‘NO!’ Now Sha-Kaan’s voice was there for all to hear, and it echoed from the walls. ‘Give back what you have taken from me!’
‘Over here!’ shouted Denser, and as Hirad glanced right, the mage appeared briefly some thirty paces right along the wall from the double doors. The Dragon cocked its head and breathed in his direction, fire scorching a wall, rolling up to the ceiling and incinerating wood and tapestry, but Denser had already disappeared. An oppressive wave of heat washed over Hirad. He stumbled, crying out, gasping momentarily for breath, the roar of the flame and its detonation in the air shaking him to his core. The entire hall seemed to be ablaze; the sweat beaded on his face. Through the smoke and burning threads of tapestry he saw The Unknown appear at the door, holding it open for him. A shadow passed through it and then he heard the Dragon rise to its feet. The Unknown paled visibly.
‘Run, Hirad. Run!’ he screamed. The Dragon took a pace forward, and then another, Hirad feeling the ground shudder beneath its feet.
‘Bring back what you have stolen!’ it boomed. Hirad made the door.
‘Close it!’ shouted The Unknown. He and Sirendor leant their weights against it. ‘Go, go!’ They scrambled for the doors into the central chamber. Ilkar and Denser sprinted away with Sirendor in close pursuit. Sha-Kaan breathed again and the huge double doors exploded inwards, fragmenting, sending wood and metal against the walls to splinter, twist and smoulder. The shock sent Hirad sprawling and he crashed into the wall that backed the unlit fireplace, burning shards of wood covering the floor and his boots, the intense heat suffocating him. He lay confused for a second, seeing nothing but flame, then looked straight at Sha-Kaan as the Dragon drew more air into its lungs, its head thrust through the wreckage of the crested doors.
The barbarian closed his eyes, waiting for the end, but a hand reached round and grabbed his collar, hauling him to his feet and through the right-hand of the two doors into the central chamber. The Unknown dragged him under the overhang of the fire grate as twin lances of flame seared through the openings, one to either side of them, disintegrating wood and howling away towards the opposite wall, melting the metal of the Dragonene crest above the fire to the right.
‘Come on, Hirad. It’s time to leave,’ said the big warrior, and he pushed Hirad towards the exit passage after the rest of the retreating party.
‘Bring back the amulet!’ roared Sha-Kaan. ‘Hirad Coldheart, bring back the amulet!’ Hirad hesitated again, but The Unknown shoved him into the passage as another burst of flame lashed the large chamber, its pulse of heat stealing breath and singeing hair.
‘Quickly!’ shouted Sirendor from up ahead. ‘The exit is closing. We can’t hold it.’
The two men upped their pace, tearing down the passageway and into the robing room. Another roll of flame boiled into the prayer chamber, its tendrils lashing down the passage, licking at Hirad’s back, the heat crinkling leather. Down the short entry tunnel Hirad could see Ilkar, arms outstretched, sweating in the light of a lantern as whatever spell he had cast kept the door at bay. But as he ran, he could see it inching closed. Ilkar sighed and closed his eyes.
‘He’s losing it!’ yelled Denser. ‘He’s losing it. Run faster!’ The door was sliding closed, the mage’s bedroom disappearing with every step. Sha-Kaan’s howls were loud in their ears. The Unknown and Hirad made it through, bowling Ilkar on to the floor as they did so. The door closed with a dull thud and the Dragon’s voice was silenced.
Ilkar, Hirad and The Unknown picked themselves up and dusted themselves off. The barbarian nodded his thanks to the big man, who in turn nodded at the now closed entrance. There was nothing, no mark in the wall at all to suggest that there had ever been a door there.
‘We were in another dimension. I knew the proportions were all wrong in there.’
‘Not exactly another dimension,’ corrected Ilkar. ‘Between dimensions is more accurate, I think.’ He kneeled by the prone mage. ‘Well, well, well. Seran a Dragonene.’ He felt for a pulse. ‘Dead, I’m afraid.’
‘And he won’t be the only one.’ Hirad turned on Denser. ‘You should have run while you had the chance.’ He advanced, sword in hand, but Denser merely shrugged and continued to stroke the cat in his arms.
‘Hirad.’ The Unknown’s voice was quiet but commanding. The barbarian stopped, eyes still locked on Denser. ‘The fight is over. If you kill him now, it’s murder.’
‘His little adventure killed Ras. It might have killed me, too. He—’
‘Remember who you are, Hirad. We have a code.’ The Unknown was standing at his shoulder now. ‘We are The Raven.’
Eventually, Hirad nodded and put up his sword.
‘Besides,’ said Ilkar. ‘He’s got a lot of explaining to do.’
‘I saved your life,’ said Denser, frowning. Hirad was on him in a moment, pinning his head to the wall with a forearm under the chin. The cat hissed and scrambled to safety.
‘Saved my life?’ The barbarian’s face was inches from Denser’s. ‘That’s your phrase for having me all but burned to a crisp, is it? The Unknown saved my life after you risked it. You ought to die for that alone.’
‘How—’ protested the mage. ‘I got its attention to let you run!’
‘But there was no need, was there?’ Hirad grunted as he saw confusion in Denser’s eyes. ‘It was letting me go, Xetesk man.’ Hirad stepped back a pace, releasing the mage, who felt his neck gingerly. ‘You risked my life just to steal. I hope it was worth it.’ He turned to the rest of The Raven.
‘I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath on this bastard. We have a Vigil to observe.’
Alun shoved the note across the table, his hands shaking. More hands covered his, they were strong and comforting.
‘Try to be calm, Alun, at least we know they are alive, so we have a chance.’
Alun looked into the face of his friend, Thraun, whose powerful body was squeezed the other side of the table. Thraun was huge, better than six feet in height, with massively powerful shoulders and upper body. His heavy features sprang from a young face and his shining-clean blond hair was gathered in a ponytail which reached halfway to his waist. He was regarding Alun with his yellow-ringed deep green eyes, earnest and concerned.
He flicked his head, the ponytail swishing briefly into view, and looked around the inn. It was busy with lunchtime traffic and the noise of the patrons ebbed and flowed around them. Tables were scattered around the timbered floor, and here and there, booths like the one in which they sat gave an element of privacy.
‘What does it say, Will?’ Thraun’s voice, as deep and gravelled as his barrel chest might suggest, cut through Alun’s misery. He removed his hands from Alun’s. Will sat next to him, a small man, wiry, bright-eyed and black-bearded, thinning on top. Will pulled at his nose with thumb and forefinger, his brows arrowing together as he read.
‘Not a lot. “Your mage wife has been taken for questioning concerning the activities of the Dordovan College. She will be released unharmed assuming she co-operates. As will your sons. There will be no further communication.” ’
‘So we know where she is, then,’ said the third member of the trio whom Alun had enlisted. An elf, Jandyr was young, with a long and slender face, clear blue oval eyes and a short tidy blond beard that matched the colour of his cropped hair.
‘Yes, we do,’ agreed Thraun. ‘And we know how far we can trust the words on that note.’ He licked his lips and shovelled another forkful of meat into his mouth.
‘You’ve got to help me!’ Alun’s eyes flicked desperately over them all, never coming to rest. Thraun looked right and across. Both Will and Jandyr inclined their heads.
‘We’ll do it,’ said Thraun, through his chewing. ‘And we’ll have to be quick. The chances of him releasing them are very slim.’ Alun nodded.