I didn't go wrong, Cleress, I didn't. I had worked out the gauge of the casting so well and it worked exactly as I had planned. Tou would have been proud. I mapped the mana trails, plotted the link lines to the demons and removed the linkage that held their blood vessels together. It was perfect. But when I did it again in just the same way, there was some form of surge within me and although the casting began, I had to shut down but I wasn't ever in complete control of that decision. It was
like my body sensed the danger before my mind did. What happened? Why can't I repeat? I have to be able to repeat, it's all we have.
Erienne felt her anxiety rising and the One power bore down on her. As ever she fought the entity, imagining it was a spider whose legs she had to pry from her mind to stop them crushing her. Abruptly, the pressure eased and Cleress's presence pushed the power aside.
Calm, Erienne. It knows your fear and it feeds off it. Remember what we showed you.
It's so hard, Cleress. I'm so tired.
I know. But listen to me. Tou pose so many questions yet the answers are there before you. I am proud of the casting you made. It shows true understanding of the potential of the One and demonstrated your control over the entity.
But-
Please, let me finish. Tou are the one who always felt the entity had more sentience than it actually possesses in reality. It was we who explained to you that it is your mind that gives it this virtual life. What you imagine, it can become. That is why you need to control your mind so closely when you release the power.
Tou're saying I caused the problem with the second casting?
We have all of us done the same. Tou crossed a waypoint in your understanding though I know it feels like failure to you at the moment. What you realise is that it is as we have always said. Casting with the One is essentially very simple but it is the feeding of power that is the complex part of the equation. I would stake my life that all you did the second time around was relax just that iota, as if you couldn't quite believe how easy it was.
Erienne thought to reply but Cleress wasn't finished.
Think before you respond. Recall what went through your mind as you prepared the second casting and saw how easily it all slotted into place. Examine your process. If at any moment you felt that it was too easy, that would have been enough. That would have relaxed the muscles of your mind to let the wrong gauge of power out. The One became what you imagined, just that little bit slack. And in a One casting, that can spell disaster.
She was right. She was absolutely dead right.
So what should I do? Next time there may not be a sanctuary.
Tou do nothing but believe in yourself, as Fm sure your friends have been telling you all along. The good part of this is that your body is now so attuned to the power flow within you that if it detects a flaw, it will close off. And it won't always leave you unconscious, either.
I'm just so scared of failing.
Then don't. Tou are equipped with all you need to know. Tou do trust me, don't you, Erienne?
Tes.
Good. Then trust what I say. Believe what I say. Tou must not doubt yourself. Focus on all the castings you have made that have been perfect. They far outweigh those which were not. Remember the tautness of your concentration.
It all sounds so straightforward when you say it, Cleress. But when I open my eyes, what will I find, I wonder?
Remember you are everything you think you can be. Tou are the One mage.
I am when you are with me.
Cleress laughed but it was a tired sound. Tou don't need my strength. Tou have a surfeit of your own.
If only I knew where to find it.
Tou know where it lies, child.
And you must be tired, old woman.
I am. So if you will excuse me I will rest. Bring yourself round. Gain from the contact of The Raven. Tou are each other's best chance.
Thank you, Cleress.
Sharyr knew he was screaming but he had no desire to stop. He thought perhaps Brynel and Suarav were doing the same and if they weren't, they ought to be. They were moving as one, he leading, shouting commands between his screams and keeping them simple. One thing he couldn't afford was for he and Brynel to pull in opposite directions. It would leave Suarav a dead man.
'Left!'
And they flew left, feeling the wind as a pack of strike-strain missed them to the right. They turned back in towards the shell. The sky lit up with a Julatsan barrage. Sharyr exulted. What a sight.
'Straight in. Trim those wings, Brynel.'
The mages adjusted their wings for raw speed and immediately
began to lose height, Suarav's weight dragging them down. Sharyr heard Suarav shout in shock as the speed struck them. This was a final approach. They wouldn't get another chance. In front of them, the wagons had started to move but there were those who had detached and were heading towards the edge of the shell where they were aiming to break through.
Their way was blocked by strike-strain and reavers, floating in the air ahead of them. Sharyr looked briefly below. They were no more than twenty feet in the air now and still sinking. They had nowhere to go.
'Hold course, Brynel. Close your eyes and let's pray.'
He felt a strange exhilaration. This was the defining moment of his life. For once he had been in control of his own destiny, and had chosen this path. He recalled being browbeaten by Dystran, he recalled his protestations and how he could never hope to have His voice heard. Not this time. So he didn't pray. He bellowed his rebellion.
'Hang on, Suarav. Enjoy the ride.'
They collided with the strike-strain. Sharyr felt the small creatures buffeting him. He put his head down and let it happen. Bodies hurtled into his head, midriff and legs. He felt the drag on his waist when Suarav was struck and just one huge impact that could only be a reaver.
And then he was falling.
He opened his eyes. They were inside the shell and the Wings had dispersed on the instant. The ground rushed towards them. They were travelling so fast. Too fast surely. Then they were all bouncing over the ground. Every impact was a new pain. He felt hard earth on his backside and the sharpness of wood or rock in his gut. He tasted dirt in his mouth and cried out when his shoulder jerked uncomfortably under him as he slid to a stop.
'Oh dear Gods, I'm still alive.' And he began to laugh.
Hands were about him and he could see faces. Voices questioned him, heavily accented. They were elves of the Al-Arynaar. He had heard about them.
'Are you hurt? Can you stand? We have to move now.'
He didn't know the answers. He moved to stand and pain lanced through his back. He winced. The arms helped him slowly to his
feet. He looked about him. Suarav was still on the ground but shaking his head, and moving freely. Brynel was smiling and gasping at the same time, a difficult combination.
Sharyr became aware of the sounds in the shell. The calls of demons and the cries of men and elves. The rattle of wagons, the hoofbeats and the fighting in every quarter.
'The cursyrd attack. We must move.'
'Yes,' he said. 'Yes.'
They started to move. Demons flew down on their heads. Tiny strike-strain nipping at their scalps and ears. He flapped his arms ineffectually. The elves hurried them along.
'They cannot really hurt you,' said the elf running beside him. 'Why are you here?'
T need to speak to the man. . the elf in charge. You need to know about the streets of Xetesk.'
T will take you to Rebraal.'
Sharyr had never heard of him but the reverence in the elf s voice was enough.
'He sounds perfect.'
The elf didn't answer him.
Behind them the wagons were rolling under attack from the skies above. Auum led his Tai through scorched grass and smouldering flesh. The cursyrd line had broken but it was reforming quickly. They, the Al-Arynaar and The Raven had to keep the cursyrd on the back foot. If the karron should reform in any great numbers, the mages' work would be undone.