‘Oh, you misunderstand,’ said Sol. ‘It was always the way we did things. The Raven’s way was trust even in the face of ridicule. Nothing has changed bar the fact that there is no chance I will survive versus a very slim chance.’
‘But isn’t that it? We always believed that somehow we would escape and survive.’
‘I’m not sure that’s true either,’ said Sol. ‘I had no thought that we would survive the demons. I was certain we’d be trapped there, weren’t you?’
‘But there was always the tiniest chance,’ said Denser.
‘All right, you’ve made your point. Now I want to speak. It is me after all who is being asked to die in this rather inglorious manner.’
‘Could be Denser,’ said Ilkar, his eyes twinkling. ‘Any man of free will can make the sacrifice.’
Denser scoffed. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Neither did I,’ said Hirad.
‘The thing is, Denser,’ said Sol, beginning loudly before letting his voice drop a little. ‘The thing is, that there was never really any hope of surviving this one, was there? And so any chance to save Balaia’s living and dead must be taken. However small and however far-fetched it may appear.
‘When we were at our best, it was in pretending that the only option open was in any case the best one and that others would present themselves if needed. But we never had choice, not really. There was never the option to stand aside and let someone else do it because there was no one else. And it is the same now.
‘I am king, you are right. And as king I am responsible for all the people of Balaia. Right now they are being slaughtered, and I don’t see that we can defend against this enemy. That means we have to go elsewhere to live. It’s something you have to learn, Denser. Sometimes you cannot win. And you have to choose the next best option. In this case, survival.’
Denser slapped his hands on the table. ‘But you won’t survive, Sol. Win or lose, you’ll already be dead.’
‘But if by my death others live, that is enough. If I can save my wife and sons by this action I will do it in a heartbeat, don’t you see that? Wouldn’t you do the same?’
Denser’s shoulders sagged. ‘Well, yes. But I’d have to believe. Do you believe?’
‘When The Raven assure me that something must be done, I believe them. When that assertion is backed up by Auum, I believe them even more. But when I’ve been to the place where we must go, where we can fight the Garonin if we must, there is no room for doubt in my heart.’
‘Yes. You’ve been there. And come back. Alive. Why not again?’
‘Because the Garonin are not going to take me there again.’ Sol finally sat down again. ‘Denser, if I face the Garonin here again, I will die. If I am to fight them and help my people live, I need to take the chance to even the odds.
‘It just makes perfect sense. In Ulandeneth you can do anything you believe you can, I’m certain of it. And who else to travel with but those in whom I believe the most. The Raven. I wish you’d come but I understand if you feel you can’t. Decision’s made, my dear friend and Lord of the Mount. I will do this thing and we will prevail.
‘Denser. Denser, look at me. Thank you. I respect your objections. Gods drowning, I love you for your caution and your pragmatism. But the time for both has passed. And I need you to support us in what we are about to do. You may be Lord of the Mount now but you are still Raven. In spirit it may be but we need you with us. What say you?’
Denser studied his wine goblet and sucked his bottom lip. When he looked up, he was shaking his head.
‘I cannot,’ he said. ‘I cannot because you are my friend and I think you’re making a colossal error. And because you are king and first warrior, and your people need you to stand with them, not disappear off to converse with Wesman Shamen. And because your head is turned by the thought of fighting with The Raven one more time. Only it won’t be how you remember. How does a soul fight, do you think? I’m sorry, Sol, but I can do nothing but repeat my strong objections. I can’t let you do this.’
‘Can’t?’ said Hirad. ‘Exactly how are you going to stop him?’
Denser said nothing. He sipped at his wine and stared out of the window.
The Raven quartet descended the long spiral stairway in silence. They found nothing to say as they walked across the floor of the tower complex and out into the warm of the morning sun.
‘Fancy a walk, anyone?’ asked Ilkar.
‘Not if it’s like the last one we took,’ said Hirad. ‘How is dear Selik, by the way?’
‘Raging in his cell. We’re wondering whether to put him out of his misery and let another soul take the body.’
‘Pointless now, I should think,’ said Ilkar. ‘No one else is going to make it here now. The void will have taken them all. We just can’t hang on to anything without a body and the dead dimension is utterly destroyed. We can feel it. Let him rot.’
‘I’ll put your opinion to the Circle Seven,’ said Sol. ‘Look, I really need to go and talk to my wife and children. Stop by later, why don’t you? Pick up the pieces of my teeth perhaps.’
‘She’ll understand, Unknown,’ said Hirad.
‘Don’t be stupid, Hirad. She will neither understand nor accept it. And neither should she.’ Sol tried a smile but it didn’t come off. ‘See you later. Don’t drift too far; I know how much it hurts.’
Ilkar, Sirendor and Hirad watched him go before a shrug from the latter and a point towards the eastern quarter of the city sent them on their way. Just beyond the apron outside the gates of the college Ilkar saw, through the passing hubbub of a nervous day on The Thread, three figures detach themselves from the shadows ahead. He touched Hirad’s arm.
‘Seen them,’ said Hirad.
The three old friends carried on walking across the stone of the apron and made their way across The Thread itself. The figures were waiting for them, watching. There was no point avoiding them. And no need. Hirad took his hand from his sword hilt.
‘I thought you’d gone for a lie-down,’ he said.
‘There are more pressing matters,’ said Auum. Ghaal and Miirt stood close behind him. ‘This city is on the verge of tearing itself apart.’
Ilkar felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Not a pleasant experience in this body. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Come.’
Auum didn’t wait to see if they were with him. He spun on his heel and trotted away into a wealthy residential area of Xetesk. Much of it was empty of its usual occupants. All senior mages and administrators had been closeted in the college for many days now. It gave the area an eerie feel.
An angry shout rang out close by. Abruptly, Auum and his Tai broke into a run, leaving the Raven trio trailing in their wake. Ilkar recognised the tenor of the shouting. Violence hung in the air. Breaking out into a square bordered by tall houses and centred by a fenced garden, Ilkar saw a handful of figures in pursuit of something or someone with Auum’s Tai hard on their heels, eating up the distance between them.
Ilkar, running a few paces behind Hirad, couldn’t quite see the head of the chase through the trees and hedges bordering the garden. He heard a scream and the sounds of combat. He upped his pace. Ahead of him, Hirad and Sirendor drew their swords. Ilkar began to prepare a HardShield, or whatever it was Denser called it these days.
A mob of Xeteskians was attacking at least one poor unfortunate. Ilkar was in time to see Auum fly into the aggressors two-footed and at head height. One of them took the force full on the side of his skull. Auum dropped in amongst them. Ghaal and Miirt splitting left and right behind him.
The TaiGethen’s leader blurred. He flat-palmed a second in the chest, sending him sprawling. A third had his legs taken from under him, and before a fourth could react, Auum had bounced back to his feet and round-housed his target in the temple. He finished his move standing astride the single victim, both short swords drawn and ready.