The Raven would be triumphant. It would soon be over.
Vuldaroq and Heryst had both been enjoying the news from Xetesk. Noting that their spies were both deeply embedded in the Dark College and highly skilled, they had settled back in their respective colleges to hear, through a cooperative Communion, about the elven raid that had brought such chaos and apparent destruction.
While piqued that they had not been consulted, there was satisfaction in any mayhem and Vuldaroq found himself unwilling to appear disgruntled. Well, not completely. He wasn’t enamoured with the Al-Arynaar mage who conducted the Communion. She was under duress from Lysternan and Dordovan mages, who felt the need for her to deal direct with their rulers. She, it appeared, didn’t feel it was any of their business. It was not a way in which he was used to being spoken. Nor Heryst, though the Lysternan leader had other reasons not to make protestation. The shame of letting The Raven escape was hard to face down.
‘And when exactly do you expect your raiding party to return?’ Vuldaroq remained fascinated that anyone could breach the walls of the city so easily, let alone the college but it had most definitely happened.
‘That is unknown,’ said Dila’heth. ‘Perhaps they will not return at all. We cannot be sure.’
‘But you are sure they have completed their tasks inside,’ pushed Vuldaroq.
‘Your spies are more able to draw that conclusion. Clearly, the news that the library has been raided is very good. Auum will die before giving up the Aryn Hiil, should he have found it there.’
She sounded very tired. The pressure of the siege front, the second failure of the Julatsan mana focus and the stress of talking to the leaders of two colleges must be taking its toll.
‘I am sorry that we press you,’ said Heryst. His voice drifting across Vuldaroq’s mind like balm on a wound. ‘But there are other questions. Did not your raiding party seek to cause damage to the Dark College as part of their brief?’
‘Your dispute is your business. We are, and have always been here in order to recover what was stolen from us,’ said Dila’heth. ‘When we have confirmation, we will move north to Julatsa as has always been understood.’
‘Of course,’ said Vuldaroq. ‘And our heartfelt thanks for your aid, however given, will always be with the elven nation.’
‘Do not patronise me, Dordovan,’ said Dila’heth. ‘Your conflicts have caused harm on Calaius. Xetesk may be in the dock but none of you are blameless.’
‘Young lady I—’ began Vuldaroq.
‘I think what Vuldaroq is saying is that we are eternally grateful for your intervention. We have not deliberately sought to harm your country but we do seek to end any chance of that harm worsening by deposing the current Xeteskian regime.’
‘I apologise,’ said Dila. ‘This war makes its mark on us all.’
‘Indeed it does,’ said Vuldaroq. ‘Please do not take offence.’
‘I do not.’
‘Good,’ said Vuldaroq. He drew a breath. ‘One more thing. We understand there is trouble in the Xeteskian tower complex and catacombs, though we are unable to get too close for obvious reasons. I had no idea the elves were attacking there too.’
‘They are not. The Ra—’ Dila caught herself but it was too late.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Vuldaroq wasn’t quite convinced of what he had just half heard.
‘There are other targets in the college,’ said Dila hurriedly. ‘I was not privy to all the TaiGethen’s discussions with their advisers.’
‘Their advisers being The Raven, clearly,’ said Vuldaroq casually.
‘That is not what I said,’ replied Dila’heth frostily. ‘Now if there is nothing more, I have a war to fight tomorrow.’
‘You understand that the allies seek The Raven,’ said Heryst. ‘They are criminals and must be arrested.’
‘They are friends to the elves,’ said Dila carefully.
‘Meaning?’ demanded Vuldaroq.
‘Meaning, if I knew where they were, I would not place them in the hands of those who would harm them.’
‘They are outlaws,’ said Vuldaroq.
‘They saved the elven nation almost single-handed amongst men. Their sacrifice is enough to absolve them of any crime in the eyes of elves.’
‘Tell me,’ said Vuldaroq. ‘Are they in Xetesk or are they not?’
‘I trust you heard my previous utterances,’ said Dila. ‘Would you like me to repeat them?’
‘We will talk more when you are perhaps less tired,’ said Vuldaroq.
‘I think not.’
The connection broke, leaving Vuldaroq alone with Heryst.
‘I trust your humiliation is now complete, my Lord Heryst.’
‘Stop your tiresome jibes, Vuldaroq. We have serious matters to discuss.’
‘Do we?’ Vuldaroq smiled to himself. Not for long.
‘The Raven are no longer just an irritation and a band of fugitives, ’ said Heryst. ‘And before you snap back, I think you should consider not what happens when they escape Xetesk, but what happens if they do not. I will not treat you as a fool. You will be as aware as I am of the rumours surrounding Erienne. It appears she is locked in the Dark College. Dystran will know what we do. What if she should be captured?’
Vuldaroq considered. ‘We will have to rescue her. For the good of Balaia.’
‘Indeed,’ said Heryst. ‘And not just the good of one or other of us. If she is who we believe, she will not be silenced like her daughter.’
‘But whose hands will she fall into, eh?’
Heryst sighed. ‘That cannot be the issue, save that it should not be Xetesk’s. Please, Vuldaroq, let us not compete over this. It is too important to us both.’
‘She is Dordovan,’ said Vuldaroq. ‘She belongs with me.’
‘If she is a woman of the One, she belongs to none of us, that is the problem.’
‘If you capture her, you will surrender her to me,’ said Vuldaroq.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Any capture attempt has to be a joint venture. Any reward has to be shared,’ replied Heryst.
‘But what if they should escape and fall into your hands, eh?’
‘Or yours?’
‘Perhaps we must agree to differ on this issue,’ said Vuldaroq.
‘Vuldaroq!’ shouted Heryst, his voice echoing painfully around the Dordovan Arch Mage’s skull. ‘This is not an argument about supply chains or battlefield communication. This affects the future of Balaia. A Balaia that you and I want to see returned to balance. Am I not right?’
Vuldaroq was silent.
Chapter 26
What had begun as a desperate breakout attempt became a slaughter. Panicked by the TaiGethen at their backs, the Xeteskian guardsmen had pushed forwards towards the Raven. The resultant jostling and lack of space meant no room to bring crossbows to bear and had brought first Thraun and then Hirad to the helpless mages.
The barbarian pulled his dagger blade from the chest of the last man standing and let the body fall, life fading. The silence was palpable, broken only by the sounds of hard breathing. His whole body ached. Blood ran from six separate cuts; the worst of them, on his chest, stung with his sweat.
‘We should move,’ said The Unknown, though the set of his body suggested he desired anything but.
Blood smeared his face and body, most of it not his own. He supported an angry wound below one ear and his arms were blood-slick and crisscrossed with cuts. Next to him, Darrick’s face was ashen beneath the red spatters, one hand pressing hard on his hip. Rebraal looked to be in a state of shock, though it could have been purely surprise that they had survived.
Auum picked his way quickly through the covering of corpses and fatally wounded on the floor.
‘Denser?’
Hirad pointed to the research room and followed the TaiGethen with his gaze. He strode up to Denser, grabbed his arm and pointed up the stairs.
‘Evunn,’ he said by way of explanation.
‘What?’ Denser lo
oked up sharply from smoothing Erienne’s hair, irritated at the interruption.
‘Please?’ Auum frowned and sighed. He called for Rebraal and snapped out a stream of elvish. Something in his voice pricked Hirad’s attention, Rebraal was already heading for the stairs.
‘It’s Evunn,’ he said for Denser’s benefit. ‘He’s been hit by a spell.’
‘He’s not the only one,’ said Hirad grimly.
‘No, but he’s alive. Auum says his mind is gone.’
‘Oh no,’ muttered Denser. He hurried out of the research room. ‘Bastards, that’s cruel.’
‘What is it?’ Hirad found it all bemusing. It was all he could do to remain standing. His legs were shaking. He leaned against a wall.
‘MindMelt,’ said Denser. ‘Got to be.’
Auum followed him out, Hirad touched his arm and indicated the charred remains of the elves by the door. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
There was the faintest flicker in the elf’s eyes and a tightening of the muscles in his face through his smeared paint. Auum glanced up the stairs to see Duele and Rebraal with Denser. He walked slowly towards the bodies, Hirad indicating that Darrick should give him room. For a few moments he stood looking down at them, hunched in the attitudes of their deaths. The FlameOrbs had consumed them, six TaiGethen and two Al-Arynaar mages. They were blackened beyond recognition, fused together, clothing and flesh burned away exposing bone and sinew.
Reverently, Auum knelt by each one, placing a hand on the head, speaking a few words and kissing the lipless mouth. When he turned and rose, Hirad caught the grief and fury in his eyes as he swept past and back up to Evunn.
‘We aren’t safe here,’ said Myx, appearing at one of the drawing-room doors, leaning heavily on Sian’erei.
Hirad’s sarcastic retort stopped at his lips. One half of Myx’s face was burned and blistered, one eye swollen shut. His armour was shredded down the same side and blood oozed through the rents. He winced as he breathed and the air dragged over scorched lungs. The barbarian nodded and offered his support, freeing Sian.
‘Thraun, you all right to carry Erienne?’ he asked.
Thraun nodded, blood dripping from his nose, and limped back into the research room. There was a dark stain on his trousers just below the right knee. Hirad watched him pick up Erienne before turning himself and starting up the stairs.
‘Tell me we’re close to the way out,’ he said.
‘No,’ said Myx. ‘They knew we would come this way if I was with you and they will know where I am headed. But, if we hurry, we might get there before they catch up with us again.’
Hirad raised his eyebrows. ‘We aren’t in a fit state to go far.’
‘There is nowhere else,’ said Myx. ‘This is your only chance.’ He coughed, face screwing up, the air misting red in front of him.
‘Hang in there, Myx.’
Approaching the end of the landing, voices were raised. Auum was remonstrating with Denser, Rebraal trying to translate as best he could.
‘Tell him I can’t just fix him. It’s not that simple,’ said Denser.
‘He says your mages made him this way and you can put it right,’ responded Rebraal.
‘Maybe. But not here and not now.’ Denser’s face was reddening, his temper at breaking point.
Auum reacted angrily to his statement, jabbing a finger back towards the hallway. The Unknown increased his pace.
‘Hey!’ he said. ‘Enough. All of you.’ Whatever it was in his tone, it transcended language barriers. ‘Thank you. Now, Denser, is he dying?’
‘He’s not in immediate danger, no.’
‘Is he deteriorating?’
‘Slowly.’
‘Are a few hours going to make any difference?’
‘Not really.’
‘Right.’ The Unknown looked squarely at Auum. ‘Rebraal, translate this, it’s the final word. We can’t help Evunn now but he isn’t going to die. We will carry him out like we will carry Erienne. But if we don’t move right away, none of us will get out. So we are going. Now. Myx, which way?’
‘Follow me.’ Myx and Hirad, moving quickly together now, walked ahead and turned right at the end of the landing and down to the blank wall. Myx reached into what transpired to be an illusion and slid back a panel. ‘New building going on. If Dystran doesn’t come through this way, it’ll save us some time.’
The light was poor but was enough to walk by. Every surface was rugged and unfinished, the curve of the tunnels often not far above their heads. Myx had to stoop. In places, chambers had been completed, but elsewhere all that could be seen were marks on the bare walls.
The lattice was uncomplicated thus far with little more than the major corridors fashioned. Myx took them in more or less a straight line, angling down then back up. It was a walk that had no discernible end and Hirad’s nervousness grew with his awareness of their vulnerability.
One arm around Myx’s waist to support the struggling Protector, Hirad carried his blade in the other. He tried to ignore the pain firing across his chest while concentrating on listening hard for sounds ahead and treating every turn and crossing as a potential ambush.
But it was difficult to maintain, this made more so by their pace which slowed remorselessly. Myx’s breathing was truly tortured, his legs more badly burned than he wanted to let show. Thraun, with Erienne in his arms and refusing to pass her to The Unknown, limped badly. Darrick was forced to lean on Rebraal, his hip bleeding steadily. And the surviving TaiGethen carried their sick brother between them. Only Denser and Sian were uninjured though Hirad could only guess at what was going through their minds.
The corridors became progressively darker and somewhere ahead, water was dripping, both factors evidence of spells decaying. Apparently, work was suspended now the war was on. Abruptly, Myx stumbled and fell to his knees, gasping, his armour pulling across his burns.
‘Come on, big fella,’ said Hirad, ignoring the fresh blood from his chest while he half dragged the Protector upright.
‘Just a moment,’ said Myx, his voice hoarse.
Hirad feared for him. It wasn’t his legs that had caused him to stumble. His breath was short and agonised, his face covered in sweat and his body carried a tremble. Behind them, Auum spoke and Rebraal translated.
‘We are pursued.’
‘Shit,’ managed Myx. ‘It’s Dystran. It has to be.’ He pushed himself on, breaking into a half-trot. ‘Not far. Come on.’
He was ahead of Hirad, using the wall to propel himself along. The Raven ran blind behind him, knowing that if he fell, they were lost. Hirad didn’t know how many turns they made, he couldn’t gauge the slopes they travelled, he lost count of the side passages they crossed. Head down, every pace pulling at his wounds, he ran, looking behind him to check his friends were all with him when he trusted himself not to fall. He couldn’t hear the pursuit but the haunted look on Rebraal’s face told him it wasn’t far enough behind.
Ahead, the failing blue light was replaced by a misty grey luminescence.
‘Tunnelling spell. It’s decaying like the light,’ said Denser as they ran. ‘It should be as bright as the sun.’
The sound of water was louder, a steady trickle into puddles. The going was slippery and muddy underfoot, the walls even more ragged, sharp edges of rock protruding from dense wet clay.
‘Where are we now?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Outside . . . the . . . city.’ Myx struggled to frame the words. ‘Not far.’
And it wasn’t. At the edge of the grey light, Myx turned down a narrow unfinished side passage ending in a blank wall. Again he felt inside the illusion and pushed a panel aside, waiting for them all to come through before closing it.
‘Can you lock that, Denser?’ he asked.
Denser shook his head. ‘Barely. I’ll try but it won’t add up to much. After that I’ll be spent.’
He stepped up and began casting.
‘What about Erienne?’ asked Hirad.
‘Wh
atever I do here, we need another mage to help me. Soon.’
‘I’ve got an idea. Don’t worry, Denser. I’ll see to it,’ said Hirad. ‘So, where now?’
Myx pointed down the passage they found themselves in. It was finished and well lit, apparently in regular use. A chamber lay to their right, empty and chill. Ten yards ahead, a large leather bound basket sat on the floor. It was attached to a rope that disappeared through a sizeable hole in the roof.
‘Oh, great,’ muttered Hirad.
‘Izack said he assumed they were getting in supplies,’ said The Unknown. ‘Looks like he was right.’
Myx nodded, his breath a little more even now but still pained. ‘The top is hidden by illusion. There’s a grille to stop animals falling as well. It comes out in a bank of gorse and bracken to the west of the city. It has proved useful.’
‘What is it usually, a ventilation shaft?’ asked Darrick.
‘Yes. There are six altogether. Four have been sealed. The other is not far from here.’
Denser turned from the door. ‘I’ve done what I can. It won’t keep them for long. Certainly not if Dystran is with them.’
‘Right, let’s get moving.’ The Unknown made quick assessment of the rope and basket, staring up into the dark above. ‘Right. Thraun, me and you will go up, Sian between us. We’ll haul up Evunn and Erienne in the basket. Denser, you with Erienne, Auum or Duele with Evunn. We’ll have to pray it’ll hold but it looks strong enough to me. Then, climb one by one, fast as you can. The remainder have to hold off any attack. If it gets bad, shout, I’ll be back down. Go.’
He pointed at Thraun. The shapechanger passed Erienne to Denser, who stood her into the basket. It would be just big enough for them both standing upright. Thraun stood on the edge of the basket, grabbed the rope and disappeared up the shaft, which was something in the order of five feet wide. They could hear him bracing himself against the sides, dust and grit showering down. Soon after he disappeared, Sian’erei went after him.
‘How high?’ asked The Unknown.
The Raven Collection Page 240