‘Quickly. Tell me. What is the trigger radius of a ward in this grid? Are we safe on the rooftops?’
‘Until someone triggers a cell of wards that brings the building down in a ball of flame around your feet,’ said Brynar. ‘I can’t overestimate the trouble we are all in.’
‘Then I am glad you are sharing that trouble with us.’ Auum stared at Brynar, looking for malice and trickery. The mage could not hold his gaze for long. ‘Do not think to walk us to our deaths. I will know your thoughts.’
‘If it’s any consolation, I think the Mount has got this all wrong. We should be heading west.’
‘Then you should have made your voice heard a little more clearly, shouldn’t you?’ said Gresse.
‘Why do you think I was dispatched to check on the ward grid, my Lord Gresse?’
‘It matters little to me,’ said Auum. ‘I do not trust you. My Tai do not trust you and nor do the ClawBound. I would have you understand that.’
Brynar nodded. ‘Not that we really need to head west. Septern told me he knew all about the Wesman ritual. He just doesn’t believe it’ll work.’
Auum pulled up short. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. He likes a drink and he likes to talk. Put the two together and all sorts comes out. Have I said something wrong?’
‘Does Densyr know about this?’ asked Auum.
‘Not as far as I’m aware. Septern told Sharyr about it and Sharyr told me. I have told no one until now.’
‘That changes everything.’ Auum waved his Tai to him. ‘Miirt. Contact the ClawBound. Ghaal. Run with Thraun. We need his wolves alive. I want a route to the college. Quickly. I’ll see you on top.’
‘You can get to the rooftops through most of the houses on this square. I’ll show you if you like,’ said Brynar.
‘Go,’ said Auum. ‘Tai, we move.’
Miirt grabbed his arm. ‘Look.’
Up on the rooftops immediately to their left, the ClawBound elf was standing and staring away to the east and high up into the sky. While Auum watched, the elf’s panther joined him and he laid a hand atop its head. The physical contact worried Auum more than anything he had seen this night that was bleeding away to a pale dawn in the eastern sky. The gesture was only ever for mutual comfort in the face of fear. And the ClawBound feared almost nothing.
The throbbing sound intensified, grew louder. The wolves were beyond control now, running this way and that, desperate for Thraun to move. Down on the ground Blackthorne was feeding Gresse some form of drug against his pain. Two of the larger men stood ready. The old baron was to be chaired away. Diera held young Hirad close. Auum came to her side.
Up in the eastern sky, the clouds were heavy and grey. It was the same grim picture all the way to the sunrise horizon. Auum fancied he could see movement within. Something that showed itself where the cloud was a little thinner. Whatever it was, the noise it emitted was rattling the teeth in Auum’s jaws and sending low vibrations through his body.
A silver shape descended through the clouds. Gently, serenely. It was bulbous, like a worn waterskin, stretched and bumpy, destined to leak. And huge. The size of a ship. Auum stared up at it. What else could any of them do? Below it, lights shone from what looked like windows and other lights played out over the city still swaddled in the last throes of night.
‘Vydosphere,’ he breathed.
‘What?’ Diera next to him could barely hear him for the growing drone.
‘Garonin.’ Auum’s heart pounded in his chest. ‘We have to get to the college before it does or we are all lost.’
Diera shook her head. ‘What about Sol and Jonas?’
‘We will rescue them,’ he said, though he had no idea how that might now be achieved.
A beam of intense light stabbed down from the vydosphere. Somewhere near the east gates there was a detonation followed quickly by a dozen others. Orange, blue and yellow fire flared into the night sky. There was a rumble and the ground shifted beneath their feet. The sound of falling buildings echoed across the city to them. Brynar gasped.
‘The wards,’ he said. ‘They’re triggering the wards.’
Blackthorne swore under his breath.
‘Run,’ said Auum and he raised his voice. ‘Run now.’
Chapter 25
Densyr ran to his east-facing balcony, Dystran and Septern to either side of him. Flame was leaping into the dawn sky, licking at the thick cloud cover above. He could see lights in the sky and blinked before realising that the dark shape he thought he had seen disappearing up into the clouds was a mere trick of the half-light.
‘Where is that?’ he asked.
‘It is the single active cell right by the east gates. Within the boundaries of the city,’ said Septern. ‘So far the gates themselves are untouched.’
‘How can you tell from here?’
‘Because the colour of the main ward spell is a deep, vibrant green over the gates. I’ve colour-coded most cells to give us more accurate information.’
‘But if the gate hasn’t gone down, then surely the Garonin are not inside,’ said Dystran.
‘Which means that some stray idiot has probably blundered into them,’ said Densyr, feeling a clash of emotions.
‘I told you it was a risky strategy,’ said Septern. ‘Now those wards are gone and only half the cell is left. It weakens us there. What damage could a few elves do anyway?’
‘More than you would ever believe,’ said Dystran.
Densyr raised his eyebrows.
‘What now?’ asked Septern.
‘It’s dawn, near as dammit,’ said Densyr. ‘I want mages in the sky to the east. Keep them high and reporting back on a regular basis. Are all our testers accounted for?’
Dystran shook his head. ‘Three are still out there. Including Brynar.’
Densyr clacked his tongue. ‘How long do we dare wait before we activate the whole grid? They’ll be coming, you know. I can feel it.’
‘Can you hear something?’ asked Septern. The dead mage put a hand to his chest and breathed in a shuddering lungful. ‘I don’t feel quite right.’
‘Sit down, take some water,’ said Densyr. ‘And whatever you do, don’t die again before you’ve activated the grid.’
‘It’s like a weight pressing hard on my soul,’ said Septern, gripping the rail of the balcony and blowing hard. ‘Can you not feel it?’
Densyr shook his head. ‘But I can hear something. It’s faint. A droning noise, like those appalling death dirges people took to singing after the demons left.’
‘It’s like a Wesman chant,’ agreed Dystran. ‘But it’s everywhere.’
‘The wind is howling,’ said Septern. ‘Something comes.’
Densyr caught him before he fell. He and Dystran helped Septern to a chair and sat him in it. The ancient genius was still breathing, his eyelids fluttering.
‘Can you activate the grid?’ asked Dystran.
‘In theory,’ said Densyr.
‘Good. Then let us make Septern comfortable and get busy. We could do with seeing more of the dead. I wonder if it is affecting them all.’
The flat tone of a thousand horns sounded. Crystal disintegrated and windows blew in, showering glass in every direction. Densyr ducked his head and put up his hands, feeling shards rip across his skin.
‘Dear Gods drowning, what was that?’ he spat.
Densyr ran for the balcony again. He could hear people screaming and shouting all across the college. He stared up into the sky to the east and saw all his plans for the folly they surely were.
Auum whispered up the stairs behind Brynar. Diera followed him, carrying young Hirad. The young mage had a good turn of pace but he was noisy. Fortunately, they had no need of secrecy. Four flights and Brynar pushed open a door to the roof of the house. It was like another world. Half a dozen chairs and a table sat on a manicured lawn. They were surrounded by all manner of decorative pots in which a host of brightly coloured flowers demanded attention. The sweet scents were beautiful.