Above their heads, the green globe grew and grew. It rotated. Lightning spat within it. Mages they would never reach controlled it. Brought their casting closer and closer to fruition. Behind, Apposan axes hammered at the doors. TaiGethen took down more mages. Auum could hear the screaming of the Gyalans within and the shouts of their rescuers for calm. They would get none.
Ahead of Auum the soldiers had stopped moving in and were even backing up. Every eye was on the casting. None on the elves in front of them.
‘Get that door down,’ urged Grafyrre.
He stood to Auum’s left, his eyes burning, his face ashen with the grief he fought to contain. The door went down. Gyalans, urged by Apposans, poured out behind the TaiGethen. The sky went silent. The pressure on Auum’s ears built to a painful crescendo. Something was wrong. Auum glanced back and up. The globe was wobbling. Fire lashed from its sides. Lightning speared down. Auum followed its trail to where it buried itself in the heart of a casting mage. He heard shouting. Humans. Desperate and afraid.
‘Run!’ yelled Auum. ‘Run!’
The TaiGethen broke their line and ran, forming a cordon around their Gyalan charges. The globe plunged down onto the museum. Men began running, scattering. Green light flooded the museum square. There was a sucking at the air. Wind pushed into Auum’s face. He heard the shattering of a thousand tiles and then a dull bass thump.
‘Down!’
Auum threw himself forward, hit the ground and rolled onto his back. He had to watch. Had to see.
Gyalans were still pouring out of the doors. Apposans literally throwing them into the square. Around him, most had taken his lead and fallen prone. Green light grew behind the open doors, deep within the museum. There was a crackle as of lightning buried in clouds. Next heartbeat, the museum exploded.
The walls either side of the doors bulged and disintegrated, hurling stone and timber hundreds of yards across the square. Flame blew through the open doors. Gyalan, Apposan, TaiGethen – anyone standing in its arc was gone in a blink. Bodies turned to ashes. Elf and man still standing were picked up and cast aside on the wind of the detonation. Bodies twisted and flipped as they bounced. Limbs out of control. Blood smeared the square.
Above, the roof of the museum was spat into the night sky. Lumps of masonry and wood, fragments of exhibits and what might have been bodies were thrown high and clear. The echoes of the explosion slammed around Auum’s head. He stared up. Spiralling high, shapes tumbled end over end. Some small, some big, the size of oxen and carts.
They began to fall.
‘Up!’ Auum’s shout was taken up by every TaiGethen at once. ‘Up and run. Now.’
Auum pushed himself to his feet. A timber thumped to the ground where he had been lying. It splintered. He felt shards rip into his trousers and lodge in his legs. He stumbled and steadied. Auum ran from iad to ula. Dragging them up, pushing them towards the north. Towards Takaar.
Quickly, the movement gained a momentum of its own. Auum turned. Pelyn was racing past him. He followed her direction. Men were forming up again. Running back into the square. Just a thin line.
‘TaiGethen.’ The blessed sound of Grafyrre’s voice. ‘Make a path. Apposans to the rear. Tais, we move.’
Yniss’s elite came together. Fewer now. Of Thrynn there was no sign. Nor Corsaar. But Merrat ran with Grafyrre. Marack, blood pouring from a wound in her forehead, fell in beside Auum and Pelyn. They simply ran at the growing line of men and took their revenge for the death of their Arch, their friend. Their sister.
Men were calling orders. Archers were running in from the right. Mages, those that could, were moving up behind the swordsmen. Auum feinted to swing at the man in front of him. The soldier flinched. Auum dropped and rolled between him and another. The man caught Marack’s blade in the side of his head.
Auum stood and thrashed his blade through the guard of the next in line. The enemy’s sword broke, the tip flying to lodge in his skull. He cried out and put his hands up to his head. Auum dug his sword in under the hapless human’s ribs. Behind Auum, the TaiGethen washed over the front line of men. The whole moved back a pace under the pressure of the attack, giving Auum brief room.
A flight of arrows came in from behind, landing amongst the fleeing Gyalans. There was a roar from that direction too. More men spilling into the square. Auum straight-punched the man in front of him, knocking him cold.
TaiGethen flew over his head, dropping into the midst of the growing press of men. They were still four deep ahead. Auum and Marack moved side by side. Four blades blocking and chopping. Merrat and Grafyrre were by them. Pelyn was to Auum’s left.
Another surge came from behind. Apposans. Less pretty, just as effective. Axes rose and fell. Blood sprayed into the sky. Auum took heart. He swayed inside a stab to the head and cracked the pommel of his blade into his attacker’s face. Auum followed up with a straight kick to the groin. The man gasped. Auum stepped up and butted the bridge of his nose, splitting it open. The man fell. Auum stamped down on his throat and moved past him.
Marack jumped, spun and kicked out. Her foot caught the head of her target. He flew back. The man behind tried to fend him off but succeeded only in stabbing him low in the back. Marack chopped in, left and right. Both men died. More arrows at their back. Auum could hear them skipping off the cobbles.
Auum ducked a wild swing, hearing the blade clash against Pelyn’s. He straightened fast. The soldier, surprised, swayed back. Auum stabbed into his exposed throat. Down he went. The soldier behind him was staring at Auum but wasn’t about to strike. Blood was sluicing down his face. When he fell forward, Kerryn stood behind him.
‘Clear!’ shouted Auum. ‘Push left and right. Graf. Get some through to the mages.’
The line of men broke. TaiGethen and Apposan chased them away. The square was still in uproar. What was left of the museum was collapsing in on itself. Fire scratched at the sky. Clouds were coming in again.
‘Run! Run!’
The Apposans chanted in unison. They rounded up Gyalans and pushed them towards the street and the way out towards the Grans. Terrified ula and iad came past Auum. He fell in beside them. Behind them, more and more men poured into the square to give chase. Ahead, mages stood waiting. No longer were their comrades in line before them. They had clear targets.
‘Graf! Mages!’ shouted Auum, but Grafyrre couldn’t hear him.
Auum could see him and Merrat over to the right. They took apart three men standing in a tight knot before turning to usher Gyalan and Apposan past them and away. Hundreds, thousands had been saved. The devastation at the museum had brought more onto the street, beating open their own doors and windows to join in the exodus. There was no need for questions now. No need for any elf to wonder if they should join the crowd. One look at the faces of men was all they needed. Any who stayed behind were as good as dead.
Auum powered towards the mages. They were together, seven of them. The sea of elves was about to engulf them but they stayed still, preparing. Auum broke through the line of running Gyalans and Apposans and closed on the enemy. But he would not make it in time.
As one, the mages opened their eyes and focused on their enemy.
They could not see what was behind them. A figure in the air, twisting as he came down right in their midst. Takaar. His swords blurred. Mages were hacked aside. A hand dropped to the ground, still opening and closing. A shoulder was chopped through. They tried to turn and defend but his hands were too quick and his feet too sure.
The last of them grappled with him, wrapping his arms around him and pushing him back. Takaar dropped both blades and stared at the mage. Auum slowed too, letting the rescued and rescuers flow past him. Takaar cocked his head. The mage did not know what to do next. He let go with one arm and felt for a knife, sensing a chance.