Back to the knoll she raced, to flee into her own body, and as she regained possession of herself she managed to cry out, “Discovered!” before she slumped forward into a faint.
And from somewhere within the Black Fortress, a huge gong began tolling out an alarm.
7
NEXUS
WINTERDAY, 5E1010
[THE FINAL YEAR OF THE FIFTH ERA]
“Aylis!” cried Aravan, starting forward, even as she slowly toppled sideways to lie as one asleep. But Bair grabbed onto Aravan’s arm and held him back, saying, “Nay, kelan, the ‹fire› yet flows. I think it would not do to break the stream.”
Though agitated, nevertheless, Aravan waited, shifting from foot to foot, straining to hold back, while a league and a mile away, the alarm gong in the Black Fortress continued to sound out a deep tolling.
Moments passed, and moments more, but at last Bair said, “Now.”
Quickly, Aravan stepped through the arc of Magekind and unto Aylis’s side, where he knelt and cradled her in his arms. “Chier. Chier,” he whispered.
Mages of the arc got to their feet, all but Delynn, who remained seated. “Fear not, Aravan,” said the Sorceress. “It taxes a Seer to do what Aylis did, and I am surprised that she managed to speak ere she swooned. But she will waken soon, for her spirit is now fully within her form.”
Several more moments passed, and at last Aylis opened her gold-flecked green eyes to stare into Aravan’s sapphire blue gaze.
“Love?” she asked, frowning.
“Just counting the freckles ’pon your cheeks, Chier,” said Aravan, smiling. Then he kissed her lightly.
Even as he aided her to her feet, Aylis’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, my, I was discovered. We must get to my father, for there are more than we guessed might be.”
“Twelve, daughter, twelve?”
“Yes, Father,” replied Aylis, now fully recovered from the strain of her casting. “Twelve Black Mages. Yet whether there are additional dark Wizards, I cannot say.” She stood among a small gathering of Elves and Wizards, Aravan at her side, Bair across from her, the allied forces nearby.
Still, the alarm gong in the Black Fortress rang.
Cadir sighed. “We planned for one or two, but twelve?”
Dalor shook his head. “As jealous as they are of one another, for that many Black Mages to be together is a rarity. I wonder why they might have gathered?”
Fedor, a tall, skinny Mage standing next to Alamar, glanced at Bair and then at Aravan and said, “Mayhap it has to do with the death of Gyphon. Perhaps they yet have ambitions.”
“Of course they have ambitions,” snapped Alamar, “but without a god at their beck, we are more than a match for Black Magekind.”
“All of us on Vadaria can defeat them,” said Dalor, “but here with the numbers we have versus theirs?”
Fedor glumly nodded. “Twelve Black Mages in the bastion is certainly more than we bargained for, and if there are others, well. .”
“Why would this be a problem?” asked Ruar. “I mean, there are seven nines of you Mages among us. Is that not enough to counter twelve?”
Aylis shook her head. “It isn’t the number of Mages we have, but rather the amount of ‹fire› at our beck.” She sighed and gestured at the fortress. “Those vile Mages will wrest what life force they need from the Foul Folk within, whereas we will use only our own.”
Dalor nodded in agreement, then said, “And since more ‹fire› can be wrenched from those in agony, from those who suffer, and because there will be plenty of pain, anguish, and distress in the battle to come, then even more fuel will be at the beck of Black Magekind.”
“So twelve can overpower sixty-three?” asked Ancinda Soletree.
Fedor glumly sighed and said, “Mayhap.”
“If they prevail, then likely they will defeat our army as well,” said Arandor.
“And they were raising a corpse?” asked Cadir.
Aylis sighed. “They were. A Hlok.”
Cadir turned to Alamar. “Then they will know all about us: that an army of Elves and Mages is on Neddra, as well as our numbers and kinds.”
“They will?” asked Ruar.
“Nothing can be hidden from the dead,” said Cadir.
“True,” said Branwen. “But only if they can single out that particular slain Hlok’s voice from among the myriad other dead all vying to speak.”
“What we need is a plan,” said Bair.
“And before dawn, I think,” said Arandor.
Aylis frowned in thought and then said, “What if we hold off our assault on the fortress until after the Mages are slain?”
Aravan turned up a hand and looked at her. “Chier?”
“That way they won’t have the agony of the dying to draw ‹fire› from,” said Aylis.
“They’ll pull it out of the living, regardless,” said Dalor.
“Aye, but Aylis is right: less life force will be at their disposal,” said Cadir.
“Look,” snapped Alamar, “I say our plan changes little: we seven nines, especially those of us who can wield the elements-fire, water, earth, air, and aethyr-specifically take on the Mages, and let Elvenkind deal with all else.”
Branwen took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “We thought there might be Black Mages in the fortress. Still, I think it is as Alamar says: the plan changes little, no matter that there are twelve. Yet I and my kind are better suited to dealing with the Helsteeds and Vulgs, rather than trying to bring down the Mages. Likewise, Dalor and those of his training are suited to healing rather than battling dark power. And the ones of us who can cast illusions are more adept at taking on the Foul Folk, for Black Magekind can winnow through such visions and sounds, whereas the Spawn cannot.”
Alamar nodded in agreement. “I and my like will meet them head-on, while all else support us.”
Cadir said, “Forget not that my school can do great damage as well, and we will join you in the direct battle.”
Aylis said, “We Seers will locate them for you.”
Arandor glanced at Bair and said, “I deem there should be a change in my plan.”
Bair frowned. “How so?”
“My forces are divided in seven companies, one for each of the nines. Instead of an immediate assault against the fort, we will stand back and defend Magekind from the Foul Folk until the nines are victorious, after which we will take the battle to the Rupt.”
“Yet what if the Spaunen bring the battle to us?” asked Tillaron.
“Then in spite of loosing fire for the Dark Mages to use,” said Arandor, “we must fight.”
Bair slowly nodded, and turned to the other captains and the leaders of each nine and asked, “Are we in agreement then?”
Silverleaf said, “Would that we could get right at the Spaunen, but that must wait until the greater threat is put down, unless, of course, the Rupt come to us.”
Other Elven captains murmured their accord with Silverleaf’s words, and they nodded their concurrence to the plan of attack.
None of Magekind voiced any opposition, and so Bair said, “That, then, as far as the Black Mages are concerned, is our strategy. Yet heed: I was once told by another, a plan is good only until the first arrow is loosed, after which we can only act and react to the needs at the time. In this case, I suspect the plan will be good only until the first spell is cast.” Then he turned to Aylis and said, “Now as the follow-on to dealing with the Mages, tell us of the kind and count of Foul Folk you did see.”
In the last marks before the Neddran dawn, the combined force of Elves and Mages had taken their positions on the shallow slope leading down toward the main gate of the outer wall.
And as the ruddy light of the oncoming dull red sun began to broach the dismal overcast, the seven companies drew closer downslope.
Seers went into trances, and after but moments reported that all twelve Black Mages were upon the walls and none were elsewhere within. Yet ere the Seers reported such, Bair as well as the Mages could see the glut of ‹fire› on the parapets.