'Yes, Ilkar, nine. Including two mages. Because there are not enough of us. Barely enough to keep the net working. You've forgotten so much. Where did I go wrong?'
Ilkar heard regret and disappointment in Rebraal's voice. And the net hadn't worked. Neither the Al-Arynaar nor the TaiGethen nor the ClawBound had detected a large raiding group.
'You didn't go wrong,' said Ilkar quietly. 'It was me. I didn't believe, not deeply enough.'
'Do you not pray to Yniss, Ilkar?'
Ilkar dropped his gaze and stared into the fire.
'Then truly I have failed,' said Rebraal. 'I couldn't even teach you what binds us to the land and our Gods.'
'I know the teachings,' said Ilkar. 'I just didn't feel the power as you or Father did. I didn't have it within me to be Al-Arynaar.'
'But you had it within you to be a mage,' said Rebraal. 'Why didn't you come back?'
'Because I didn't belong. I wanted to be a great mage, not one just adequate to guard Aryndeneth or scout the forest all my life.'
'You follow different Gods,' said Rebraal. 'I hope it was worth it.'
'Yes it was.'
'And now? Now that elves are dying because of what strangers from Balaia have done?'
Ilkar had reached the limit of what he was prepared to accept. This was where he began to lose it. Funny. Denser and Erienne seemed more willing to listen to Rebraal than he was on this.
'How can that be? How can we be so vulnerable that a hundred thieves can bring us to the brink of disaster? There has to be another explanation. There has to be a cure.'
'Idiot!' stormed Rebraal, pushing himself up from the bench, pain spearing across his face as it must have through his shoulder. 'It has always been this way. Why do you think the Al-Arynaar exist? The TaiGethen? Why? To protect the elves from exactly this possibility. I have read the texts as you have not, Ilkar. I bothered to learn the one weakness in the glory of the harmony, of Yniss, Tual, Orra and every God in which I place my faith and trust.'
'And what is it?'
Rebraal's face fell and comprehension dawned on his features. He sat down very close to Ilkar.
'You really don't feel it, do you? And that's why you never came back as I did.'
'Feel what?' Ilkar could sense the disappointment in his brother.
'I see it now. And you're probably not alone, are you? Every elf who stays on Balaia must feel like you do.' Rebraal sighed, understanding bringing him a little peace.
'Like what?' Ilkar wanted to shake him but calmed himself, letting Rebraal order his thoughts in order to explain. He'd seen this in his older brother before. He had always been so thoughtful, so deep in his belief. It was one of the things Ilkar admired about him most.
In front of them the fire hissed and crackled as a light rain began to fall. Ilkar looked up into the heavens. The cloud wasn't heavy; it would soon pass.
'There is a text you will have heard of. That handed down by Yniss to Tual and from Tual to the elves when they were spawned from the rainforest and built Aryndeneth.'
'The Aryn Hiil.' Ilkar nodded.
It was the text the priests and then the Al-Arynaar guarded most jealously. The Words of the Earth, if you believed it, written by Yniss himself. Only those of a certain attainment were allowed sight of it. Rebraal would be one of them.
'Yes. The Aryn Hiil describes elves and their place in the world. It tells that elves should be the guardians of the forest. That we should be the denizens blessed by Tual and charged with keeping the land and its creatures safe. That with this honour was given long life - so the ways of the forest could be learned and passed to the next generations - but that we would not be numerous, only wise and careful. And that we would be further honoured by being one with the forest and the air and the magic. That we would feel all these energies within us and this would give us the strength to fulfil our task for Tual.
'But with it came a warning. That should we stop believing and let vine and rat gain dominion over our sacred sites; let sloth govern our minds and ignorance guide our hands, then this gift would be taken from us. And we would shrivel and die, our long life taken and our families lying dead beside us where they had lived. It would be the Sorrow of Elves, and only by turning back to Yniss could we be complete again.
'It is happening, Ilkar, and we must put it right.'
Ilkar pondered. Parable it may be but it made awful sense. This was no contagious plague. It struck at random. At the young and old, the sick and healthy. It had no rhyme or reason. It just happened.
And even if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe that this was some kind of divine retribution, it was enough that Rebraal and Kild'aar did. It meant elves everywhere would not rest until the balance was restored, until the harmony had returned. It meant that not one elf mage would leave these shores to help Julatsa.
'And what is it that I don't feel?' he asked.
Rebraal smiled. 'The forest and the sky and the air. It doesn't suffuse you. Only the magic does. That is why you didn't come back. I had no choice. I was pulled by the strings of my life.' The smile faded from Rebraal's face. 'But do not think it makes you immune from the Elfsorrow. You are still one of us. Next heartbeat the Sorrow could take you, or me, or Ren'erei.'
Ilkar hadn't considered the possibility of his own death and it was an uncomfortable thought. He took a sip of his drink. 'And you think that whatever these strangers have done is enough to spoil the harmony and bring this warning to pass?'
'It is the only explanation. We may be low in numbers but there is no turning from Yniss. The elves of the towns and cities and villages all pray as they have always done, and respect as they always have. The coincidence is too great.'
'The Raven will help you, Rebraal, I swear it. We will kill them as we would any enemy.'
'Hmm. The Raven. We are not so distant that we haven't heard of you, some of us. We always ask for news of you when one of us returns from training in Julatsa. Your name is famous, isn't it?' He stood up. 'A big reputation. Let's just hope it isn't all so much muscle and tits.'
Ilkar laughed and dragged a dry chuckle from Rebraal.
'I can assure you it is not,' said Ilkar. 'And, with a turn of phrase like that, perhaps you spent too long in Balaia too.'
'A day was too long. But I had to learn, though I could not be a mage.'
'It might pay you to brush up your Balaian, if you can remember any.' Ilkar stood too. 'I was always sorry I didn't come back, you know.'
'No, you weren't. You didn't believe. It will be a mark on my spirit for ever.'
'I was, but not for that. For you. I knew I'd let you down.'
'I had a hundred years when I didn't think I had a brother. I'm still not sure I have.'
'Take your time,' said Ilkar. 'And get Erienne to see to your shoulder. If you want to leave at first light you need a WarmHeal cast by an expert.'
'You don't perform this spell, great mage?'
Ilkar ignored the jibe. 'Not like Erienne. Come with me; she's in the house.'
The brothers walked from the fire, one driven by a fervour that would never be extinguished, the other by a growing sense of guilt that he might just have been wrong and let down not just his family and his calling, but the entire elven race.
Hirad lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, relaxing his body and opening his mind the way Sha-Kaan had taught him. He had missed contact with the Great Kaan and, as his Dragonene, should have made this effort before. It was possible that the hugely powerful mind of the dragon had probed his and discovered it not sufficiently at rest for him to risk communication. He wouldn't be surprised. The last three days had hardly been his most restful. Nevertheless, he felt a nervousness. The Great Kaan wasn't going to like what he had to say.
'Sha-Kaan, can you hear me?' he asked, letting his thoughts flow as though adrift on the sea.
Almost at once, he felt the surge as Sha-Kaan's mind touched his, filling him with a slightly piqued warmth.
'My memories of you were dimming, Hirad Coldheart,' said Sha-Kaan, his mood definitely light.
'And mine of your poor jokes,' said Hirad. 'It is good to feel my mind touch yours again.'
'And I yours,' said Sha-Kaan. 'You are troubled. You have a question for me?'
'We need to know the progress the Al-Drechar and you have made with the Xeteskian researchers,' said Hirad.
'Ah,' said Sha-Kaan. Hirad's mind filled with intensified warmth and an emotion that was easily defined. Hope. Hirad's heart beat faster. 'The Ancients know so much. And the Xeteskians have sound theory on which to rely. I can almost smell the forests of Teras and see the mountains of Beshara.'
Hirad bit his lip. 'Have they told you how long?'
'Half a season, they say, before they can be confident of the position of the dimensions again. But they are discovering much else in the meantime.'
'Oh really?'
'My hearing is a little more acute than the Xeteskians realise,' said Sha-Kaan, and Hirad felt more humour. 'After all, I am but a reptile, is that not right?'
'Their mistake,' said Hirad.
'Yes,' agreed Sha-Kaan. 'Most humans are fools. But they believe they have isolated a power they can use in inter-dimensional space and they are excited at re-establishing a linkage to your closest relative dimension, though I am at a loss as to why. The Arakhe, the demons.' He paused and Hirad felt the edge come off his mood. 'You are keeping something from me. Do not.'
'They are preparing to leave,' said Hirad. 'They want to use everything they've found to win the war on Balaia. We don't think they intend to help you.'
The silence in his mind was total, and for a time Hirad thought the dragon had left him. But a brooding fury grew in the space so recently filled with hope. He felt it like a weight, pressing down on his brain. It hurt.
'You are sure of this?'
'The Protectors are sure,' said Hirad, his breath a gasp.
'Then we will ensure they do not leave.'
'Be careful,' said Hirad. 'They are a powerful group.'
'Better to die fighting for a way home than slowly on an alien hillside,' said Sha-Kaan. 'No one uses Kaan dragons.'
And he was gone. Hirad breathed easier, the pressure gone but leaving an ache in his head. The dragons were awesome fighters, but without their fire were weakened. He prayed that Sha-Kaan heeded him. If he didn't, Xeteskian spells could finish what the Dordovans had started two seasons before.
Denser slipped between the rough-woven but clean sheets and blew out the single candle that illuminated the small room. He lay on his back and Erienne moved across to him, putting her head on his chest. He stroked her hair and she breathed deeply.
'It doesn't get any easier, does it?' he said.
'No,' said Erienne. 'Though at least I can distract myself here. The dark though. That brings it all back.'
'I know, love. I'm no different.'
His heart was as heavy as the day they had left Herendeneth, and he knew Erienne's must be too. And now here they were charged with something they didn't expect. The elves were dying and Ilkar was at risk. And if he sickened, the only humane thing to do would be to kill him. More death of those they loved. They couldn't let that happen. Bugger the rest of them but Ilkar deserved every day of his long life.
'Funny though, isn't it?' he said.
'What?' He felt her head move as if she were trying to look up at him.
'We came here to help Ilkar look for mages and now we're off to fight at a temple to save the whole elven race. It's horrible, I know, but I feel better for doing it.'
'The Raven needs a purpose,' said Erienne. 'Shepherd to a flock of reluctant Julatsan elves wasn't enough, was it?'
'No.' Denser chuckled. 'How was Rebraal?'
'I don't think he enjoys the touch of a human,' said Erienne.
'Good.'
Erienne slapped his shoulder. 'But he was fine. He'll sleep till just before dawn. I only hope it's enough. His determination is incredible. I think he'd have left tonight if Kild'aar and Ilkar hadn't stopped him. And by all accounts two days ago he should have been dead.'
'Like brother, like brother,' said Denser. He paused. 'And how are you?'
Erienne didn't answer immediately, just lay silent, listening to his heart beating and the sound of the rain hammering on the leaf thatch above.
'I miss her,' she said, her voice trembling but controlled. 'Every quiet moment her memory floods me.'
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It wasn't quite what I meant though. How's your head, the One?'
'It hurts more every day,' admitted Erienne. 'Sometimes a pulsing pain, sometimes a dull ache. But it never lets me forget it's there.'
'And have you thought of opening yourself to it? And seeking the advice of the Al-Drechar?'
Denser expected an angry response and was pleasantly surprised.
'Every day,' she said. 'When the pain is bad and Lyanna fills my mind. Then I wonder if I shouldn't get started.'
'Then why don't you?'
'Because they are causing the pain,' said Erienne, tensing suddenly. She pushed herself up on her arms and looked at him. He could just see her face in the dark, surrounded by her mass of long curls. Gods, but she was beautiful. 'I know it's them. Somehow, they're putting pressure on me and I will not dance to their tune.'
'If it is them, you'd think they'd have realised that by now,' said Denser. 'Didn't take me long, did it?'
He saw the flash of a smile. 'But they're old and fearful of dying before they can ensure the One survives. I'm just not ready and I wish they'd respect that. I could handle the learning; I just can't handle them inside my head. Not yet.'
'I understand. Just don't do it on your own,' said Denser, his hand rubbing her upper arm. 'I'm here. We're all here.'
She lay back down, her fingers running up and down his chest and stomach. His gut muscles tensed.
'That tickles,' he said.
'I know.' She carried on. 'It's good to have something approaching a proper bed again, isn't it? I bloody hate hammocks.'
Denser laughed. 'Can't say I got used to them either.'
'This feels great though.' She raised herself up on her arms again. 'Want to put it to some proper use?'