He was too small to see Auum leap and dive over the last rank of guardsmen, landing behind them and striking out at two before any had the chance to turn. The gap he made was enough for Brynar, who darted inside. Moments later, a deep blue Ilkar’s Defence thrust out, beating back any defenders from the left.
Miirt and Auum faced right. In front of them, swords had been drawn by six guards. Auum took a single pace forward, dropped to his hands and spun round, legs whipping out and in. Three men fell. Miirt moved forward.
‘Time to run,’ she said.
And so they did.
‘Clear inside!’ called Brynar.
Sol nodded to Jonas to go in. Auum and Miirt shadowed him and his brother. Sol limped in with Diera, young Hirad and Jonas, and last came Thraun and the wolves. Brynar shifted the Defence spell, placing it in front of the doors.
‘Well-timed, Auum,’ said Sol. ‘Lucky you got here.’
‘We were waiting for you. Luck was not involved. Yniss keeps all of us for sterner tests.’
Sol took a quick look round. The ClawBound pair had pinned eight mages against a wall. The panther was padding up and down in front of them, the elf studying their every twitch, looking for a reason to attack. From within the complex Sol could hear running feet and the clash of metal.
‘Best you go,’ said Brynar. ‘I’ll hold the passage up to Densyr’s tower as long as I can.’
Sol unhitched himself from Diera and Sirendor and limped over to the mage.
‘You have done greater service than you know, Brynar. Your masters should be proud but they are blind instead. The Garonin will be back. Get out of here. Head west with your people. If what we’re attempting works, we’ll find you. Don’t let them get you. The world, whichever world it is, will need mages like you.’
‘But what if I am merely a man?’ said Brynar.
Sol tapped his chest. ‘In here is where you are strongest.’
Brynar blushed. Sol turned.
‘Raven,’ he said. ‘Raven with me.’
Chapter 30
‘Get me some strong spirit.’ Densyr snapped his fingers at Dystran.
‘Quickly. Same cabinet where you kept it.’
Dystran huffed and walked across the room. Densyr squatted back down by Septern. He had long ago turned from the sounds of combat emanating up from below.
‘Hey. Snap out if it. Don’t lose yourself in there.’
‘Safe inn . . . side,’ mumbled Septern. ‘Nottt harm we.’
‘What the hell is he muttering about?’ Dystran poured a clear oily liquid into a goblet and handed it to Densyr. ‘Just don’t let him lose the grid.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ said Densyr.
He tuned into the mana spectrum. The shapes that signified the Heart and Septern were no longer distinct. Like the Heart had reached out and grabbed him, part-consumed him. Or that he had decided to become one with it. The Heart itself appeared normal in terms of flow and density but Septern’s mind map was confused and flickering.
‘Septern. Septern, can you hear me?’ Densyr laid a hand on Septern’s arm. ‘Dystran, I think you might want to join us. Is Vuldaroq anywhere nearby?’
‘In the catacomb chambers, working on resonance theory with Sharyr,’ said Dystran. Densyr heard him kneel down. ‘Are you going to use that spirit or . . . ? Oh dear Gods drowning.’
‘Septern, what are you doing?’ demanded Densyr.
‘I didn’t even think this was possible,’ said Dystran.
Densyr shook his head. At least the remnants of the ward grid appeared to be calm. He’d done something to stop the loose ends flailing. A gentle blue pulse was running along the existing lines. A circuit had been closed, temporarily at least.
‘Nor me. Septern?’
‘Mmmm . . . ore control. Beauty. Form fails.’
Septern’s breathing was shallow and rapid.
‘He’s pouring himself into the Heart,’ said Dystran.
‘He can’t,’ hissed Densyr. ‘It’s like making yourself the wind or fire or something. Can’t be done.’
‘Can we be sure?’ asked Dystran. ‘On the point of death, when our soul is about to leave our body, who’s to say what is possible?’
Densyr heard wonder in Dystran’s voice. ‘I think you’re missing the point, rather. He’s supposed to be buffering the failing grid from feeding back into the Heart and blowing it to smithereens.’
‘And who’s to say he isn’t doing just that? Presumably you want to know whether we should try to bounce him out using the spirit.’
‘And?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Smashing,’ said Densyr. ‘Septern. How long can you survive like this?’
‘Approaching . . . near. Survival no. Change. Have seee nn . . . Nottt harm we.’
‘Septern, you are making no sense. Can you keep the grid secure any more?’
‘Always always. Housssseess safe.’
‘He’s delusional, Dystran. If he loses his mind, he loses any hold on anything.’
‘Can you be so sure? Really sure, I mean.’
‘I hardly think this is the time for research and experimentation concerning the soul’s ability to fuse with mana on death. We have to know if he’s secure. Xetesk depends upon it.’
Dystran remained calm. ‘Look at the Heart. Look at the ward grid. Steadier than you or I could achieve, no?’
‘I’m aware of that,’ said Densyr through gritted teeth. ‘But he is surely close to death. When that happens, we might lose the college.’
‘You can step in, Densyr. I can help you. What other duties must you be free for?’
‘Nothing much. Organising my guard, directing my mages, securing my college and defending what remains of my city and hence Balaia. Trivial, really.’
‘But nowhere are your talents more useful than in saving the Heart. Is there really anything more important than that?’
Densyr dropped out of the mana spectrum and looked at Dystran hard, searching for signs of duplicity. Any senior mage had to be considered a threat, even one who had willingly stepped aside from his post.
‘It is one of a number of key areas,’ fenced Densyr.
‘Let me command the defence. I do have certain experience in that area.’
‘Following my orders?’
‘Naturally, my Lord Densyr.’
‘Knowing I could pull the plug on any opportunist ambition by simply disconnecting myself?’
‘That is a comment unworthy,’ said Dystran.
Densyr shrugged. ‘I’m Lord of the Mount. I can suspect who I damn well choose.’
Dystran chuckled. ‘And a fine one you are too. And thinking clearly at last.’
Densyr was interrupted by a commotion a little way down the wide spiral stairway leading up to the chambers that had become his centre of operations.
‘Ah, excellent. At least someone is capable of following my orders. I do believe the reluctant Raven are about to be presented to us.’
There was no knock on the door. Rather it flew back against its hinges so violently that a cracked decanter was upset on a nearby table, crashing to the ground and spilling fine wine over a priceless rug. Glasses rattled on the tray and a bookend fell over, disgorging some rather ancient texts onto the floor, mercifully clear of the pool of vintage red.
Auum, Ghaal and Miirt issued across the floor to stand far too close to both Densyr and Dystran. Following them came the bizarre menagerie that was The Raven, Sol’s family, a trio of wolves and a ClawBound pair. Thraun pushed his way to the front and laid Hirad on the table, taking a cushion from a chair for his head.
Densyr’s mouth dropped open, and when he closed it, he had to suppress what would have been an ill-timed smile.