Elfsorrow

'Oh really?'

'My hearing is a little more acute than the Xeteskians realise,' said Sha-Kaan, and Hirad felt more humour. 'After all, I am but a reptile, is that not right?'

'Their mistake,' said Hirad.

'Yes,' agreed Sha-Kaan. 'Most humans are fools. But they believe they have isolated a power they can use in inter-dimensional space and they are excited at re-establishing a linkage to your closest relative dimension, though I am at a loss as to why. The Arakhe, the demons.' He paused and Hirad felt the edge come off his mood. 'You are keeping something from me. Do not.'

'They are preparing to leave,' said Hirad. 'They want to use everything they've found to win the war on Balaia. We don't think they intend to help you.'

The silence in his mind was total, and for a time Hirad thought the dragon had left him. But a brooding fury grew in the space so recently filled with hope. He felt it like a weight, pressing down on his brain. It hurt.

'You are sure of this?'

'The Protectors are sure,' said Hirad, his breath a gasp.

'Then we will ensure they do not leave.'

'Be careful,' said Hirad. 'They are a powerful group.'

'Better to die fighting for a way home than slowly on an alien hillside,' said Sha-Kaan. 'No one uses Kaan dragons.'

And he was gone. Hirad breathed easier, the pressure gone but leaving an ache in his head. The dragons were awesome fighters, but without their fire were weakened. He prayed that Sha-Kaan heeded him. If he didn't, Xeteskian spells could finish what the Dordovans had started two seasons before. Denser slipped between the rough-woven but clean sheets and blew out the single candle that illuminated the small room. He lay on his back and Erienne moved across to him, putting her head on his chest. He stroked her hair and she breathed deeply.

'It doesn't get any easier, does it?' he said.

'No,' said Erienne. 'Though at least I can distract myself here. The dark though. That brings it all back.'

'I know, love. I'm no different.'

His heart was as heavy as the day they had left Herendeneth, and he knew Erienne's must be too. And now here they were charged with something they didn't expect. The elves were dying and Ilkar was at risk. And if he sickened, the only humane thing to do would be to kill him. More death of those they loved. They couldn't let that happen. Bugger the rest of them but Ilkar deserved every day of his long life.

'Funny though, isn't it?' he said.

'What?' He felt her head move as if she were trying to look up at him.

'We came here to help Ilkar look for mages and now we're off to fight at a temple to save the whole elven race. It's horrible, I know, but I feel better for doing it.'

'The Raven needs a purpose,' said Erienne. 'Shepherd to a flock of reluctant Julatsan elves wasn't enough, was it?'

'No.' Denser chuckled. 'How was Rebraal?'

'I don't think he enjoys the touch of a human,' said Erienne.

'Good.'

Erienne slapped his shoulder. 'But he was fine. He'll sleep till just before dawn. I only hope it's enough. His determination is incredible. I think he'd have left tonight if Kild'aar and Ilkar hadn't stopped him. And by all accounts two days ago he should have been dead.'

'Like brother, like brother,' said Denser. He paused. 'And how are you?'

Erienne didn't answer immediately, just lay silent, listening to his heart beating and the sound of the rain hammering on the leaf thatch above.

'I miss her,' she said, her voice trembling but controlled. 'Every quiet moment her memory floods me.'

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It wasn't quite what I meant though. How's your head, the One?'

'It hurts more every day,' admitted Erienne. 'Sometimes a pulsing pain, sometimes a dull ache. But it never lets me forget it's there.'

'And have you thought of opening yourself to it? And seeking the advice of the Al-Drechar?'

Denser expected an angry response and was pleasantly surprised.

'Every day,' she said. 'When the pain is bad and Lyanna fills my mind. Then I wonder if I shouldn't get started.'

'Then why don't you?'

'Because they are causing the pain,' said Erienne, tensing suddenly. She pushed herself up on her arms and looked at him. He could just see her face in the dark, surrounded by her mass of long curls. Gods, but she was beautiful. 'I know it's them. Somehow, they're putting pressure on me and I will not dance to their tune.'

'If it is them, you'd think they'd have realised that by now,' said Denser. 'Didn't take me long, did it?'

He saw the flash of a smile. 'But they're old and fearful of dying before they can ensure the One survives. I'm just not ready and I wish they'd respect that. I could handle the learning; I just can't handle them inside my head. Not yet.'

'I understand. Just don't do it on your own,' said Denser, his hand rubbing her upper arm. 'I'm here. We're all here.'

She lay back down, her fingers running up and down his chest and stomach. His gut muscles tensed.

'That tickles,' he said.

'I know.' She carried on. 'It's good to have something approaching a proper bed again, isn't it? I bloody hate hammocks.'

Denser laughed. 'Can't say I got used to them either.'

'This feels great though.' She raised herself up on her arms again. 'Want to put it to some proper use?'

He didn't answer, just dragged her face to his, kissed her deeply on the lips and let the mana cocoon them and their passion sweep them away.

Chapter 24

The Raven, led by Rebraal and flanked by the mysterious painted elf and his companion panther, set off towards Aryndeneth as first light began to pierce the morning's heavy cloud cover. Just before dawn, they'd witnessed a deluge harder than any they'd seen before, accompanied by a spectacular lightning storm and splitting reports of thunder.

There was something indefinably powerful about the pair that Ilkar had named ClawBound. They were linked in mind, he'd said, and utterly dependent on each other. The panther had sized up and dismissed The Raven immediately. All bar Thraun. Shapechanger and panther had stared deep into each other's eyes, Thraun crouching to stroke the animal's head, the panther responding by licking his hand and face. An understanding passed between them, that was certain. And when Thraun had stood, Hirad saw the painted elf nod at him. Very slight, but there nonetheless. Thraun showed no emotion bar the slightest of smiles.

Crossing the log bridge, they could see the trench had claimed the lives of many small rodents while the lizards and snakes kept their heads above water while they searched for a way out.

Rebraal led them south, occasionally pausing to look over his shoulder, shake his head and offer prayers to whichever God he thought was listening before slipping away again through the dense forest, leaving almost no mark. The same couldn't be said of The Raven. Rebraal had given Hirad and The Unknown a short, angled chopping blade each and told them in halting and very rusty Balaian that they should only use it when they ran out of room.

Through the morning, the heat grew and Hirad finally understood what Ilkar had meant by the sapping conditions in the forest. Sailing and rowing upriver, they'd been outside the oppressive heat-trapping weight of the canopy and a light breeze had kept conditions tolerable. Now though, only a few hours into their walk, he could see the wisdom of the light leather Ilkar had insisted they buy for armour.

Sweat beaded and ran on his face, it dripped down his back and soaked the backs of his legs. He felt as if he'd dipped his head in a hot stream, and the more he wiped it away the more it came. They were plagued by clouds of flies the magnitude of which they certainly hadn't seen when camping on the way to the village. For a brief moment, Hirad wondered if he shouldn't wear the fine net that covered his hammock at night. Imagining himself dressed in it brought the only smile to his face the whole morning.