So she had come to see the sprites. To play with them again. But they weren't dancing on the trees like she remembered. And the trees weren't all standing straight like she remembered. Some of them were broken and all the sprites were lying on the ground, most of them bunched in the corners of the orchard. Just like leaves in autumn.
Lyanna walked over to a corner and crouched down, weaving her hand through the drift of leaves that had been sprites. There was no life there. They were all dead.
She stood, sobbing quietly. All her friends were gone except the old ladies and she didn't think they liked her. She ran back towards the door. It had no glass in it any more. She wondered what had happened. Perhaps one of the elves would tell her. Maybe Ren was there even if Mummy wasn't.
'Ren!' she called, walking back into the house. It was all wet underfoot. 'Ephy!' Her voice echoed in the corridor. She started to cry.
She didn't understand. When she had gone to the dark place, everything had been fine and the sun had been shining. Now she had come back, it was all different. It was cold and all the pictures had fallen down and everything was wet and the house was quiet.
'Myraaaa!' she wailed.
There was no sound. The sky was all black. All except the light she sent into the air to guide Mummy home. That was something the wind in her mind had taught her. But she didn't know why all the
cloud tried to make the light go dim. So she'd tried to send the cloud away, only there was so much of it.
'Myra!' she shouted.
No one could hear her. That wasn't right. The wind spoke to her. She could make them wake up and make them come to listen to her so she could understand why it was so cold and wet.
Lyanna turned and wandered back towards her room.
The rumbling in the earth had already started. That would make them wake up.
Hirad and Ilkar were in their favourite place in the bow of the ship again, but this time Ilkar wasn't vomiting over the side and Hirad didn't have to keep him upright. It was mid-morning, the storm had abated slightly, the swell had lessened and though Jevin had deployed enough sail since dawn to drive them on, they would not outrun the Dordovan fleet. The seven ships flying the orange College colours were coming up on the starboard bow, close enough now to make out the shapes of people moving about on deck. They were all heading for the same channel into the archipelago but while the Ocean Elm would make the Ornouth Archipelago ahead of them, the Caiman Sun would not.
The Dordovans had to be halted and the Kaan were overdue. Ilkar and Hirad were scanning the sky. Looking for some sign in the dark cloud, Hirad spoke to alleviate the tension he felt.
'They were at it again all morning,' he said.
'You're just jealous.'
'No,' said Hirad defensively. T just wonder where they get their energy from.'
'Maybe from the fact that they haven't got much more time,' said Ilkar.
T know that, but even so-'
'Hirad, can we talk about something else? Like where your dragons are or something?' Ilkar turned his head slightly to narrow his eyes at Hirad. 'I thought perhaps our rather difficult circumstances might be of more import to you than your friends' sexual energy.'
'They'll be here, don't worry about it,' said Hirad.
'Are you sure they can find us in all this?' Ilkar gestured at the dense rain-bearing cloud.
'They don't need to see, they can find us by following the signature of my mind,' said Hirad, mildly irritated. 'You know that.'
'I pity anyone following your mind at the moment,' muttered Ilkar.'Full of filth.'
Thunder rumbled overhead. Inside the roiling mass, lightning flashed incessantly. Thunder sounded again and suddenly the clouds disgorged a flood of rain. It drummed on the deck, rattled into the sails and drove into their faces.
Hirad turned his face away for a modicum of shelter.
'Gods falling! This is unbelievable,' he said.
He and Ilkar hurried back along the foredeck, the rain lashing down heavier and heavier. They raced across the main deck, the water pouring down their necks soaking their clothes, heading for the aft hatch and the galley, suddenly in need of a hot drink and the warmth of a cook stove.
At the hatch they met Darrick, who was staring intently into the sky, seemingly oblivious to the downpour. He smiled at them.
'Refreshing, isn't it?
'Bloody soldiers,' said Hirad. 'Always got to prove how tough they are.'
'Not really,' said Darrick. 'I was just wondering what was causing this, all of a sudden.'
'Well, while you're wondering, would you mind stepping aside?' Ilkar waved him left.
Darrick obliged. T thought it must be something in the cloud triggering the lightning. Probably them.'
He pointed along the length of the ship. Hirad turned, his head already filling with thoughts of welcome. The Kaan had broken through the cloud and were powering away towards the Dordovan fleet.
I take it, this is the group of ships you want us to Aeal with, pulsed Sha-Kaan.
Tes, Great Kaan. The orange colours. Seven of them. Be careful of magic.
Be careful of wreckage. More mirth. Sha-Kaan was mellowing in
his old age, not that that would be any comfort to the Dordovans. Hirad ran back to the bow, the rain forgotten, and yelled the Kaan on.
Chapter 33
The Kaan flew from the clouds in a chevron, Sha-Kaan at its head, Nos and Hyn on the flanks. They glided fast over the fleet, seeing the humans below panicked and rushing for the sails, for the places below decks or for any cover they could find. Sha could sense the mages below, there were many of them. Hirad Coldheart was right, they presented serious danger.
Passing the lead vessel, they gained height and banked, turning to attack.
Break their formation. Take the masts if you can. Spells will come, pulsed Sha-Kaan.
They dived, roaring into the rain-sodden air, each targeting a ship, seeing the fleet begin to break up as wheels were swung, rudders bit into the ocean and the vessels turned and scattered. Much too slow.
Sha-Kaan came in low and across the bow of his target, wings beating back to slow him, great talons biting into the deck as he landed, his weight causing the ship to bounce and slew. Water poured over the bows, a torrent streaming for the holds, weighing it down.
His neck lashed forwards and his jaws bit at the mast in front of him, the wood splintering. Another bite and it fell, bringing down sail and line. He pushed away from the ship, seeing a group of men running along the deck towards him. Mages. They sprawled as the aft of the ship smacked back into the water. With a lazy beat of his wings, he angled towards them, lashing out with his jaws, dragging his hind claws along the deck and sweeping with his tail, not caring with what he connected.
Behind him, the raised foredeck was shattered and men lay where they had been hit, or crawled away, limbs broken. Sha-Kaan swept
back up into the sky, high above the range of any spell, and looked down at what he had done. One mast was down, the humans were terrified and the dragging sail hindered their progress. It was not enough.
He came in again, higher this time, coming across the ship broadside. Feeling the first edges of pain from individual spells as he closed, he braked sharply, brought his hind claws around and grabbed the main mast, feeling the wood compress under his talons. Unable to get a grip to wrench the mast clear, he used his momentum, beat his wings hard, and slowly, slowly, the ship began to tip.
More spells crashed into his back, intense heat and harsh cold eating into his drying scales. He barked in pain, shifted his weight and the mast snapped beneath his enormous bulk. He tumbled towards the sea, letting go the part of the mast he held in his claws and diving straight into the water to quell the magical fires, depriving them of the air they needed before surfacing and racing again for the heights. He was surprised by the severity of the damage he had suffered and pulsed new warnings to the Brood. He looked back as he climbed, feeling the weakening in his scales where the spells had struck. The mast had broken through the deck and ripped its way down the hull to below the water line. The ship was sinking. Time for a fresh target.