Seven reaver bodies lay on the ground around the two TaiGethen. The others gathered and dived straight down. The elves waited. Without a word, they dived left and right in concert, cartwheeling back onto their feet and running back into the space they'd vacated. The reavers had landed hard and were in some disarray. The TaiGethen ploughed into them. Evunn took the lead, his punches designed to cripple temporarily. His knife sheered wing membrane, his fists and fingers crushed throat and thumped into chest, nose and temple, his feet denied them balance.
Behind him came Auum, sliding into their prone forms, knives in both hands driving home. His body was a shadow across the courtyard. And where he went, demons died. Fifteen reavers were downed and strike-strain littered the ground before the karron attacked too.
Auum and Evunn stood to face them, bowed fractionally and walked calmly back towards the tower complex. The two elves strode past Dystran without saying a word. Their bodies were covered in small cuts. Evunn had a long gash down one arm and Auum's left leg was dripping blood.
Dystran ordered the doors closed. Heavily invested with protection, they would stand massive bombardment by the karron should the need arise, and Dystran had no doubt that it would.
He watched the elves return to the catacombs.
'Extraordinary,' he said.
'But even they knew when to stop,' said Vuldaroq. 'A handful of demons are dead and tens of thousands still fly.'
'If only we had a few hundred more like them, eh?'
'Shame that you killed so many of them with the Elfsorrow, isn't it?'
Dystran glanced sharply at Vuldaroq but there was no blame in his expression, merely statement.
'And all for nothing,' he said, feeling suddenly weary. 'Would that I could have that time over.'
Chapter 38
The karron attacked again, backed by reavers on the ground, underneath Pheone's ForceCone. They swamped the space inside the playhouse, driving hard into The Raven and taking on the Al-Arynaar flanking forces. Erienne cast again, rendering the enemy vulnerable. But without offensive spell back-up, barring Denser and Sharyr, the demons slowly made ground.
'Firm up left,' barked The Unknown.
Rebraal took a glance. The Al-Arynaar had faltered. They were distracted by the rubble and broken benches around them and the slope of the auditorium. Reavers, floating a couple of feet from the ground, were hitting them hard.
'Gheneer,' he called. 'Bring up defence.'
But he knew there was very little of that. He struck out at a karron's hammer limb. The spikes of his mace dragged gouges in its flesh. It reared and fell back. Ark followed up and drove his sword deep into its gut. In the heartbeat's space, Rebraal assessed their situation. It was becoming ever more forlorn. The cursyrd were pressing on every casting, keeping the pressure up on the Force-Cone mages, not letting them have a moment's respite. In five areas around the playhouse and all across the roof, reavers and karron launched themselves at the constructs. And every time they did, more plaster and loose stone was dislodged and a degree of stamina leeched from the caster. It was only a matter of time.
In front of him, more cursyrd poured through the gap which they widened at every stroke. Overhead, the timbers supporting the roof shifted, seeking new solidity they'd never find. The walls of the building were seriously compromised. Without the ForceCones overhead, Rebraal wasn't sure the roof would hold.
They had been forced a few paces back across the floor towards
the stage. Rebraal felt tired. His right arm ached up at the shoulder where the collar-bone was cracked and every breath sent a skewer of pain through his chest. Sweat dripped down his face and he had the first inklings of a shake in his left arm. The mace felt too heavy.
Pheone swept her ForceCone above their heads once more. Strike-strain were dispersed to all points, squeaking frustration. Rebraal blocked a spike arm and reversed his mace across the neck of a reaver following up. The cursyrd reared into the air and was pinned against the wall by the Cone. Ark battered the skull of a karron, sending the creature back into the lines behind. The Unknown jabbed his mace into the eyes of another and he could hear Hirad's shouts clear across the floor. The barbarian demanded more effort. He demanded strength and unbroken will in Darrick's name. All those around him gave it without question.
Taking Ark's lead, Rebraal drove forwards. He ducked a flailing limb and struck left to right. His mace caught the karron on the side of the head, sending it sprawling across the line. The disruption was used instandy. The Unknown moved up and split his next enemy groin to chest. Hirad swivelled and kicked out high, taking his on the chin. Planting his foot he smashed his mace in under its arm, killing the creature instandy.
'Pushing!' he shouted.
Reavers flew low into the line, blocking any move of the allied forces. Rebraal saw a claw rip out and scratch three lines down Ark's face. Strike-strain followed in, buzzing in their faces, distracting their focus. One bit Rebraal high on the right arm. He jerked with die sudden pain, ice flowing into his cracked collar-bone. He moved to snatch it away. A reaver saw its chance and lashed in its tail and a claw simultaneously. Rebraal tripped and went down hard on his right side, his mace just about blocking the claw.
He roared in agony and for a moment thought he was going to pass out. He heard The Unknown shout an order and saw the big man's mace flash across his eyeline and bury itself in the reaver's side. Rebraal pushed himself back and away. Gheneer hurdled him to take his place in the line, sword in hand for now.
He dragged himself to his feet.
'Still standing, Rebraal?' called Hirad.
'Still standing,' he confirmed.
Erienne was at his side. 'You should leave the line. Let me dull this for you.'
'No time,' said Rebraal.
'Down,' ordered Denser.
IceWind again, forcing the cursyrd back, killing them in their dozens. How much stamina he had left was open to debate but it would be plenty. He was the most efficient mage Rebraal had ever seen. Sharyr, though, looked tired. Inexorably, the battle was turning the cursyrd's way.
Rebraal moved back to the front. Gheneer noted him, savaged a cut through reaver wing membrane and ducked backwards. Rebraal moved into the fight once more. His next strike killed the reaver Gheneer had crippled.
'Press!' The Unknown sounded off. 'Erienne, another casting if you can. We have new blood coming in.'
'On its way.'
To the left, a massive section of wall disintegrated inwards. Al-Arynaar were trapped under rubble, others knocked from their feet. Karron poured in through the new gap, reavers at their backs. Rebraal heard Gheneer shout orders. The Unknown joined him.
'Alter the angle of defence, Raven. Let's give them some breathing space.'
The pain in Rebraal's chest was intensifying. His right arm was completely useless now and he held it hard across his chest, trying to account for the lack of balance it created. The Unknown ordered the move and right to left. The Raven angled towards the new attack. The right-hand flank of the Al-Arynaar followed suit, keeping up the pressure, denying the cursyrd freedom to press home on the left.
But the battle front was too wide to hold for too long. Rebraal wielded his mace in front of his face while he thought hard about how they could turn the tide. Above the noise of the cursyrd that reverberated around the playhouse, and the sounds of orders and struggle, Rebraal could hear something else. Like approaching thunder carried on the wind. He fancied he could feel it through his feet too but dismissed the thought.