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‘Find a way,’ said Ystormun. ‘But if you fail, so be it. I will be the only one of us to survive, and I will remain strong here. I can live with that but can you die knowing it? This Communion is at an end.’

Ystormun broke the link before the battering could recommence. It was some hours before he began to worry that it had been so simple to do.

Auum led the TaiGethen into Katura as the afternoon began to wane. They spoke to no one, acknowledged no one and ran into the marketplace at Katura’s heart before they stopped, a growing crowd following them. It had been over fifty years since any of their calling had entered the city.

The market day had already ended. Such stalls as there were, were either covered or dragged to the side of the circle. Auum took in the malevolent feel of the city. Two- and three-storey buildings and temples surrounded them. Cobbled roads led off in six directions. Domes, spires and steep-angled roofs dominated the skyline.

The TaiGethen had gathered on the Yniss stone in the marketplace, the first laid in the new city and bordered by benches set among flower borders and blessed with messages from the priests of each god. But the flowers were dead and had not been replaced. The messages were covered with graffiti and had been defaced by weapons. The stone itself had been carved with the symbol of Tual.

Even the flagpole, which had once proudly displayed the symbols of every thread, was criss-crossed with insult and threat, promise and mindless muttering. It was bare of any flags and probably had been for decades.

During their run to the centre, Auum’s heart had fallen. His worst imaginings about Katura had been exceeded. The place stank. Rubbish and faeces clogged alleys and gutters. Many houses and businesses had been boarded up, vandalised or reduced to skeletons, their timbers stolen for other purposes.

Addicts had stared at them from the open windows and doors of run-down dwellings as well as the streets, where they lay, all their possessions lost or bartered away. Elves of every thread walked with their heads down or glanced at them with haunted expressions before their curiosity overcame suspicion.

Boltha and Methian had painted too rosy a picture for him. There was no harmony here; Katura was as good as dead.

Word of the TaiGethen’s arrival had fled through the streets and people were crowding in to see the spectacle. They filled all the spaces and pressed forward, eager to get a view of the elite warrior caste they had entrusted to keep them safe from man and to return them to their homes.

But a hundred and fifty years of waiting had lessened the awe in which the TaiGethen were held, and the first insult was followed by a barrage of others, the assembly emboldened by numbers and giving vent to their frustration.

‘Faleen, take your Tai and get to the hall of the Al-Arynaar. I want Pelyn. Illast, take your Tai and go with her. This place is dangerous. Take no chances. Trust no one. The rest of you, form a perimeter around the flagpole. This is an opportunity too good to pass up.’

Auum climbed the flagpole, his agility hushing the crowd. He used the silence to begin speaking.

‘People of Katura. My brothers and sisters. Hear me. I am Auum, Arch of the TaiGethen, and I need your help.’

The silence deepened. From his vantage point, Auum saw Faleen lead the way to the second ring, where the Al-Arynaar had built their hall, and he could see more elves hurrying to join the throng around him. He wondered who among them were the pure, and who were the fallen. They would announce themselves soon enough.

‘You failed us!’ shouted a voice.

Others took up the call. Auum waited for their anger to subside.

‘If that is what you believe, then I shall not seek to persuade you otherwise. Nevertheless the TaiGethen have fought every day to free our country. Our blood has kept the humans at bay to give you the chance to rebuild. It seems to me you have spurned that chance. The reek of edulis is stronger than that of timber here. Perhaps we were wrong to fight on. Perhaps the elven race is not worth saving.

‘But I have good news for you. For all those who believe the TaiGethen have failed them, I bring you the chance to show us how you could have done it better.’

Auum, his feet clamped around the flagpole and with one hand resting atop it, let his body swing around in a lazy circle. Every eye was on him, every ear waiting to hear what came next. A few insults rang out but were shushed.

‘Two human armies are heading here. The first will arrive in ten days’ time. Combined they field over four thousand soldiers and mages. Plenty enough they think to destroy this city and its entire people. Without the sixty TaiGethen, now reduced by a third, they would have arrived with almost two thousand more.’

Auum paused while the shock sank in. Katura should have been an eternal sanctuary. Those below Auum were the few who still worked for its good, or at least who had not succumbed to its drug-ridden underbelly. They had withstood a great deal while the city fell around them and now they faced losing everything.

‘Ten days is ample time in which to run and hide in the rainforest. If that is your desire then go, because I do not want cowards standing by me when the enemy pounds on the gates.

‘I am here to tell you to stand. To run would signal the end of elves. We would scatter ourselves through the forest to be picked off at their leisure. That is not how my story shall be written.

‘I am here to tell you to stand and fight. To fortify this city, to arm yourselves and to join me in the battle that will decide the fate of elves across our land. How much do you want to return to the lives you led before the humans came? How much do you want to see the elves prosper once more without the malign hand of man controlling us?

‘How much do you want to live?’

Auum watched while a furious babble broke out. Arguments rang back and forth, scuffles erupted. Some people pushed their way out of the crowd and hurried away to their houses, presumably to pack and run.

Auum waited, wondering if there would be any silence long enough for him to speak, to ask for what he wanted. Question upon question was being hurled at him. How had the humans found them? Did the TaiGethen lead them here? How could they defeat so great an army? Will the Apposans return? Is this why Takaar is here?

Auum started at the sound of that name. He scanned the crowd, searching for the one who had said it. In the sea of a thousand faces, it was an impossible task. He raised a hand, hoping for some quiet. He was granted enough for his purposes.

‘We will answer all your questions; I know you have many. But please, time is short and every moment of every day counts. All of you who desire to live, I need you. I need metal workers, architects, weapon-smiths, fletchers. I need anyone who has training with a blade or bow. I need builders and I need your priests. All of you, come to the hall of the Al-Arynaar at sundown.

‘Lastly, who spoke of Takaar?’ A nervous-looking Gyalan iad near the front raised her hand. ‘I would speak with you. Ulysan, see her inside the perimeter. The rest of you, please, stay in Katura to fight. We can win. No TaiGethen will leave here until the last elf has fallen. We believe. So must you. Go and pray for strength, and then bring me every skill and weapon you can.’

Auum shinned down the flagpole. The crowd moved forward on all sides, questions raining down on him. The TaiGethen shouted for them to disperse, reminding them all that there would be time enough at sundown. The iad was ushered into the ring and Auum sat with her on a bench while the crowd’s bluster began to break up and they slowly started to disperse. Some, though, stayed firmly put, determined to see everything that unfolded.

‘Thank you for speaking to me. I am Auum.’

The iad smiled. She was middle-aged. Lines of worry creased her forehead and grey flecked her hair. Her clothes were drab but clean and her face was proud.