'Sha-Kaan!' shouted Hirad over the tumult in the Cold Room. 'We have to get out. Now!'
'A little longer,' said the dragon, his voice choked and distant somehow. 'We can win this. We have to.'
But Hirad felt them at his neck and tearing at his clothes to reach the skin they could hurt and knew he was wrong. The Raven would soon be gone.
Endorr's body lay still on the floor of the Heart, crumpled into an untidy foetal position, hands clamped to his head, one knee up, the other leg splayed. A line of drool ran from his mouth and blood dripped occasionally from his nose. At least he was alive.
All this, Barras saw from a detachment of his conscious mind while the main thrust of his thought held sway in the increasingly futile fight to keep the crown from disintegrating.
The demons sensed victory and their taunts ripped at the armour of his willpower. The mana howled around him, flooding his mind with its stream, loosening his hold on the construct the Council had to maintain, and roaring in his ears behind the chiding laughter.
All around the circle, the strain was evident. Sweat, tears, frowns, grimaces and tense, over-tense, bodies created a living model of despair and imminent defeat. And on the ground, Endorr needed urgent help and there was nothing at all they could do for him. Gods, there was nothing they could do for themselves.
'How long?' gasped Seldane.
'As long as it takes,' said Kerela but they all knew that was not the question she had asked.
Barras felt a tear of frustration squeeze from his eye. They were trapped. Endorr's shield had failed and they could not let go of the crown to cast a holding spell because the demons would not give them the time. Yet their hold could not last forever and, with the last of their mana stamina spent, the result would be the same as if they stopped right now.
And yet they couldn't surrender to the demons. Not while there was the remotest chance that something from somewhere would serve to aid them.
Barras bit back further tears, this time of regret. For so long, he had looked forward to a gentle old age, cosseted in the loving embrace of the College he had served all his life. Then the Wesmen had attacked and he had managed to come to terms with his death as an heroic event in the defence of that self same College.
But this? This ignominious, futile and pointless end in a closed room far from fresh air and sunshine - an end that gave hope to no one and torment to all - this end was not fitting for an elf of his bearing, nor indeed for any of the Council. What they were on the verge of accepting as inevitable was not acceptable in any way, shape or form.
He raised his head from his chest, his vision still tuned to the mana spectrum, and began to knit threads back into the crown.
'Barras?' Strain took the power from Torvis' voice.
'I will be damned if I let those unholy ingrates walk my College and my dimension and I will not amble meekly to my own demise.' He punctuated every word with a stab from his mind that knitted more of the frail structure together, feeling the strength of desperation flooding his body.
'Great Gods in the ground, we aren't helpless,' grated Kerela. 'Any of you who feel you can, let's show these bastards who owns Balaia. If you can't, hang on and don't weaken.' And she joined Barras, somehow reinforcing the structure and more, making it grow.
It was then that they noticed the change. So slight at first that it was all but imperceptible. But it grew by degrees; a drop in the intensity of the mana gale and a distraction in the voices of those who taunted and goaded. It would have been easy to claim the credit but Barras knew their renewed effort had nothing to do with it. Incredibly, the miracle was happening. Something, or someone, had diverted the demons.
'This is the only chance we'll get!' Kerela's voice, stoked with all its old authority, called the Council to action. 'We've wasted enough of Kard's valuable time, now let's rid our city of this damned Shroud.'
The crown, once so dim, blazed again.
Will's screams threatened the concentration of the Raven mages more than the flooding, swarming demons that ran over their bodies. Ignoring their own pain, Hirad and The Unknown snatched and crushed, kicked and stamped at the hideous dolls that crawled and flew to their most defenceless prey.
With one hand, The Unknown plucked at the demons who sought his eyes while the other swept away the mages' attackers, all the while crouched to avoid Sha-Kaan's blue-covered, flailing tail.
For Hirad, the task was harder. Will, his short swords long forgotten, rolled on the floor, hands scrabbling uselessly, keening wails flung out hoarsely with each breath. His body heaved and flowed with the weight of demons attacking him and Hirad felt a rising nausea as he watched their claws and feet striking home.
'Will, keep still!' he shouted, shaking his own head vigorously to dislodge a beast he felt on top of his skull. 'Shit,' he gasped, feeling the cold creep across his scalp and a trail of blood run down his forehead and between his eyes. The little man writhed on oblivious, the demons covering his face.
Hirad clamped a hand on one of Will's shoulders and pulled his face up, tearing the creatures off his friend, ignoring the marks they left and keeping Will's eyes from their dread stares. And all the while Thraun, bemused and terrified, looked on, occasionally reaching around with his mouth to pluck a demon from his hide, though they largely ignored him. His animal soul was buried deep.
Everywhere, spent creatures fell to vanish back whence they came only to be replaced by more, their laughter a sound of awful glee as they peeled and gashed and tore.
A claw gripped Hirad's cheek and hooked back, tearing the skin. He swore and snatched the demon from his face, crushing it in one hand. Will escaped his grasp and rolled away, rubbing hard at his sides and face.
'Steady Will.' But the little man wasn't listening.
'Got to get out,' he wailed. 'Out . . .' He stood up and ran towards the edge of the Cold Room.
'No. Will, no!' Hirad launched himself at Will, striking his ankle as he ran. Will sprawled but rose again and Hirad could hear the demons goading him, telling him it was all right.
Belatedly spurred into action, Thraun barked and leapt after his companion, missing him by inches. Will reached the borders of the Cold Room and pushed a hand through. In that same moment, the demons and all their evil and malevolence disappeared. Ilkar, Erienne and Denser dropped their spell and the corridor was still once more.
In the quiet that followed, Hirad took in The Raven and Sha-Kaan. The Unknown Warrior sat with the relatively unscathed mages, his head a mass of oozing cuts, his arms swathed in a slick of blood. The Great Kaan rested on his belly, his scales outwardly sound but Hirad could feel his hurt and knew the demons had made him suffer for each one he had killed.
A piercing howl split the air. The Raven turned to see Thraun sitting by the prone form of Will, one paw resting on his chest, deep sorrow and blind fury clashing in his feral yellow eyes.
'Oh no,' breathed Erienne.
Will was not moving.
Chapter 23.
Barras imagined rather than heard the clang as the crown closed the DemonShroud but the wails of frustration and fury that diminished to nothing in a few heartbeats were real enough.
The Council had deployed the spell and with their release from its construction, came an intense relief and the briefest moment of euphoria. Vilif swayed and would have fallen but for the strong arms of Cordolan who was none too steady himself. Torvis, Seldane and Kerela all rushed to the crumpled but breathing form of Endorr while Barras kept the presence of mind to stumble across a line of books to the door to the Heart, pulling it open on to the pale, anxious face of Kard. A face that broke into a relieved smile on seeing him.
'Gods Barras . . . the sounds I was hearing.'
'We're all right. Endorr's hurt. Bring the Communion mages, the Shroud is down.'
Kard hesitated. 'Endorr?'
'There's nothing you can do. See to the defence. Go. Go.' Barras watched Kard go, then turned back into the Heart.
Kerela stood up and passed a hand over her forehead, her face grim. She caught Barras' eye.
'It isn't good. He's comatose.' She patted Cordolan on the shoulder. 'Take him to the healers, all of you. I'll wait for the Communion mages. Hurry.' Cordolan, Torvis and Seldane picked up Endorr's limp body between them and carried him out of the door. Vilif, still unsteady, walked behind them. Outside, Barras heard Cordolan order assistance.
'Thank you, Barras,' said Kerela.
'For what?'
'For showing us the way. All of us.'
Barras shrugged. 'It would have made no difference. If it hadn't-'
A square outline of light appeared near the door to the Heart. Kerela opened her mouth but Barras raised a hand to stop her speaking.
'It's all right, Kerela. I think you're going to learn something about me you never suspected.' With a whisper, the outline became solid and a figure stood silhouetted against the torchlight behind. He walked quickly forward, followed by others, one, a huge man, carrying a body in his arms and trailed very closely by a large dog or . . .
'Great Gods-' began Barras.
'Barras, don't worry,' said Ilkar. 'The wolf is a shapechanger. He's with us.'
He hadn't seen The Raven since their meeting at Triverne Lake before the casting of Dawnthief and assumed them trapped to the west of Understone Pass. But their bloodied appearance from what was, without a shadow of a doubt, a Dragonene portal threw him completely. None of them was Dragonene, he had known that when he met them, yet only a Dragonene could facilitate the opening of a portal and it was not Elu-Kaan who awaited him inside.
'How did you get here?'
'It's a long story,' said Ilkar, ushering The Raven straight out of the Heart, the non-mages struggling with the weight of mana and the Xeteskian and Dordovan unwelcome inside of it. 'But it'll have to wait. Two things first. We need immediate access to the Library and some urgent healing help for Will.'
Light dawned for Barras. 'You came through the Shroud?'
'Yes, but please, there isn't much time.'
'Indeed not,' said Kerela. 'But there is always a moment to welcome back a favourite son.' She kissed Ilkar on either cheek and squeezed his hands. 'As you can see, some of the Library is here because the Wesmen are at our gates. We're soon to engage in a battle we can't hope to win but The Raven always help the odds. We have to clear the Heart now to start our Communion preparations. Come, we'll get your sick man to the infirmary and take a few minutes to talk in the Council chambers.' She gestured for Ilkar to precede her, turning to look at Barras, her face not unkindly. 'You could have trusted me.'
'We can tell no one. It's not a question of trust.'
'Later,' said Kerela. Hirad Coldheart passed her, coming back into the Heart despite the discomfort caused by the mana.
'Sha-Kaan needs to speak to you,' he said, addressing himself to Barras.
'You? Dragonene?' Barras frowned.
Hirad nodded. 'Come on. Elu-Kaan is badly hurt. He needs your help.' He led the way back into the melde-corridor.
General Kard walked quickly to the kitchens at the base of the Tower and ordered the Communion mages to stand by outside the Heart. Immediately afterwards, he walked out a few steps into the silent courtyard, nodding his approval at the discipline of the Julatsans who had heeded the order to remain quiet after the Shroud was dispersed. He glanced up at the Wesmen's mobile watch-tower, which was lit by torches all night long. He couldn't believe that the guards inside had not noticed the disappearance of the Shroud but, by their silence, he assumed they had not. On the other hand he had noted before that, in the dark, it was very hard to see the swirling grey of the Shroud and there was no doubting that people saw what they expected to see. But the feel of evil was gone and the Wesmen had so far missed that too. He only hoped that it stayed that way for another hour. By then, not only would the tower attack mages be fully prepared, their preparation for casting had already begun, but the rest of his pre-emptive strike force would be completely ready to enter the streets of Julatsa.
He stood for a moment, knowing that all around the walls his men were primed and ready, having seen and, more than that, felt the Shroud disperse. Behind closed doors, his army, such as it was, waited for the order to attack and were receiving their final briefings. Elsewhere, the mages who would fly point and those who would cover the run back inside the walls from the ramparts were resting and practising the shapes that would release death over the Wesmen.
A commotion behind him in the Tower had him turn, then take two paces backwards in complete surprise. A huge warrior came striding towards him, bearing the body of another, much smaller, man in his arms. He was trailed very closely by what had to be a large wolf and, behind them, two of the Council hurried alongside soldiers carrying the limp body of Endorr. His jaw dropped and his hand strayed reflexively to the hilt of his sword.
'We're friends,' said the warrior brusquely. 'Now, which way to the infirmary? Quickly man, Will doesn't have much time.' Kard found himself pointing vaguely across the courtyard to the left. The warrior nodded and ran in the indicated direction, the wolf at his heels. Just behind them, the soldiers carried Endorr. Cordolan stopped briefly.
'The Raven are here, Barras is a Dragonene, or so it seems and . . . well, go to the chambers, Kerela is talking to them, I think.' He hurried after Endorr. Kard cast his gaze heavenwards and ran back inside, pausing only to speak to a Lieutenant.
'You know the drill,' he said. 'The orders haven't changed, just that things have moved very slightly in our favour. If the alarm sounds before I get back outside, take the tower and start the attack. Do you understand?'
'Yes sir.'
Kard made for the chambers.
Hirad joined the impromptu meeting between Kerela and The Raven's mages after acquainting Barras with Sha-Kaan. The Great Kaan was to return immediately to Wingspread, leaving the corridor open for Elu-Kaan to receive the aid he needed in the interdimensional streams under the watchful eye of Barras. He was introduced quickly to Kerela, Julatsa's senior mage, and General Kard, the middle-aged soldier in charge of the College's military defence. The Unknown would stay with Will and Thraun.
'The Communion is even now under way inside the Heart.' Kerela continued where she had paused as Hirad entered the room. 'We have no idea who will hear us and how soon they can reach us. What we do know is, as the sky lightens, the likelihood increases that the Wesmen will see the DemonShroud is gone. Once the attack starts, we think we can hold out for two, maybe three days, but beyond that, the College will be lost.'
'All right,' said Ilkar, plainly finding the situation difficult to take on board despite the information he'd been receiving. 'What odds do we have exactly?'
'I don't know exactly,' said Kerela. 'But a fighting level of between ten and fifteen to one is a good guess. Of course, we do have the walls and all the mages.'
'It's bad,' said Erienne gently. 'But it's not our primary concern, is it, Ilkar?' After what seemed an eternity, Ilkar shook his head.
'Kerela, we have not come here to help in the salvation of Julatsa.' He licked his upper lip before continuing. 'There is a threat to Balaia far greater than the Wesmen and The Raven are charged with halting it before it consumes us all, the Wesmen included.'
Kerela was quiet for a while. Denser maintained a considered silence, choosing to light his pipe and confine his reactions to noddings or shakings of his head. For once, Hirad was glad of his reticence.
'But Dawnthief. Didn't that guarantee us victory?' she asked, confusion dancing across her expression.
'Over the Wytch Lords, yes,' said Erienne. 'However, the casting has led to a tearing of the fabric of our dimension and it's a tear that is growing with every breath we draw. It links us to the dragons and eventually it will be too big for the Kaan to defend in their own space. Then we will have invasion by dragons.'
Kerela's silence was longer this time. There was a curious symmetry with the dimensional damage they described and the sudden extraordinary strength of the demons' fight to stop them dispersing the Shroud. She examined the faces of The Raven, searching for the lies and treachery that she already knew she would not find, and for the truth she knew she would find but did not want to believe.
'What is it you're looking for?' she asked.
'Septern's texts,' said Erienne almost before Kerela's words were out. 'Anything that will help us close a dimensional portal. A big one.'
Kerela nodded but spread her hands. 'Of course, access is yours. I'm sure Barras will confirm your words when he has finished with whatever he has to do. I suggest you begin in the Heart once our Communion is complete. Barras moved a number of key texts there and many of Septern's will be among them. But the Library contains better than a hundred of his works and associated researches. The duty mage will help you but it could be a long search.'
'We have two days at most,' said Ilkar, rising.
'Meantime,' said Hirad. 'If you'll allow, General Kard, you might benefit from talking to The Unknown Warrior and myself. If we're to fight for you, we need a say in how the defence is conducted.'
Kard bridled. 'I am well aware how to conduct a siege defence,' he said.
'But we are The Raven,' said Hirad. 'And we've been in more sieges than you could ever dream of. From both sides. Please, I insist.'
Kerela laid a hand on Kard's arm and nodded. 'Anything that might help us, we should use.'
Kard nodded. 'Very well, though I doubt you'll change the structure I have made.'
'So do I. But if we can improve upon one segment, it will be worth our while. The Unknown is in the infirmary.'
Kard gestured at the door. 'Come on. The Wesmen won't wait long.'
The Unknown Warrior had lain Will on a bed in the mercifully empty infirmary, knowing that neither poultices nor any manner of compresses or infusions would help. The little man was far beyond conventional intervention.
Thraun sat up at the bedside, occasionally licking Will's face reflexively but mostly just staring, his yellow eyes moist and large, his expression plainly desperate. The Unknown stroked him absently while Will was examined, following a precis of what had caused his condition.
The infirmary was a low stone and slate-roofed structure, the walls decked in bright tapestries and punctuated by windows. It held twenty well-spaced beds in two rows of ten, though The Unknown knew it would soon hold three or four times that many wounded and be wholly inadequate. At the far end of the single ward, with piles of spare bedding stacked to warm, a fire burned in a large grate, providing the calming sight of gentle flame, and heat for both patients and healing balms.
The Unknown truly felt for Will. He knew only too well the terror of the soul being snagged by the claws of demons. Dead or alive, it made no difference. The soul belonged in the body until it chose to travel beyond mortal confines.
Will's soul was not gone but the demons had most certainly touched it. And the ice chill of a demon's claw on the core of his being was the reason Will lay so deep in shock. It was a miracle his brain could tell his lungs to breathe. The Unknown was fairly sure the little man would die and, as the healer mage finished her attempted contact with Will's buried consciousness, the blank look on her face told its own story.