the cloud triggering the lightning. Probably them.'
He pointed along the length of the ship. Hirad turned, his head already filling with thoughts of welcome. The Kaan had broken through the cloud and were powering away towards the Dordovan fleet.
I take it, this is the group of ships you want us to deal with, pulsed Sha-Kaan.
Yes, Great Kaan. The orange colours. Seven of them. Be careful of magic.
Be careful of wreckage. More mirth. Sha-Kaan was mellowing in his old age, not that that would be any comfort to the Dordovans. Hirad ran back to the bow, the rain forgotten, and yelled the Kaan on.
Chapter 33.
The Kaan flew from the clouds in a chevron, Sha-Kaan at its head, Nos and Hyn on the flanks. They glided fast over the fleet, seeing the humans below panicked and rushing for the sails, for the places below decks or for any cover they could find. Sha could sense the mages below, there were many of them. Hirad Coldheart was right, they presented serious danger.