Denser uttered a short incantation. ShadowWings appeared at his back. Erienne nodded and he swept her into his arms and straight up into the night sky. He could see a group of half a dozen archers kneeling in a circle, loosing off shots at the TaiGethen elves.
'Ready,' said Erienne.
Denser angled his body horizontal to the ground and tightened his grip on Erienne, who hung below him, his arms clasped under her breasts, her legs locked around his. He heard her mutter and drag at the air with her fingers as she finished the preparation. He flew over the archers, just thirty feet above their heads. One looked up instinctively, shouted and angled his bow. Too late.
Erienne jerked her arms downwards. The ForceCone flared out, battering the archers to the earth. Bows and limbs snapped as the pressure of the spell beat relentlessly down, compressing everything beneath it into a six-inch-deep indentation in the soft ground, perfectly circular and ten yards across.
Denser circled while Erienne maintained the Cone until the pleading and crying out had stopped. She thrust her arms again, hard. Denser imagined, only too easily, the ribcages crumpling. He wheeled back towards The Raven before any fire could be brought to bear on them, magical or otherwise.
'Angry about something?' he asked.
'You could say,' she said. 'My head is killing me.'
Denser cruised in low over the left flank. Below them The Raven and Al-Arynaar were breaking the last of the resistance. With TaiGethen in behind them, the enemy were cut off and frightened. And while the Al-Arynaar, unused to in-line battle, were able to make little headway, The Raven had no such trouble and corpses littered the ground in their wake. One massive strike from Aeb finished it. His axe smashed through an unprotected skull, top to bottom, the force of the strike taking the weapon through the man's shoulder and shearing off his right arm. The survivors turned and ran.
'Go, go!' shouted Hirad, and The Raven charged after the fleeing enemy as they sought to dodge the TaiGethen, pursuing them through the gap in the cliffs, along a sandy beach and out into the flat, silt-filled estuary.
'Stay up,' said Erienne. 'Assuming your arms are up to it. I'll prepare again.'
'Anything in particular?'
'I thought HotRain.'
'It'll do the job.'
Denser swooped low. 'Hirad, we're going forward, see if we can't disrupt the runners or the defence.'
'Be careful.'
The mage pair headed up once more. Denser could see panthers in among the elves, joining the push forward, their enigmatic partners sprinting close behind, unarmed and unconcerned. The defenders on the other bank were falling back, trying to maintain an orderly retreat with the Al-Arynaar and the awesome TaiGethen pressing forward with increasing ferocity, though they were outnumbered almost three to one.
Denser flew on over the heads of the defenders and out into the estuary. A small knot of men was running towards one of ten or more rowing boats. Out in the bay, three ships were moored, flags fluttering atop mainmasts. One unfurled lazily as he watched, caught in a wash of pallid moonlight. It was unmistakable.
'I don't fucking believe it.' He dived for the knot of men. 'Let's get those runners.'
'Suits me.'
Denser flew in fast and low, keeping tight control of his concentration as his fury threatened to boil over. Erienne released the spell, sending a focussed cloud of HotRain spearing down, flaring in the sky as it fell, each drop of magical fire the size of her thumb.
Sudden blue light mixed with the orange of the spell as the HotRain crackled uselessly over the shield covering the runners.
'Dammit,' snapped Erienne.
Denser growled his frustration and wheeled once more, looking down on the faces that craned to see who it was that attacked them. Arrows came from the night, flicking close but harmlessly by. And from somewhere DeathHail sheeted up at them, forcing him into a desperate climb and turn. Too close. Gripping Erienne tighter still, he took a last look down, meeting the eyes of a man he recognised.
'We'll hunt you!' he called, as he rushed skywards beyond sight and arrow range. 'Don't you realise what you've done?'
'Calm down, Denser,' said Erienne. 'What's got into you all of a sudden?'
'Tell you when we land.'
The Raven were being left behind, refusing to sacrifice their discipline for a headlong charge. Not that it mattered. The TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar were outpacing everyone else.
Denser saw a TaiGethen come alongside a fleeing warrior, snap out an elbow and send him crashing to the ground, hands over his nose and mouth. The elf stopped and spun gracefully like a dancer, then stepped in to finish the man off, skewering his brain through an eye.
But they weren't quite fast enough. Boats were already being pushed out into the bay, desperate oarsmen pulling hard, arrows fired at them sending the blue of HardShields flaring into the night. The Raven could see it all and slowed as one. Denser landed behind them and let Erienne out of his arms. Hirad, feet ankle-deep in estuary water, threw his sword down into the silt.
'What did they think we were doing, fighting for the good of our health?' he said, and directed a contemptuous gesture at the elves on the right bank.
All the boats were away now and the fugitives who hadn't made it into one were plunging into the water and swimming out after them. Only a couple of bodies could be seen floating with arrows protruding from back or neck.
'They aren't used to fighting like this,' said Ilkar. 'It isn't their way. SpellShield down.'
'No? Well they'd better learn fast if they want their precious thumb and writings back,' said Hirad.
'Assuming those who escaped had anything.'
'I don't care about bits of parchment,' said Ilkar. 'I just want one of those we've killed to have the thumb in some inside pocket.'
Hirad nodded. 'Me too, Ilks, me too.'
'What now?' asked Darrick.
The Raven began to walk back towards the Al-Arynaar, searching for Rebraal. Behind them, they could hear the cheers of the enemy as their boats neared their ships and safety.
'Let's see what my brother has to say,' said Ilkar.
Denser felt weary. He followed behind his friends in silence, hand in hand with Erienne. She wanted to know the cause of his anger but he ignored the questioning look on her face. All of them had to hear it together.
They found Rebraal in conversation with Auum, his fierce expression telling them all they needed to know about the results of the fight. They were standing by the bodies of the four strangers who had been running cloaked. Hooked from the swamp before the piranhas could do much damage, they'd been stripped and every stitch of clothing searched and torn to shreds before being scattered on the ground around them. Ilkar asked the question before reporting back to The Raven.
'Parchment and texts only, I'm afraid,' he said. 'The thumb is on one of those ships.'
'How can we be sure?' asked Erienne. 'Any of them could have dropped it anywhere between here and the temple.'
'Pray that's not so,' said Ilkar.
'Put it this way,' said The Unknown. 'The men that escaped are the only clues we've got. Whether they have the thumb or not, we have to catch them.'
'So we need our ship very fast,' said Darrick.
Ilkar nodded. 'And the elves are coming with us. The message will be sent. Every elf with a sword or bow is going to be heading north to Balaia.'
'They're going to invade?' asked Hirad.
'What choice do they have?' Ilkar shrugged. 'They don't want to die. We don't want to die.'
'Right,' said Denser, coming to a decision. 'I'm flying back to Ysundeneth. Starting tonight. Jevin can sail round here, it'll be quicker that way.'
'Done,' said Ilkar. 'But I'm coming with you. You might just need a friendly elf.'
Denser smiled rather sadly and felt the blood pounding in his throat. 'Friendly, eh? Well here's a new test of our friendship, Ilkar. You want to know who it was attacked the temple?
'It was Xetesk.'