Ilkar nodded. ‘At least that.’
Denser shrugged. ‘But our main focus must be on repelling the enemy. Not running to our so far unnamed haven.’
‘And we will face them as far from our cities as we can,’ said Sol. ‘We will identify their positions and we will go to meet them.’
Hirad sighed. ‘I urge you not to. All you’ll get is bloodshed, not enough of it theirs. And you will lose so many souls to the void.’
‘You know it is something we have to do, don’t you?’ said Sol.
‘I had hoped to persuade you otherwise.’
‘We must attempt to secure our lands,’ said Denser. ‘Just to run is unthinkable, disastrous.’
‘We must fight. We will not meekly surrender Balaia to anyone.’
‘And, who knows, while you hold on to that belief, Unknown, perhaps there is a chance,’ said Darrick. ‘But we, the dead, do not see it, though we will stand by you.’
‘Why?’ asked Denser. ‘If you believe it such a lost cause.’
‘We don’t have a choice,’ said Erienne. ‘Our souls were brought back here by the strength of our bonds to you in life. We cannot be parted from you by such a distance. The pain is too great and our souls would not be able to hang on to these bodies. Think about it, my love. What you intend involves us whether we like it or not. Don’t force us to throw away what life we have.’
Ilkar pushed himself to his feet and walked back to the balcony window. The library caught his eye again and he felt a coldness enter his soul.
‘You cannot have regained the power you had before the demons came,’ he said. ‘How much of the archive did you lose?’
The regret in Denser’s eyes was answer in itself. ‘Nearly everything. During the siege Dystran managed to salvage some texts but we have lost so much that was precious. Irreplaceable.’
‘But, even so, you were more fortunate than Dordover,’ said Ilkar.
Denser nodded. ‘I can’t ever see Dordover recovering as a college of magic. The Heart is gone and there are not enough surviving mages to construct a new one. But isn’t it strange that, when all is said and done, Julatsa is the most complete college of the four?’
‘You tell me; I’ve been dead almost fifteen years.’
‘Lystern has its Heart and precious little else. Dordover has nothing but a library of lore that no one can use. Xetesk has lost two thousand years of teaching. Julatsa is almost untouched. The decision to abandon the college and run here worked in ways your fellow mages and elves could not possibly have imagined. The demons always meant to go back and consume the Heart after the battle here was done. They never made it. It makes Julatsa strong.’
‘Only potentially, Denser. I can’t imagine too many mages survived to begin the process of recruitment and training. You have numbers at least. But they won’t do you any good.’
‘So you all keep saying, and you’ll excuse me if I don’t immediately buy the opinion of people who have been dead for a good long time. We need to see this enemy for ourselves. Understand that I’m only just buying the idea that you can possibly be here at all.’
Ilkar nodded. ‘Then do it quickly. Being dead was good. Being alive again really isn’t.’
‘And that’s why Hirad has gone all emotional on me, is that it?’
‘No, Denser, it’s because he can feel something that he cannot explain.’
There was a knock at the door.
‘Come,’ said Denser.
A young messenger entered and bowed. ‘Please, my Lord Denser, Master Haldryn of the Communion Globe sends his urgent wish for your attention. Calaius has fallen silent.’
Ilkar watched the colour drain from Denser’s face.
‘I take it that’s not good, then.’
Denser shook his head.
‘And what’s a Communion Globe?’ asked the elven mage.
Denser rubbed a hand across his forehead. ‘Wait here, all of you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
They all watched Denser go, following the messenger out of the door and away down the long spiral stairway. Ilkar took a seat next to Hirad and smiled, squeezing his old friend’s healthy shoulder and regretting that he couldn’t see the barbarian in his original body. For all the awful reasons they were here at all and not floating in the timeless sanctuary of the dead dimension, there was still pleasure to be derived from being among friends. Even the different faces and bodies could not detract from the sense of well-being.
‘So what’s eating the Lord of the Mount?’ asked Hirad.
‘Not sure, really. One of his toys is broken and he wanted to show it off to us, I think.’
‘Oh, I see.’
As usual, it was plain that he didn’t see at all. Ilkar looked over at Sol. The big man was studying the edge of the table, kneading the carved knotwork with his thumbs.
‘It’s not just a toy, is it, Unknown?’
Sol shook his head. ‘It’s the first line of defence against any invasion of Balaia or Calaius. It’s the way we can talk over huge distances at any time. There are only two reasons for Calaius to fall silent. Deliberate cessation of the casting by the elves, and I dismiss that out of hand.’
‘Or . . .’
‘Or something overcame them so fast they had no chance to send a warning.’
‘Go and have your fight if you must but you need to believe us, Unknown,’ said Hirad. ‘You need to worry about evacuating west right now. There is no time for doubt.’
Chapter 10
Pain where there had been comfort.
Fear where there had been calm.
Loneliness from love.
He would have screamed but he had no voice with which to do so. It had been so long, it seemed, since he had ascribed any living sensations to how he felt or what was happening to him. The pain soared, ripping at his being. Unstoppable, rising all the time, scaling heights he could never have conceived existed.
Tearing. Like he imagined it would be should his flesh be torn from his bones while he still lived. And he could not cling on. Could not save himself from being thrown into the teeth of the gale that carried him away from his resting place.
Flesh and blood. Bones and breath.
The trappings of the living. He had forgotten them and how they felt. Why should he be reminded of them now? Dimly, he had been aware that those around him had moved or were gone. He had felt fear through the mass but had not known what it meant. Still he didn’t. Yet he was gone from where he had been content until now. But not adrift. There was something just beyond the borders of his awareness and slowly, slowly it resolved itself.
Direction.
He was travelling.
There was no reference. He could not see or feel his movement but there it was nonetheless. There was no scent to guide him, no light to show him a path. But there was something that dragged him onwards, that would not let him be lost to the chaos that surrounded him. And what coalesced from the confusion encasing him jolted through him with, he remembered, surprise.
It was need. That feeling of the heart reaching out to implore help, satisfy yearning and quench desire. To beg for attention. And to be reciprocated, meaning to love. All of this flooded through him and he thought that his speed, if he had one, increased. He had the sensation of flying headlong towards those that needed him the very most whether they were in trouble or just hoping without reason that he would return to them.
It was a feeling of the most basic kind. A necessity without which there was no life. And certainly no return to life. Because shortly before light blazed into the comforting darkness that had been his dead soul, that was what he was sure was coming.