Nightchild

The Unknown shook his head. There was no use saying anything but the truth.

T don't know.'

'Fantastic. I'll make myself comfortable, then.'

'You know, Denser, there's much more to this. You've always thought Dordover would kill her. Now you merely know the method. There's something else. I thought so outside Greythorne. I know so now. You've been rambling on about being the only one who can do something about this mess and now I want to know how. So let's hear it.' The Unknown loomed over Denser.

The Dark Mage stayed seated, looking up at the big warrior. 'Unknown, I don't know what you're talking about.'

The Unknown leaned in. 'Denser, you are an old and dear friend, and you are a mage of supreme talent. But this fist can still shatter your bearded jaw more quickly than you can cast. Now, you're hiding something, it's making you do and say stupid things, and I will find out whether you tell me or I divine it from examining your broken teeth.' The Unknown was not smiling.

Ilkar watched it all from his seat on the opposite side of the stinking cell, wondering how much intent lay behind the threat.

'Have we really been reduced to this?' he muttered. 'Sitting in cells, threatening each other?' No one answered him.

He could see Denser weighing up the threat. After a long pause, Denser waved The Unknown back a little, reached inside his shirt and pulled out some folded pages.

'I translated more of the Prophecy in Xetesk,' he said.

Ilkar stood up. 'Just how many-'

'Six,' replied Denser. He shrugged. 'I'm sorry.'

'And are you going to tell us that your next little secret's nothing important too?'

Denser shook his head, his expression terribly sad. 'No, I'm not. I can save her Ilkar. I can save Lyanna. I can save us all. I really can.'

Ilkar exchanged glances with The Unknown, knowing they were thinking the same thing. They'd heard these words before he cast Dawnthief. Both of them grinned. Ilkar spoke.

'But that's great, isn't it?' he said. T don't understand why you're being so weird about it.'

'There's a side effect,' said Denser. Ilkar went cold all over. T will die.'

General Darrick had ridden back through Arlen with four of his guard, Denser's cold certainty that Dordover would kill Lyanna weighing heavily on him. Arriving at the castle, he had been ushered into a plush fire-lit drawing room and asked to wait, if he cared to. The Earl, he had been told, was at a supper engagement to celebrate the birth of the son of a merchant noble friend and would return before midnight.

After days in a cold wet saddle or shivering in a tent, Darrick couldn't resist the lure of soup, bread and a warm fire to sit by and, after ensuring his guard were fed, despatched one with orders for Izack, and settled in.

Fighting the desire to doze, he reflected that he had fully expected to arrive in Arlen to oversee the provisioning of ships for the voyage back to wherever Erienne had come from in the Ornouth Archipelago. In fact, he'd thought he might even be able to just step aboard and sit with Erienne and help her understand while the elven ship led the Dordovans and Lysternans to the prize they all prayed they could take and control to save Balaia.

But now it seemed the Dordovans had no urgency at all and he would have to organise the whole lot himself. Hardly auspicious evidence of inter-College co-operation.

Riding through the gates of Castle Arlen, he had seen the relaxation among the guards, the smiles of those who handled the horses and what verged on informality from the squire who led them into the keep. It was as if they'd won a great victory and had no idea of the scale of forces converging on them, coming closer with every heartbeat.

Darrick had expected the Earl to be in good spirits when he arrived back from his supper, but instead, Jasto had been cool, though his words were kind enough as he shook the General's hand.

'General Darrick, what a pleasant surprise.'

'My Lord Earl.'

'I've just had a mug of mulled wine delivered. Care to join me?'

Darrick smiled. 'Perhaps a little. All this talk of soup and hot wine, it sounds like winter's upon us.'

'Perhaps it is,' said Arlen, filling two silver goblets, handing one to Darrick and gesturing him to sit on one of the plush chairs that flanked the fire. 'This magic smells bad, so they tell me, and it's making my town cold and wet before its time. It's all about a girl, isn't it?'

'Yes,' said Darrick, interested to find out how much the Earl knew.

'Hmm. And it sounds like we've been lucky here so far. Just wind, rain and a little lightning. Spectacular, too.' He mouth twitched up at the corners. 'We've had hurricanes, the ground eating a town whole. Even Korina has not gone unscathed; the seas have risen and smashed the docks there. So tell me, what is it you are here to do?'

'Find the child,' said Darrick. 'Bring her to safety where she can be controlled before more damage is done to Balaia.'

'And is that what all those Dordovans are doing in the south?'

'Supposedly,' said Darrick. 'But they don't seem to have achieved much aside from erecting their tents.'

'And they've been here over two weeks.' Arlen took a long sip of his wine. 'Now, I've left them alone because they have been the souls of politeness whenever they have come here. They have arranged charter of the Catalan Sun, they have eaten and drunk with my people and said nothing about what they're doing. Strange then, their alliance with the Black Wings, who are nothing but mindless thugs I have had to expel. I understood the Colleges to be united in their hatred of these people.'

T beg your pardon?' Darrick started, unsure he had heard the Earl correctly.

'And I'm even more surprised a man of your apparent honour and standing being linked with such an alliance. I thought Lystern above such mire,' continued Arlen.

'My Lord Earl, I must-'

Arlen raised a hand. 'This is my drawing room and I will speak until I am done. Now I understand you to have in the region of two hundred cavalry to the north west of my town. Take them home, General Darrick. They aren't needed here. I will not suffer College forces here any longer. The Black Wings are gone, your dubious allies are going to sail to Ornouth to find this child, and all will be put right.' He refilled his goblet.

Darrick rose, unable to keep seated. He couldn't believe what he had heard of the Dordovans.

'Earl Arlen, please,' he said, knowing his agitation was showing but not caring. 'The Black Wings. You are saying they are working with the Dordovans?'

It was such a bizarre question, he could barely credit it coming from his lips. Arlen looked at him for a long moment, confusion chasing itself across his face.

'You didn't know?' He pointed at Darrick. 'You didn't know.'

'No, and I'm afraid I cannot leave your town though I promise no harm will come to your people by the hand of a Lysternan,' said Darrick. 'There will be bloodshed and destruction here unless I stop it.'

'My dear General, you're being over-emotional. Ask anyone in the town what happened this morning. I snuffed out the situation. The Black Wings have been expelled, sent away with their tails between their legs. There is no one for you to fight.' He chuckled and shook his head.

Darrick fought to keep his temper. 'My Lord, there is a ship in your harbour. An elven vessel recently arrived.'

Arlen nodded. 'The Ocean Elm. Beautiful, isn't she?'

'You must give me permission to board her immediately.'

'Must?' Arlen raised his eyebrows. 'General Darrick, I am unused to having such demands made of me in my own drawing room.'

'Nevertheless, I stand by my request. Do I have your permission?'

'No, General, you don't.' Arlen rose to his feet. 'And until you can convince me it is a necessity for the security of Arlen, I shall continue to refuse.'