Nightchild

Denser smiled. 'Sorry, never did go in for it much. I brought my pipe, though.'

'And I've missed its rank stench.' Ilkar patted him on the upper arm and looked past him. 'Hey, Unknown, it's been a while.' Ilkar tried to keep a smile on his face but seeing these two men riding through his College gates together could only mean one thing. Something bad, probably very bad, had happened.

The Unknown walked over and shook his hand warmly, his grip, as ever, crushing.

'Too long,' he said.

'So.' Ilkar returned his attention to Denser. The Xeteskian was tired despite the hour of the morning and seemed solemn. 'How's Erienne and Lyanna?'

Pain flashed in Denser's eyes and his brows pinched slightly. Instead of answering, he looked to The Unknown for help.

'That's what brings us here,' said the Big Man.

Ilkar nodded, his suspicion confirmed. 'Oh I see. Are you hungry? We could talk over breakfast.'

The refectory was a long, low building set with a series of bench tables. It was quietening with most of the mages and paid workers already on site. Ilkar indicated a corner table and while the travellers made themselves comfortable, he went to the servery and packed a long wooden tray with bacon, bread and a large jug of coffee.

'Here,' he said as he sat. 'Help yourselves. There's more if you need it.'

While they ate, Denser talked of Lyanna's progress and her nightmares, of Dordover's obstructive Quorum, and of the disappearance of both Erienne and their daughter. Finally, he passed Ilkar the letter, which the elf read in silence, frown deepening with almost every line. He passed it back after he'd read it twice and refilled all their mugs.

'If they find them first, they'll kill them,' said Denser.

'Who will?' asked Ilkar.

'The Dordovans. Don't you see?'

'That's a little extreme, don't you think? There's more to it than simple conspiracy. There's potential risk to all Balaian magic systems.'

'Don't you start,' said Denser. 'Lyanna is the future for all of us, not our death and destruction. The Dordovans are just scared. All they need is education. No one is talking about an enforced return to the One Way, for God's sake. No one alive is capable of practising it.'

'Except Lyanna.'

Denser shrugged. 'Yeah, except Lyanna. Possibly. Look, Ilkar, Vuldaroq is not interested in any multidisciplined mage being nurtured by anyone. He told me Balaia didn't want another Septern. That's why, if he can't control her, he'll kill her.'

'So you want to find them?' said Ilkar.

'No, I want to offer them up to Dordover, chained to sacrificial altars,' replied Denser.

'Just checking you hadn't completely lost your sense of humour.'

'Of course I want to find them.'

'And do what, exactly?' asked Ilkar. 'And that's a serious question.'

Denser regarded him as if he were an imbecile.

'Ilkar, they are my family. I have to protect them.'

T think we both understand that,' said The Unknown. He put down the sandwich he had made but not eaten while he'd listened, and leant forward. Ilkar had to smile; he'd lost none of his instant authority. 'But you have been depicting the might of Dordovan magic lined up against us. What do you hope to achieve?'

'A warning, if it's needed. Organisation too. Erienne and Lyanna are already well protected, I know it. But we can help. We even the odds.'

'Who?'asked Ilkar.

'The Raven.'

Ilkar took a long draw on his coffee, feeling the strong bitter taste flood down his throat. He'd known his fate the moment he'd seen The Unknown and Denser come through his gate together. Whatever The Raven could do, he had to help. Futile, possibly. Deadly, probably, if Lyanna and Erienne were in the hands of the power Denser thought they were. But whatever, he had to make sure they understood what they were up against.

'Denser, there's something you need to know.'

'Go on. I feel sure it won't be to my advantage.'

'We've been seeing random mana activity in the sky. Lightning, flaring, showers, that sort of thing. Not a lot but definitely odd. We got talking about it a few days ago. Have you heard of the Tinjata Prophecy?'

Denser shook his head.

'Didn't think so. Neither had I, though perhaps you should have done. Haven't you researched the Sundering at all?'

'Not really,' said Denser. 'Beyond conditions for producing a child with the correct potential and those are well enough documented in Xetesk, I don't think Erienne even disturbed the dust in the open vaults. Who was this Tinjata, then?'

'Well Erienne should certainly have heard of him. He was the first High Elder mage of Dordover.'

'She probably has,' said Denser. 'But she hasn't told me about him.'

'Never mind. We'll ask her when we find her. The point is that Tinjata was instrumental in the Sundering and culpable in a number of horrific actions against mages of the One, the Al-Drechar. He formulated a prophecy based on some kind of extrapolation of mana theory and dimensional connectivity – the roots are long gone – and he posted it as a warning to all who believed in the continuation of the four-College structure.'

'How do you know all this?' Denser was frowning.

'I asked around. Do you remember Therus? He helped you in the

library during the siege? Well, he survived. He's an ancient writings archivist and the time around the Sundering is an area of particular specialisation for him. And that includes the Tinjata Prophecy.'

'And?' Denser beckoned Ilkar to speak it.

'Right. Well, Therus' knowledge is incomplete because the Dor-dovans would never let him into their library but the summary is enough. "When the Innocent rides the elements, and the land lies flat and riven; the Sundering shall be undone and from the chaos shall rise the One, never again to fall." Pretty clear, don't you think?' Ilkar felt his heart beating as he spoke the words, finding it impossible to imagine Lyanna, a child he had never seen, presiding over the destruction of Balaia. The idea was frankly ludicrous.

Denser and The Unknown were quiet. The big man finished his sandwich while he thought, the Xeteskian's brows arrowed in as he digested Ilkar's words.

'And that's what Therus thinks your lightning flashes are all about, does he?' asked Denser. 'My child being this "Innocent"? One flash of lightning and the end of the world is coming?'

'Denser, you know what you hoped Lyanna would be. And perhaps she will be the first of a new race of mages, but there are wider implications,' said Ilkar.

'Well, what's certainly clear is that if the Dordovan Quorum believe the prophecy, they'll be desperate to recapture Lyanna,' said The Unknown. 'Or do something to stop her.'

'So what you're saying is that Lyanna is some form of destructive power, according to Tinjata,' said Denser.

'Or maybe the catalyst for something. We've seen lightning in a cloudless sky already and that is a clear elemental anomaly. And you know as well as I do the stories that have been going round. Tidal waves, hurricanes, thunderstorms lasting for days… hardly one bolt of lightning, Denser. Therus says they're all mentioned in the prophecy.

'And who are these people you think Erienne has gone to? What if they don't want to train Lyanna but to use her as a focus? We have to consider the possibility.'

'But don't forget on the other hand that, whatever the evidence, Tinjata would have had a vested interest in painting his findings as black as he could,' said Denser.

.¦…•'¦

Ilkar nodded. 'Also true. Look, I'm not for one moment saying that we should leave Lyanna to the Dordovans, or anyone for that matter, besides you and Erienne.'

'What are you saying then?' asked Denser.

'That we should be aware of the wider picture while we search. Putting aside whether the prophecy is true or not, or even relevant to this debate, Dordover will act on the premise that it might be; and their actions, if not stemmed, will divide the Colleges, and none of us want that. It doesn't take a genius to see Dordover and Lystern seeing a threat to their independence and identity, and Xetesk looking to broker power and ultimately force a reunion as the dominant party. It all hinges on who controls Lyanna. As for Julatsa, well-' he gave Denser a rueful smile '-we're nowhere, but no less determined to see our magic and beliefs survive.'