Nightchild

He nodded. There were no words, not now.

Above them, he heard orders ratding across the decks and die sound of hurrying feet. He heard the slap of limp canvas and felt the ship turning. There was a knock on the door, urgent and insistent.

'Sorry, you two, but you've got to see this. I'll meet you on deck.' Ilkar's voice was apologetic but determined and Denser listened to his footsteps receding and the sounds of sudden tension from above before turning back to his wife.

'Well?'

'We should go,' said Erienne. 'No sense in wallowing in our self-pity at the moment.' She sat up and kissed him fervently and managed a half-smile as she drew away. 'There's plenty of time for that later. The Unknown'll be waking soon. I shouldn't miss that. There could be more work to do.' She pushed him away, swung her legs out of the narrow bed and rummaged on the floor for her clothes.

T love you, Erienne,' said Denser.

Erienne swallowed a sob. 'Remember diat you do.'

They dressed quicldy and, after a long embrace, walked up to the deck. Pushing open the forward hatch, the gusting wind felt strong in their faces. The ship was beginning to pitch sharply.

'Here we go again,' muttered Denser.

He led Erienne by the hand out into the fast fading light and looked around for Ilkar. He was there, standing by the port rail, which was lined with people. Hirad, Ren'erei, Darrick, one of the

Protectors and half the crew of the Catlaian Sun. They hurried over, Ilkar seeing them and stepping back so they could see clearly.

A light was arrowing out from sea to sky over at the Ornouth Archipelago, the first islands of which would soon be visible. It was a vast column, green-edged yellow, shot through with orange, brown and a dismal black. It disappeared up into the sky and where it touched them, the clouds spun around it, thickening and expanding.

They already covered the horizon and blotted out the sun and with every heartbeat they fled across the ocean towards Balaia. Inside them, lightning flared and smudges in a dozen places told of rain falling in torrents. Beneath them came the wind, and below the wind was driven the sea, white-capped and murderous. The swell was growing, already at ten feet. The ship still made headway but Jevin had already furled all but topsail and foresail, and soon he would be forced to take in more.

'Oh dear Gods,' said Denser. 'Look at what our daughter is doing to us all.'

Erienne's arm was around his waist and it tightened. He looked at her, saw her eyes reflecting the pain he felt and he squeezed her trembling shoulders and turned her away.

T think we should eat now, before it gets too rough,' he said to Ilkar as they passed him. The elf nodded.

'I'll sort it, don't you worry about it.'

The forward hatch slid back as they approached it and a very familiar shaven-headed figure came halfway out, spotting them and beckoning them over. He was clutching a sheet around his waist.

'Any idea where my clothes are?' he said.

'Unknown, it's good to see you,' said Erienne.

'And you, Erienne. And it'll be even better when I catch up on what the hell has been going on and have some food. I am bloody famished.'

The gale roared into the Choul in the early hours of the morning. It was some time before dawn and the night was black, the cloud unyielding and the rain unceasing. Sha-Kaan brought the Brood to wakefulness, their dulling eyes regarding him in irritation.

'We are doing nothing here but dying,' said Sha-Kaan. 'Hirad Coldheart is right. We must help them.'

'It is not our way to help but to be helped,' said Nos-Kaan. 'We are the Kaan.'

'And this is not Beshara, and here we do not rule,' said Sha. 'So we will help my Dragonene. He, at least, has stayed true and deserves our help. Without him, we would already have perished. Unfurl your wings, young Kaan, and we will fly. But beware. The hunters are everywhere.'

'Yes, Great Kaan,' said Nos and Hyn.

T will lead.'

Sha-Kaan moved along the Choul to find himself some space and stretched his wings. It was becoming a painful exercise, alleviated only by the thrill of the hunt for prey. But even that was beginning to pall. Sha-Kaan was already an old dragon when he was first marooned in Balaia. The unhelpful conditions merely brought his death closer. But there was still hope. The Al-Drechar could help. They had both the knowledge and the power. While they lived, so would he.

He opened his great mouth, sucking in the air and opening the muscles above his flame ducts, feeling the chill rush around the emptiness of the sacs. He wondered how much more confident the hunters would be if they knew the dragons were dry. Not so terrifying then, he supposed. Then again, he considered as he examined his claws and felt the tips of his huge fangs with his tongue, then again…

Sha-Kaan snaked his neck around to see his Brood pair working their tired wing muscles and stretching the drying, cracking membrane. But they were ready and would not fail him.

'Come, Kaan. We will fly high and fast. Let the Skies keep us.'

'Skies keep us,' the Kaan intoned.

Sha-Kaan walked along to the entrance, his keen eyes piercing the gloom, seeing nothing but flat dark rock, trees bent double under the gale and the teeming rain.

'Balaia,' he growled. 'Sooner left, better my scales.'

With a roar, he spread his wings and leapt into the air, beating upwards. Nos and Hyn-Kaan following. Sha-Kaan rose to the peak

which housed their Choul and circled, waiting for his Brood to join him.

There was movement below. He barked a warning and an order to climb faster. He could see metal glinting in a thick area of brush. There was a dull thud which he could pick out above the wind whistling around the peak. A long shaft rose very quickly and Hyn-Kaan squealed as it pierced his left wing, the metal tip ripping through the membrane and the shaft dragging the hole larger as it passed, continuing on into the sky before falling back to the earth.

Sha-Kaan roared and dived on the brush. The humans had already scattered to hiding places but one had not been quick enough. The Great Kaan snatched him in his jaws and bore him back into the air, the puny body writhing pitifully against his grip. Above the peak of the Choul mountain, he bent his neck round and grabbed the human in a fore-claw, bringing him close to his eye.

'Fall. Like you wished on my Kaan.'

Sha-Kaan flung the screaming figure away to his death, not bothering to watch his impact. He turned and beat his wings, driving to where Nos and Hyn circled. Hyn was pained but the wound was not critical.

'And you still want to help the humans?' pulsed Nos.

'They are not all alike,' said Sha-Kaan. 'Hyn-Kaan, return to the Choul if you cannot fly the distance we must travel.'

'When we reach the upper skies and can glide, I will match your speed. Do not ask me to stay, Great Kaan.'

'Then follow me. This is the flight to our fate.'

Roaring into the wind and thunder, he drove up into the cloud, searching for the calmer air of the heights.

Erienne woke earlier than Denser, with the wan light of dawn edging through the window. In truth she had hardly slept. The ship had plunged in all directions during the storm, which still raged outside and, since Jevin had ordered them all below shortly after dinner, she had been lying here in the dark, her husband close.

It was strange. Funny almost. On the Ocean Elm, she had become accustomed to her impending death but hated why it had to happen. Now, with her death just as certain, she felt calm and had felt close to euphoria during the night. There was a reason. The

perpetuation of the One and the life of her child. And no matter how much she would miss Lyanna and all those she loved, she knew that her death would mean something to the whole of Balaia. Perhaps bring a new dawn in the days of magic.

There had been a moment for both of them during their despair of the last couple of days, and neither she nor Denser would deny it, a moment when they considered the death of Lyanna as preferable to their own irrevocable parting. It was an option that would save Balaia and they would not have been human had they not considered it, however fleetingly. But as this day came, the thought seemed almost laughable.