'The TaiGethen examine every move a prey makes. They chart their strengths, learn their failings. We strike only when prepared. Only humans have a god of fortune; and he has turned against you.'
Pheone felt she should apologise but stopped herself. Instead, she drained a spoonful of soup before speaking.
'It's been two years and it seems like ten,' she said. 'What are you doing here? I'm pleased to see you but I don't think five are going to make a whole lot of difference. Not even if two of them are you two.'
'Nevertheless, we are here to organise the last chance for humans, ' said Rebraal. 'The last chance for all of us.'
Pheone almost laughed but the fear in Rebraal's eyes stopped her. She didn't think she'd ever seen an elf afraid before; not like this.
'It's really that bad?'
'What do your reports tell you?'
'That we've reached an impasse,' she said. 'The demons barely press us. They know they can't force a way in with the numbers they have. We think the balance will shift.'
She saw Rebraal's eyes widen.
'Do you have no contact with other colleges?'
'Precious little,' she said. 'Why? Surely when the demons know they can get no further they'll withdraw. Or we'll force them back.'
'Pheone, the cursyrd are home,' he said. 'You haven't heard from Xetesk in the last days, you're sure?'
'Certain,' she replied.
Rebraal and Auum exchanged a look. 'That explains your confusion and the lack of any preparation,' said Rebraal. 'Vituul and the Protectors must have fallen.'
'What is this all about?'
'You will be aware of the increase in mana density, yes?'
'Of course.' She shrugged. 'Comfort for demons.'
Rebraal shook his head. 'You misunderstand. The cursyrd are flooding Balaia with mana from their dimension because they are abandoning it. Soon the density will be enough to overwhelm your castings and the demons will truly rule Balaia. Then they will strike west and south and neither we, and certainly not the Wesmen, have the ability to resist them for long.'
'Unless we stop them, right?'
'Pheone, before I tell you what we must do, you must understand this. We believe Xetesk remains the focal point of their attack, Lystern to be under increasing pressure, and that Dordover has fallen.'
'What?' Pheone felt her heart race and a sick feeling cross her gut. 'Dordover?'
'We can't be certain but Baron Blackthorne, who still resists, reports that his last spies saw no light in the tower. But the Heart still beats because it feeds the demons mana strength. But what has happened to Dordover will happen everywhere unless there is unification. The colleges are the last free outposts of any real substance. If they are picked off one by one we are all lost. Elves, men, Wesmen, dragons and the dead.'
'The what?' Pheone's nervousness allowed a smile to creep onto her face.
'Don't mock what you cannot understand,' snapped Rebraal.
'I'm sorry,' said Pheone quickly. 'It just all sounds so far-fetched.'
'Have you not talked to the Al-Arynaar?' asked Auum. 'Humans are so blind. You do not even know when you are dying.'
'The cursyrd are on the verge of dominating this, and through it, every dimension we hold dear. We must unite to defeat them and it must be now. The fight will not take place here, it will take place in Xetesk. That is why we are here and that is why you must prepare to leave Julatsa.'
Pheone was so surprised that she replayed Rebraal's words to make sure she'd heard him correctly.
'You want us to do what?'
He had known constant fear. And beside that fear there was a pulse that he could sense and it was growing stronger. Malevolent in intent. He distanced himself from it like they all did. It confused his senses, threatened to overwhelm them.
And he experienced utter clarity too. Clarity of thought and memory brought him joy, comfort and a pure sense of belonging. These times were as common as they were craved.
He was aware of meeting others, of their presence and support. Whoever they had been they were immense in character and clear of purpose. And like him, they retained the link to those they had left, though he wasn't sure, like them, if his communication was truly understood.
All his senses were changed, were more complex than mere sight, touch or smell. He had no words to describe them but he understood and used them as if he had been born with them. He could describe without seeing, listen without hearing and speak, if speak it was.
He believed he communicated on his new sensory level without the need for words though he still considered it speech. It produced images, soundless yet they contained the meaning he needed.
When he had arrived here, with its warmth and comfort, with its beauty and calm, and with its threatened borders and fear, it hadn't been the way it was now. How long ago that was, he couldn't say. There was no conception of time passing, though surely the knowledge of change indicated such.
Now, though the link provided his most clear sense of the life he had left, it was no longer the only way. He had become aware that he could sense those for whom he felt enduring love without the need for the link buried in his ancestral homeland. But he couldn't always feel them and he didn't know if he was felt by them.
He felt a growing worry. The sense of threat to their existence was building and he, like all of them, had travelled away from the developing pulse to minimise its effect. But in travelling, he had lost the link and his ability to feel his loved ones. He was certain that distance dulled feeling. Others felt it too and it worried them. The threat was forcing them from the link quite deliberately and it was weakening them, denying them joy and comfort.
He craved the sense of touch and he knew what he must do to try and regain it. Others would follow if they understood his reasoning. He had to approach the pulse, approach the burgeoning fear. He wanted to know if those he loved felt it too and if they could remove it and leave him with the peace and calm that was his by right.
He began to seek the direction of travel, a curious reminiscence flowing over him. The familiarity of purpose and of knowing he would soon be where he knew he truly belonged. He brought the words to his mind and the images washed through him. Had he lips he would have spoken the words. As it was, he felt exhilaration power his soul.
He reached out to them, sought them and pushed away the fear.
Them. The Raven. And within them, one mind and soul was for him so much brighter than the rest.
Hirad's head felt full and it kept him from his sleep. It had been coming on through the evening and he'd bitten his lip several times during the talking they'd done to avoid sparking a dispute. He knew it was something the others couldn't feel or understand. So he'd taken himself to sleep away from them, volunteering to take the last watch before dawn.
He tried to examine the way he felt. It was nothing like the touch of Sha-Kaan, which was warm; a gentle probing that sought permission to enter his mind. What he was experiencing now was more akin to an attack. Like someone was hammering on a door, demanding entrance. Everything was muffled but the pressure grew until he developed a thumping pain in his head.
Denser had offered a casting to give him relief from the pain but he didn't want that because he thought he knew what was causing it. Because as he lay and studied the weight inside his skull, he filtered feelings from the morass. He felt love, strength and the longing for contact, lost in time. And he felt fear too and that was reminiscent of that night in Taanepol.
But unlike that awakening, which had a dreamlike quality to it full of half-remembered images and snatches of sound, this was a solid block of emotional force. And closer than the dream. Hirad closed his eyes and tried to probe the block but he had no real idea how to. All he knew was that the more he relaxed, the more certain he became that his first impressions had been right.
'Ilkar?' he spoke out loud but softly. 'It is you isn't it? Gods burning, I don't know how but it is. I can feel you, Ilks, but I can't understand you. I don't know how to respond. I'm not a mage, my mind isn't trained. But if you're sending a message keep on.' He chuckled. 'But perhaps you could speak a little quieter, I'm not enjoying the hammering.'
He paused. His words had had no effect. He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the seat of the pain in the back of his skull.
'Ilkar, please. If you can hear this, back off a little. I can't understand you, it's just coming over as pain and noise in my mind. Ilkar?'
And abruptly, the feelings were gone. Hirad sat bolt upright and closed his eyes against the yawing of his mind and the blackening of his vision as the blood rushed away. There were tears standing in his eyes.
There was something else too. Just like Rebraal had said he'd understood back in Taanepol.
It was a desperate cry for help.
'I have to put this to the council,' said Pheone.
'We have no time,' snapped Rebraal, his palm smacking on the table top. 'You have a hundred and eighty mages here, almost two hundred Al-Arynaar warriors. You represent the strongest force on Balaia, don't you understand? Without you, the pressure on Xetesk will become intolerable. And we can't afford that to happen.'
'Well why the bloody hell aren't they coming here then if we're so damned great?' shouted Pheone, losing her cool. She was already tired and hungry and now these elves were putting her under enormous pressure. Damn, why was she the only one of the council awake?
'Because they won't make it and we need the information we know they hold. We have to make preparations now and leave in a day. Every moment is critical.'
'Hold it again,' she said, drawing breath and waving a palm at Rebraal. 'What information?'
Rebraal smiled. 'I haven't been able to tell you everything yet. You're quite a forceful character, you know. Probably what my brother loved about you.'
'Among other things,' said Pheone, relaxing a little. 'Go on.'
'We can't beat them simply by fighting them here. Our job on Balaia, and more critically, in Xetesk, is to drain them of resource, force them to bring more demons here than they want to. Keep them at bay to give the time to strike them in their own dimension; cut off the mana flood and stop the invasion at a stroke.'
'And you think Xetesk has the knowledge to get people there?'
'We know they do,' said Rebraal. 'Sha-Kaan is certain that the development of their dimensional spells, together with the link they've always had with demons for mana channelling, means they will be able to open a gateway to the demon dimension that we can use.'
'And who're the lucky ones getting the job of going through it?'
Rebraal gestured to his left. 'Auum, his Tai, some Protectors, a little mage support and The Raven.'
Pheone shook her head, she'd heard it all now and wasn't the least bit surprised to find The Raven cropping up. 'Even after all their time away, why did I half expect you to say it would be them?'
'Perhaps because Ilkar is one of those under threat.'
'Ilkar?'
'I told you, the dead are vulnerable. The demons crave their souls and they are helpless.'
'Gods drowning, this is all too much to take in,' she said. She rubbed a hand across her forehead. 'Look, it'll be dawn in a few hours and I'm exhausted. Let's go through it again with the council, discuss it with the Al-Arynaar and we'll go if everyone agrees it is the right thing.'
Rebraal shook his head.
'What?' demanded Pheone. 'Look, I'm not saying I don't believe everything you have told me and I want to do everything I can to save Ilkar's soul if he is in danger as you say. And I want Balaia to be free. I just won't get driven at one solution when there may be others to consider.'
'The decision is made,' said Rebraal.
'Not yet it isn't.'
'Listen to him,' said Auum in a voice barely above a whisper but that sent a chill down her back. He leant forwards. 'You do not see what is before your face. Rebraal commands the Al-Arynaar. He will issue orders at dawn. They will accompany him. You can stay if you so choose.'
Rebraal held up his hands both to stop Auum saying any more and Pheone retorting.
'I didn't want to fall back on that but Auum is right. But we do need your help. Your college is the one allied most closely to elves. We would not be suggesting this if we thought there was any other way to save it long-term. I want you to agree to this willingly. But if you won't, I will take my warriors and mages anyway and you will be taken.'
'I'll be deserting all those people out there beyond the ColdRooms. Abandoning them.' Her voice was quiet now, defeated. They had left her no alternative.
'Sleep on it.'
'Sleep? Fat chance.'
'And then talk to your council, tell them what must be done. We will be leaving at first light the day after tomorrow.' Rebraal covered her hands with his. 'I believe you will be saving more lives this way than if you hold out here for another decade. The Raven believe it too.'
'Oh, Rebraal, I wish I could, I really do.'
Chapter 24.
Sha-Kaan had dispersed the broods across the plains of Teras in the hopes of maintaining peace while keeping the gathering close enough to react when the time came. Now, with Hirad and The Raven hidden above Triverne Lake and less than two days from Xetesk, he had called them together once more.
It would not be enough, he had reasoned, to simply shift to the home of the Arakhe and fight independently of one another. For this time only, they had to fight together; a single force with a solitary purpose to give The Raven support while they fought those who controlled the gateway and mana flow into Balaia.
He was reminded of the days of the uncontained rip in the skies that had joined Balaia and his home, Beshara. How different the conditions were this time. Then, warring broods had threatened the Kaan defence of the rip as it widened uncontrolled. The Raven had developed a way to close it before it became of a scale that would invite invasion of Balaia from enemy broods.
This time the gateway was managed and controlled by the Arakhe. Its origin somewhere in their dying dimension and its outlet, by all calculation, somewhere in the sky above Xetesk. And all brought about by Xeteskian foolhardiness. This time, the dragons could not afford to do battle over it because it could be the end of them all. And again, The Raven would have to succeed. As Hirad Coldheart would put it, be there at the sharp end.
As much as the sprawl of thousands of dragons on the plain had been impressive, the sight that he could see all around him now was simply awe-inspiring. Skoor, Naik, Veret, Kaan, Stara, Gost and the lesser broods, flying in their familial formations, providing honour guard for those gliding lazily at the centre of them all. Sha-Kaan had called the leaders of all the broods to this summit in the skies but even he was distracted by the sight of light dancing on a rainbow of scale colours. He basked in the sounds that echoed across the clear blue sky and delighted in the complexities as each brood tried to outdo its rivals.
'None have been idle during our short isolation,' rumbled Sha-Kaan.
'We all tired of waiting for your call,' said Caval-Skoor.
'I trust you have news of our ultimate destination,' said Koln-Stara. 'I am not alone in having those within my brood for whom this delay has bred suspicion.'
'And have any of you experienced attacks on your Broodlands?' Sha-Kaan waited. 'Perhaps that is because you and your broods have all had time to reflect on what I and Yasal had to say. Don't forget that was a principal reason for you to scatter across the plains.'
'Some of us are waiting for our scouts to return from our lands,' said Caval. 'I for one do not know if my Broodlands are safe. I am too distant from them to hear the calls of the attacked if such there are.'
'But do you really believe your lands are under threat?' asked Yasal-Naik. 'Surely the presence of every brood here is evidence enough that we are, for now at least, of one mind and purpose.'
'I have not counted the head of every dragon,' said Koln. 'None of us knows if members of any other brood are absent from here.'
'You are accusing us of something, Great Stara?' Eram-Gost's voice was sharp.
'I accuse no one of anything. My knowledge is incomplete.'
Sha-Kaan felt the tension rise among the circling dragons, instantly transmitted to the cohorts surrounding them. The displays of skill ceased. Ranks closed and distance was sought. All around them, broods massed and waited. How easy it was. How fragile the peace. High above them, Kaan and Naik dragons maintained their mixed flight and kept a watching brief.
'My broods, please,' said Sha-Kaan. 'We have no cause for mistrust. ' He let his words filter through the tension. 'Almost two thousand dragons are circling in this small area of Beshara. There are two ways this can go. It is either the greatest opportunity in our long and bloody history, or it is the greatest disaster to afflict us and all our melde dimensions. Remember: if the Arakhe reach us, all those on whom you depend will be vulnerable to them. I say again, we cannot afford to fail.'