The Unknown looked across at Hirad. He was assessing them like he might assess a selection of cuts of meat for his table. There was no remorse or regret in his stance or expression. In his mind they had deserved death and so they had died. It made the moral conversation he was about to have completely redundant.
'This isn't what we agreed,' said The Unknown, changing tack.
'We agreed we'd guard them,' said Hirad. 'If it makes you feel better, imagine they both broke their spells and tried to run or something. Do you think we should move them before Erienne wakes?'
'Or Denser.'
'Denser is already awake,' said Denser.
'Oh dear,' said The Unknown to himself, hearing the dark mage get up and walk towards them.
'What's the-'
'Denser, I think you'll need to consider the larger picture,' said The Unknown.
Denser was standing to Hirad's right, his face darkening with fury.
'What the fuck has happened here?' He gestured at the bodies, plainly unable quite to convince himself about what he was looking at. Hirad filled it in for him.
'I killed them, Denser. What does it look like?'
Denser took a pace back, his mouth falling open in almost comical reaction. He stared at Hirad, naked disbelief in his face slowly dissolving into incredulity. Hirad wasn't looking in his direction. The Unknown knew what was coming. All he could do was be ready to step in if it got out of hand.
'They were my friends,' began Denser.
'Not for a long time,' said Hirad. 'They didn't come here to ask after your health.'
Denser gestured down. 'But how could you? They were no threat.'
Finally, Hirad turned to meet his gaze. 'No threat? Are you taking the piss? These two came here to kill us. They walked in invisible and if they could have stuck a knife in all of us, they would. And then taken Erienne. Well, now they can't.'
'It wasn't your decision to make,' said Denser. 'We're a team, as you're so very fond of telling me.' He was about to say more but bit his tongue.
'And one that I will not see torn up by assassins. I can't believe you would consider any other option for these bastards.'
'But it wasn't what we had agreed. There was a decision to be made and it might not have been this one.' Denser knelt by Takyn, reached out a hand but didn't touch him.
'And what was your idea, Xetesk-man?' Hirad's voice was getting louder. 'Ask them not to do it again and send them on their way?'
Denser surged back upright and went nose to nose with Hirad. 'We could have disarmed them, turned them loose with no chance of finding us again. Made them safe as far as we were concerned.'
'Well they're safe now, aren't they?' Hirad didn't flinch. 'Don't see them giving us too many problems now, do you?'
'You've murdered them, you bastard!' shouted Denser, shoving Hirad hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back. 'In cold blood. Where's your precious Code now? You're just a murderer.'
Hirad tensed and advanced on Denser menacingly.
'Hirad,' warned The Unknown.
The barbarian ignored him. 'You think they'd go and not come after us? Do you? You can't be that stupid. They are assassins. They have a target and that target is us. Xetesk is only a few hours behind us and Julatsa does not have walls. Why should we risk it, Denser? We cannot afford to be picked off and I will not risk any of us dying because you knew someone a few years back. Ilkar's memory is what matters, and you'd better start seeing it.' He let his voice drop to a harsh whisper before continuing. 'And don't you ever quote the Code at me again, Denser. This war is ongoing. It is only murder outside the rules of war.'
'They were our prisoners,' said Denser.
'They were trying to kill us. I have just removed that threat. What does it matter how it was done? If we'd killed them on sight last night would that have made it better for you, Denser?'
'It mattered to me,' said Denser. 'This is a step down a path we should not be treading. Back off it.'
'Don't come over all moral on me, Denser. I did what had to be done.' He gestured around at the camp. Darrick, Thraun and Erienne were all awake now. 'And though they might not admit it to you openly, they all know this had to happen. You should be thanking me for keeping your conscience clear.'
Denser gagged on his reply and The Unknown saw his self-control snap. He bunched a fist, ready to strike but found his arm caught by Thraun. The shapechanger looked at him for a moment.
'His knife was above you, Denser,' he said.
Hirad smiled. 'Right. You'd have been and would still be the first. Some friend, eh, Denser?' He turned away. 'I'm going to saddle the horses. And if you don't like the path I'm going down, feel free to ride in a different direction.'
The calm over Julatsa was unsettling everyone in the college. Pheone had been restless on the college walls most of the day, and much of the night before. The latest failure in the mana focus had been prolonged and deeply disturbing. And when mana did return, they had stood around the Heart pit, tuned in to the mana focus and felt chill at what they had seen. The shadow across the Heart had deepened. Fingers of dark grey spread from it and the vibrant yellow they sought was dull and tired, suffocating beneath the cloying blanket.
But now, more than ever, they couldn't afford to be fearful. They had to invest as much as they could in strengthening walls and gates. The spells that bound the stone and wood had to be strong or they would be torn apart by the Xeteskian mages who would not just outnumber them but would be operating without risk once any attempt to raise the Heart got under way.
They had found, though, those few Julatsan mages inside the College, that their mana stamina levels were low; that forcing spell structures and lattices to coalesce was terribly difficult; and that for castings of any complexity, two of them now had to do the job of one. Progress had been slow and demoralising.
Having orchestrated wall bindings throughout the morning, Pheone had been spent not long after taking lunch. The expressions of those around her reflected her own inescapable feelings that whatever they did, it simply would not be enough. That no matter how many elven mages came through their gates, they would fall short of the number needed to raise the Heart.
Before saying anything she might regret, she had returned to the walls. Despite her weariness she had walked their circumference again and again, trying to gain some hope or comfort from the warmth of the day and the irrepressible goodwill of birds whose songs gloried in the vitality of spring.
It hadn't worked. Outside in the streets, the quiet was ominous. So many had left Julatsa, for the Gods alone knew where, leaving behind a void where the babble of life should have been. She could hear the odd cart rattling over the streets and smelled bread baking and forges working. But the sense of community was gone. The mayor might have been right to urge his citizens not to fight but in effectively driving so many from their homes in fear, he had ripped the soul from the city.
And now, all Pheone and her pitiful band could do was wait to see who arrived first. If it wasn't the elves, everything was lost anyway and, frankly, she wasn't sure if she'd have the energy to fight. If she was true to herself, she wasn't sure she had fight in her in any case. The thought that they might walk away had crossed her mind but every time it did, she was reminded of the appalling emptiness of life without the ability to touch mana. It gave her the reason to carry on.
Below her in the college, the work went on. Commander Vale had brought his guard into the college and the militia had joined them once their families were gone and their houses boarded over. He had been vocal in his condemnation of the Mayor and felt that this betrayal of Julatsa left him, Vale, with no alternative but to pledge his allegiance to the college alone.
It was a grand gesture and one that had brought back some much-needed but temporary belief. The truth of the matter, however, was in the numbers. Not many more than a hundred armed men had come to stand in defence and less than half had any experience of battle at all. Xetesk was bringing hardened soldiers.
She heard someone call her name and looked around. Ahead of her on the west side of the parapet, he was waving at her. She waved back and set off towards them, seeing a couple of others gather and look away out. Closer to, she could see it was Geren. He seemed to be everywhere and his belief had never wavered. He had redeemed himself completely; transformed from the shambling ingrate who had walked through the gates a year before, and he was a lesson for them all.
'I hope this is good news,' she said as she joined them.
'That remains to be seen,' said Geren. 'Look.'
He pointed out into the cloudless sky. Beyond his finger, Pheone could see the dark mass of the Blackthorne Mountains and the dazzle of sunlight reflecting off the Triverne Inlet way distant and sending up a glittering haze.
'What?' She spread her hands. 'It's a beautiful scene, I'll grant you but-'
'Look higher, above the mountains.'
She looked. A 'V' formation of geese or ducks was high in the sky. She tracked them for a while and saw them scatter and dive quite suddenly. A black dot was left in the space where they had been, growing larger very quickly.
'What is it?' she asked.
'It's quite simple,' said Lempaar. The old elf had joined them unannounced. 'It's a dragon.'
Pheone had no idea how to react to that statement. Out of everything she might have expected to hear, it was the least likely. But it made a kind of bizarre sense nonetheless and the connections were not long forming in her mind. She supposed also, that there were few other things of such apparent size that it could possibly have been. At least it wasn't a completely ridiculous suggestion. There were dragons somewhere south, she'd heard. And The Raven were friends to them. Ilkar had spoken of it before and had clearly been moved by his encounter with them.
She felt fear and anticipation at once and felt her pulse quicken and her throat go dry.
Before long they could all make it out and Pheone sensed panic spread from them and whistle through the college. People were shouting, some making for buildings they thought might be safe. She heard the frightened whinnies of horses and then the question to which she had no answer.
'What will we do?'
'There's nothing we can do. It could be friendly and if it is, we should . . . I don't know, welcome it? If not, I fear we aren't enough to stop it killing us all. If I were you, I'd be praying to whatever God you think might help you best.'
She knew that was pathetic but the faces of those by her told her they had no better solution. So they watched as the extraordinary beast flew closer. Seeing its shadow cross the city, Pheone got an early impression of the sheer size of it. Its great wings stroked the air, propelling its huge but graceful body through the sky. Its head, on the end of a long, ridged neck held a mouth that could swallow a horse whole. Its rear legs, carrying powerful taloned feet, were swept back under its bulk.
Those feet swung forwards as it closed. Pheone saw its startling blue eyes searching for a landing place. The wings beat back. She felt the breeze through her hair and across her face, breathed foul air and heard the whump of the sails as they applied a braking force. The sight almost blinded her to her duty but in the last moments, she turned her attention to those below and yelled out.
'Do nothing! Don't attack, keep your distance.'
She should have laughed. As if anyone would do anything else. Instead she felt a nervousness clamp around her body and realised she was shaking. She watched the dragon sweep once around the college and land with a shuddering impact in the centre of the courtyard and knew she was the one who had to approach it.
'Stay here,' she told them unnecessarily.
She made her way to the nearest stairs, seeing the dragon fold its wings back and wobble slightly as it gathered itself to settle down. Descending the stairs, it was lost from sight and she hurried the last flight and trotted through the buildings surrounding the courtyard, waving people to adopt a calm she did not feel herself.
Emerging from between a lecture theatre and the infirmary, she paused for a few moments, trying to take in what she saw. Ilkar had told her they were awesome but he hadn't prepared her for this. She was looking at its flank, the sunlight glinting off the few golden scales that sat within a duller mass. Its back arched high, three or four times her height, and its tail curled back along almost the entire length of its body.
She started moving again, open-mouthed, letting her eyes track down the long neck that had a girth wider than most trees she had seen. Temporarily, the head was lost to sight. The dragon was looking into the Heart pit. She approached in a wide circle, not wanting to get too close, aiming for the edge of the pit. It seemed to sense her and the neck withdrew for what seemed like an age, the head appearing above the lip of the pit, one eye fixing on her. She stopped moving immediately.
It did not. The head came towards her, the breath firing from its nostrils, blowing sour air into her face. She swallowed hard, helpless as it came on. The mouth opened to reveal its fangs, stretching wide, saliva dripping to the ground. It stopped maybe three feet from her, its eye level with her head, its snout pointing past her. It considered her for a moment.
'I feel the echoes of friendship here,' it said. Its voice boomed across the corridor and every other noise stilled instantly. 'This is Julatsa.'
Pheone didn't know how to respond. The sheer scale of the animal she faced was completely overwhelming. So long thought to be mythical but always there had been rumours that Masters in her college knew more than they would say. That some were friends or servants to dragons. Presumably that was what this one meant.
'Yes,' she said, her voice so small next to the dragon's. 'I . . .'
'You have trouble believing I exist, or at least that we are talking,' said the dragon. 'I am, after all, just an animal.'
'No,' she said quickly. 'Not at all. I just feel . . . you know.'
She assumed it was laughing, or whatever passed for laughter for a dragon. Gouts of air blew into her and a gravelly noise emanated from its throat.
'Do not worry, frail human, it has all been explained to me by my Dragonene who is not as shy of speaking. At least, not now.'
Pheone gripped herself mentally. She knew every eye was on her and that full panic was just a heartbeat away should the conversation go astray. She asked what she had to ask.
'Why have you come here?' she asked.
'Let us begin by exchanging our names,' said the dragon. 'I understand humans do that vocally. I am Sha-Kaan, Great Kaan of my Brood.'
'Pheone,' she replied and found herself proffering her hand. She snatched it back, feeling very stupid but the dragon didn't seem to have noticed.
'I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Pheone of Julatsa,' said Sha-Kaan. 'You are a troubled people but the fact you remain here says a great deal about your courage. The Brood Kaan has profited from it over the years.'
'There is war coming here,' said Pheone, experiencing a modicum of relaxation. 'Will you . . . I mean, have you come to help?'
'Ahhh.' Sha-Kaan's exhale was full of regret. 'I wish it were so. I have friends that travel here and I would prefer to help them and you. But I am weak. So I await them because they have the knowledge to send me home.'
Pheone hadn't expected such an admission from a creature so obviously powerful. But there was something in the eye that had not left hers that told her of troubles at which she could only guess.
'I am sorry to hear that,' she said, heartfelt. 'Is there anything we can get to make you comfortable? Food or drink perhaps?'
'No, Pheone, thank you for your concern. I will rest until dark and then hunt my food. The lands near your mountain range, the Blackthornes, are quite plentiful.'
'Did you not fly over the college lands?' she asked.
'I was told there are enemies who should not see me in case it sped their progress. I saw none of them, nor was I seen. I flew very high.' He shifted his hind legs, Pheone feeling the ground vibrating beneath her feet. 'Now, tell me. Why is it that deep under the earth your essence is failing you?'
Pheone sighed and explained as well as she was able, the shadow over the Heart of Julatsa.
It was well after dark but the elves had not stopped running. The lights of Julatsa glowed brighter as they neared and the memories of the Al-Arynaar mages were fresh enough to keep their route sure. There had been attacks the previous night. Four mages were dead and only the intervention of a ClawBound panther had stopped further damage.
The camp had woken angry and vulnerable and the consensus was for a long run all the way to the relative safety of the college. Auum had returned from his attacks along the rear of the enemy line and had forced the Xeteskians to slow still further, their lookouts now scant yards from their wagons and their caution maximised. It would buy the allies a few more hours but nothing would prevent them from reaching the city.
Rebraal ran at the head of the elven column, ClawBound spread in an arc ahead, the active TaiGethen cells sweeping rear and along the flanks. He was sure they had outpaced any enemy and the familiars had kept their distance since that first skirmish but they had to be certain. He was relieved the demons had not been aware of the loss of magic in his ranks or they could have found themselves in serious trouble.
A few miles from the city, with the night full and dark, he had seen a shape climbing away from the ground and flying west. He presumed it to be the Kaan dragon of which Hirad often spoke. He quelled any anxieties by assuring his people it was friendly, his words helping him in equal measure.
He began to worry less than a mile from Julatsa. The ClawBound had reported seeing no one. No perimeter guard, no scouts looking for the enemy advance, no routine patrols on horseback. It was as if the city was at peace. The scents in the air, he was told, were of mass movement to the north and west but the ClawBound had not been free to investigate.
'Where are the defenders?' asked Auum, jogging easily beside him, Duele and Evunn ever his shadows.
'I don't know,' said Rebraal. 'We must be prepared that the situation here is more grave than we thought.'
'Or perhaps they expect us to help them though they are unwilling to help themselves.'
'We will see.'
'Pray to Yniss it is not so,' said Auum. 'We are not numerous enough alone and the will must be there or they will crumble under attack.'
The streets were deserted too. Houses were locked and empty. Street lanterns were lit but they illuminated empty cobbles and darkened windows. The atmosphere might have been fitting for a city sleeping in the hours before dawn but this one should have been crawling with those desperate to see that Xetesk did not invade without a struggle.
Rebraal knew little about city defence but surely every main junction should have been defended. Guards should have been walking or riding every lane, thoroughfare and back alley. The people of Julatsa should have been too fearful of invasion to sleep. Auum expressed the fear that he held.
'They have gone,' he said.
And it seemed, to a large extent, that they had. The only concentration of lights in the city was at the college and there they burned bright. During their run from the first abandoned perimeter post to the closed college gates they saw fewer than ten people. And all of them just stood and watched the elves pass. No one challenged them, no one raised a hand in welcome or a fist in threat. It was as if they didn't care.
Rebraal could feel Auum's contempt while they waited to be admitted to the college.