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The Klene was being buffeted again by the void of inter-dimensional space. The dead had been left outside the walls of the city, no more than a mile distant, and asked to trust that The Raven could deliver their loved ones to them soon. The Raven, returning to Xetesk, had no idea how they were to make good on their promise.

Sha-Kaan's and Jonas's minds were locked together while the dragon sought Diera through him. All The Raven quartet could do was hang on and hope purchase was found soon. Sha-Kaan would be unable to make absolute connection with Diera so their landing was going to be hit and miss but it was better than nothing.

Sol, hanging on to one of Sha-Kaan's forelimbs, couldn't take his eyes off Jonas. His back throbbed and occasionally sent shooting pains throughout his body but Ilkar had done enough to give him some movement and had staunched the bleeding.

Jonas looked so terribly small where he lay in the crook of Sha-Kaan's other forelimb. He was not conscious though he burbled and cried out from time to time. His face was pale and sweating and his breathing was too shallow and fast.

'How long can he keep this up?' asked Sol.

'I will not let him suffer harm,' said Sha-Kaan, opening one of his huge blue eyes, its centre a flat black slit. 'He is strong. In his father's image.'

'And how's it going?' asked Hirad. 'This is making me feel seasick.'

He and Sirendor had secured themselves to Sha-Kaan's left rear claws with belts. Hirad was clutching the claw in both arms too. Sirendor appeared to be asleep, though how he was able to do that was beyond Sol. The Klene thumped again, like a ship on a down swell.

'Frail human,' rumbled Sha-Kaan. 'We can sense Diera. We know she is calm and safe. But the city is not so large that I can open the Klene anywhere and expect to find her. If we are wrong by five per cent, we might find ourselves inside the college. Patience, my old friend. It will not be long.'

Sol smiled to himself. How gentle the great dragon was and how terrifying he had been when first they had encountered him. A lot of years ago now. But he had changed from the haughty king of his brood and user of man into something so rich and deep. Jonas loved him. Hirad did too. Sol could understand why, and a pang of jealousy crept into his heart for that which he could never fully know himself.

The Klene thumped again. Sol imagined it as a tail behind a behemoth, swishing this way and that, searching for a comfortable place to coil. And again. Sha-Kaan's eye flicked open once more, and this time his pupil was narrow to the point of invisibility. A sound reverberated through the Klene like a distant impact. A second was much closer.

'We are discovered,' said Sha-Kaan. 'Prepare to-'

To Sha-Kaan's right a section of the Klene crashed inwards. One of the huge fireplaces disappeared into fragments. A howling wind tore into the chamber, grabbing and sucking.

'Hold on!' shouted Sha-Kaan above the din of the gale.

The dragon's neck twisted and his head darted towards the hole, which was as big as a house. Loose debris was being dragged out of the hole, through which Sol could see nothing but a roiling brown mass shot with pale flecks like snow. Sha-Kaan opened his mouth and discharged a searing tongue of flame into the void. The sound of screams was surely a figment of Sol's imagination.

What wasn't his imagination was the increase in the power of the wind in the Klene, nor the voracious nature of the hole in its side. The ragged edge was growing by the heartbeat. Sol saw pieces being torn away and sucked into the void. And Sha-Kaan was beginning to slide himself.

'How do we stop this?' yelled Sol, but the noise was far too great to be heard.

Like the scything of a mighty claw, a rent was dragged in the left-hand wall of the Klene. The wind of the void was all-consuming. It roared from side to side. It tore the mantels from the walls, ash from the grates and the Kaan crest from above the Great Kaan.

Down on the ground, Ilkar, Hirad and Sirendor were hanging on desperately to Sha-Kaan's claws even while the dragon was being dragged slowly across the floor to the larger hole. Sha-Kaan's head spun and he looked first at Jonas before twisting down to Sol.

'We must make purchase on Balaia. Then I can fight.'

'Anywhere,' said Sol.

The Klene rattled as if some ancient God had picked it up and shaken it. Sol's grasp was broken. Jonas, poor unconscious Jonas, was thrown like a rag doll into the teeth of the wind and sucked helplessly towards the gaping, expanding opening. Sha-Kaan roared.

'Jonas!' Sol cried and tried to steady himself.

Pressed against the floor, he found a little purchase. Above him, Sha-Kaan's neck writhed and twisted as he fought to keep Jonas from being drawn into the void. But it was as if the wind had fingers and they plucked the boy away from him.

Sha-Kaan moved to place his bulk against the hole. A second rent appeared in the opposite wall. And a third. Sol saw the flash of metal beyond, just for a beat. Jonas had woken and was screaming for help. There was blood on his face. Sol didn't pause. He sprang from the floor, diving upwards.

The wind caught him and propelled him further up. Jonas flashed by. Sol reached out a hand and grasped his son's leg. Their combined weight brought them both down to the stone floor, hard. Sol landed back first, Jonas square on top of him, winding him. His wound flared pain.

'It's all right, son. It's all right, I've got you.' The stone floor shuddered. Slabs rippled and bucked. 'Oh no.'

Sol turned his head where he lay. Sha-Kaan was moving across the floor towards them. Of Hirad, Sirendor and Ilkar, there was no sign. The Great Kaan's head snaked out, mouth agape. A thundering crash reverberated through the Klene. The wind strengthened yet more. And Sol, with Jonas clinging to him, was sliding feet first along the floor.

'Hang on!'

About ten yards ahead of them much of the floor had gone. They picked up speed. Sol tried to dig in his feet but there was no grip to be had on the polished stone. A shadow whipped overhead. Sha-Kaan's head and neck arced past and thrust into the hole. Flame gorged out. He withdrew.

Sol's slide was unstoppable. His back bumped over broken stone at the edge of the hole. He flailed with one hand and gripped briefly but the gale was too strong.

'Close your eyes, Jonas. It'll be over soon.'

Sol felt hot breath firing over his shoulder. His vision filled with scale and fangs and he was airborne once again. He grabbed Jonas even closer to him as they swung wildly in the air. Sha-Kaan's neck withdrew to the formal 's' shape and he reared high. Sol felt the bone of the dragon's fangs scrape his shoulders and upper right arm. Sha-Kaan held him as lightly as he could.

Through the smashed floor of the Klene, in the midst of the maelstrom, Sol could make out indistinct shapes.

'What now?' he yelled.

'Now we land,' said Jonas, and he'd be damned if the boy wasn't actually smiling.

Abruptly, the Klene stopped its juddering and the wind lost much of its power. Sol could still hear the roar as the chaos passed by the openings the Garonin had torn in the fabric of the Klene but the sucking and grabbing strength had ebbed almost to nothing.

Sha-Kaan moved swiftly, placing Jonas and Sol on the ground.

'Beware,' he said. 'They are outside.'

Sol became acutely aware that he had neither armour nor weapons. He backed away to a safer section of wall, keeping Jonas behind him.

'Where are the others?' he asked, imagining them being pulled helplessly into eternal night.

'They chose a safer place to be,' said Sha-Kaan, glancing back over his body.

And there they were. All three of them. Unclasping their arms from the very tip of Sha-Kaan's tail. Hirad stood and brushed himself down; Ilkar was rolling his shoulders and Sirendor flexing his legs. All looked battered and bruised. But still here.

Without warning, Sha-Kaan turned his head and breathed fire into the gaping hole in the floor. Flame boiled around its edges, smoke billowed. This time Sol did hear the screams above the roaring of the wind.

'You must leave now,' said Sha-Kaan.

'We need to stay and fight with you,' said Hirad.

'No. They cannot hurt me. In a blink I will be back on Beshara.'

The door began to open inwards, revealing a night-time scene.

'Where are we?' asked Sirendor.

'We're about to find out,' said Hirad.

Sol walked towards the door, the others following him.

'Jonas,' said Sha-Kaan.

'Yes, Sha.'

'Your mother is quite close. Go. I will be here when you need me again.'

Jonas smiled. Sol put an arm about his shoulder, as much for support for himself as comfort for his son. His back, shoulder, arm and legs were all protesting.

'I must warn you of one thing,' said Sha-Kaan. Sol turned. The dragon was not looking at them but tracking something beyond the Klene. 'They are closer than you think. And they move faster than you know. Good luck, my friends.'

The Raven and Jonas walked out into a mercifully quiet night in Xetesk.

Chapter 23.

Auum haunted the empty streets by the east gates of Xetesk. Miirt and Ghaal ran the rooftops above him. A ClawBound pair sat in the shadows on the gates themselves, sampling the air and looking back at the college or out over the open ground to where the clouds were gathering.

Sol and Hirad were here somewhere, he could sense it. Diera's mumblings had been mere confirmation. The ClawBound had chosen the hiding place in the small park well. The bordering houses belonged exclusively to the mage elite and all of them were ensconced full time in the college. The odd servant had been in residence but none now remained at large to cause any trouble. It was amazing how good a jailor a single wolf could be. No bars had been necessary.

Auum heard footsteps. He faded into the shadows and indicated to Ghaal and Miirt that an intruder was approaching. A man appeared from an intersection of the narrow, winding artisans' quarter. He turned right and towards Auum. The TaiGethen withdrew further into his chosen doorway and ceased all movement. He watched.

The man was dressed in plain shirt and trousers and wore a light cloak about his shoulders. He was of average height, with short dark hair. He appeared unhurried. However, his actions marked him out as a man not merely out for a stroll. He was criss-crossing the street, crouching occasionally and laying his hands on blank stone or timber. Each time he did so, he uttered words of incantation.

Auum waited and watched. There was little point in doing anything else. The man, clearly a mage, moved closer. He crouched to attend to a spell not five feet from Auum, crabbed two paces to his left and saw Auum's boots.

'Ah,' he said.

He tried to leap out of the way but Auum's hand was already around his neck, pushing his head back and lifting him upright.

'Ah, indeed,' said Auum. 'Do not attempt to cast. Do not attempt to cry out, or I will kill you.'

'What do you want? Why are you here? We thought . . .'

'Speak. Thought what?'

'Thought . . . you were hiding elsewhere.'

'Then I have disappointed you. What are you doing here?'

'Just walking. These are the streets where I was born,' said the mage brightly.

'And where you will die if you lie to me again. You were studying trap spells - wards you call them. Why?'

The mage's brightness had deserted him and he had begun to shake. He put his hands to Auum's to try and shift his grip. It was like trying to crush stone.

'Please, you're hurting me.'

Auum cocked his head. 'I know. What of it?'

'I'll tell you if you let me go.'

Auum shrugged and released his grip. The mage turned to bolt and collided with Miirt's fist. He doubled over, coughing and retching, dropping to his knees.

'Speak,' said Auum.

'It's nothing,' gasped the mage, wrapping his arms around his stomach. 'We have to test the segments of the defensive grid. Check the linkage. Can't afford any errors.'

Auum looked up at his Tai. Both shook their heads.

'We do not believe you. Try harder.'

'It's true, I swear.'

'Kill him,' said Auum.

A short blade flashed in Ghaal's hand. He dragged back the mage's head and struck down, stopping a hair's breadth from breaking the skin. The mage fouled himself and held up his hands.

'Please no,' he said, wheezing and crying. 'Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry.'

'Speak.'

'Septern changed the exclusions of the wards. We hoped you were still in the grid somewhere. Needed to trap you here. Anything larger than a dog will trip them when they go active. I was checking to see the exclusion formula had filtered down to the periphery. Please, I'm telling the truth.'

'Yes.' Auum took a step back, happy to be away from the stench of excrement and urine. 'When will the grid be active?'

'When all the mages have reported back to the college.'

'You will not be reporting back,' said Auum.

'Please!' The mage held out his hands in supplication. 'I told you the truth. Please.'

'You will come with us. We have a place where you can clean yourself.'

'Yes, yes of course. Thank you.'

Auum's nose wrinkled at the pathetic gratitude. 'You may be of some use to us yet.'

'I'm hoping you recognise this place,' said Hirad.

They'd walked out into an area of scrubland that bordered the blank faces of warehouses. The scrub was littered with pieces of stone and broken timber. A quick scout of the immediate area had told them that the college was to their north. Directly opposite the warehouses, more buildings rose about a half a mile away, and the city walls loomed a further mile or so distant.

Sol was sitting with his back to a wall while the pain in various parts of his body settled. He'd fussed over Jonas's scrapes and cuts until the boy had pushed him away with a comment about his age and ability to look after himself. Sol felt tired and at a loss.

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