She swam to the end of the man-made promontory and opted to swim to shore as opposed to walking along the shingle on the lee side of the harbour wall. This wind was no respecter of land conditions and its chill would cut her to the bone as soon as she emerged from the water. Indeed, it crossed her mind as she watched the pitching fishing vessels that many of their owners would be spending a sleepless night, praying to the Gods of the Seas that their boats were undamaged come dawn.
In the last fifty yards, Ren'erei's mind turned back to Erienne and the Elm. There was no way they would refuse passage to their captors; nor even delay them for too long – Lyanna's Night was upon her; and her and Balaia's fate lay in Erienne, Denser and Ilkar, at least, coming to Herendeneth quickly to provide support for the ailing and weakening Al-Drechar. But that same need for haste brought the Black Wings closer too, and their solution could not be allowed. The One had to survive.
But the Black Wings had a problem. They needed the elves to see them safely through the waters around Herendeneth and the elves wanted Erienne alive. That meant Selik wasn't going to be in total command, which gave them all a chance. So, the second option was the only one really open to Ren'erei. Find The Raven and take a ship to follow, if not beat, the Ocean Elm to Herendeneth. There, they would have to hope they had the strength to prevail.
But as she pulled herself ashore, shivering in the sudden cold of the windswept harbour-side, Ren'erei heard elven orders barked across the echoing docks, heard the thundering of hooves coming closer with every heartbeat and saw moving lights approaching from the south-west. She ran north behind the fish market and towards Centenary Square, wondering if it wasn't all going to be taken out of her hands anyway. No matter, she had to try and that meant finding The Raven.
Erienne soon lost even the strength to scream and Selik had just stood, smiled his twisted smile and let her exhaust herself. Now, the fear, loathing and hopelessness swamped her, threatening to turn her legs boneless. There was a dreadful pain growing in her gut, a twisting agony of encroaching terror that blossomed and swept nausea through her whole body, leaving her shaking, tears streaming
across her cheeks. Her throat was raw from the screams and she didn't resist as Selik pulled her back towards the unnatural quiet that had engulfed the Elm.
Selik walked ahead, strong arm on the neck of her shirt, fingers pushing at the skin of her throat, threat in every kneading movement. At the main deck, he thrust her forward into torchlight and the cheers of Black Wings soldiers. She stumbled but didn't fall, turning to take in everything she could.
Blood-spattered timbers, elves with heads bowed and under sword guard, bodies lying where they had fallen, some still moving and one nearby clutching at the base of a crossbow bolt buried high in his leg. His slim face was white and strained and his attempts to stop the steady bloodflow were watched dispassionately by the Black Wings. And there she stood, still unable to cast a spell to heal him because of the damage Lyanna had inflicted on her.
There were lights on other ships now as crews woke to the trouble in the docks and she hoped that they and those who must have heard in the town would come and help. It was pretty much all she had to cling on to. That and Ren'erei doing the right thing and not trying to get back on board without help.
Erienne dragged herself to face Selik, summoning up her last dregs of self-belief.
'You've got what you want. Now help these wounded before their deaths add to those already on your vile hands.'
Selik paced towards her, shaking his head. 'Tut, tut, Erienne. Hardly in a position to make demands, don't you think?'
'You want a crew to sail this ship, don't you?' Erienne could hear the words spilling from her mouth but didn't recognise the voice as hers. It quavered, with none of its usual confidence and strength. She could barely focus on Selik standing before her, his ruined face and laboured breathing testament to what she had done to him. Yet he lived, and the bile in her throat was all the more bitter that she hadn't killed him those years ago.
And in his eyes, she saw hate. Deep, brooding and cancerous hate. It came from him in waves. He had pursued her for more than six years, that much was now obvious; and safe in Dordover's College for much of that time she'd never given it a second thought. Why would she? Gods she'd killed him, surely? But there he stood, her
nemesis, with complete power over her, and it was that which truly terrified her. Because it gave the Black Wings the ability to destroy her family and her life a second time, and the very thought set her heart lurching painfully in her chest. Because she could see no way to stop them. Stop him.
What choice did she have? He would never let her go now, and to refuse to show Selik the way would condemn Lyanna and perhaps Balaia to death, just as agreeing to do so would. She was trapped and the only option was to buy time while leading Lyanna's executioners directly to her. She swallowed hard, feeling close to collapse, her vision defocusing, threatening to unbalance her.
'Well?' she managed.
'I have no intention of letting them die, Erienne,' he said. He snapped his fingers at one of his men and waved him towards one of the stricken elves whose blood loss was surely critical. 'But far more efficient help, of a more, shall I say, mana-led nature, will soon be arriving.'
'What?' And it all crashed through Erienne's head once again. She was transported back to her time as a prisoner in Black Wings Castle. There she had as much as been told that traitor mages helped the Witch Hunters. She had felt sick at the thought then, now it just added to her overwhelming feeling of hopelessness.
Selik smiled, his slack mouth stretching unnaturally. 'Don't think of it as betrayal, lady mage, consider it help. After all, we all want an end to this mess which the uncontrolled magic of your daughter has placed us in.'
Erienne surged at him, fingers hooking to claw the skin from his hideous face, but he caught her easily.
'Don't you touch her,' she grated. 'Don't you lay a finger on her.'
'I? Erienne, you misunderstand me. I have no intention of touching a hair on her undoubtedly pretty head. Indeed no Black Wing will do so. Others know what is best for the mana creature you spawned and I am happy to leave it in their capable hands.' He pulled her very close, his fingers digging hard into her upper arms.
'Want to know why I'm still alive? Even after your spell froze my flesh? Your Raven friends dumped my body in the cellars to rot with my companions. They should have left me to burn in the tower, lying in the warm blood of your sons.'
At the mention of her boys, she hunched inwards, seeing their slaughter as if it were yesterday. Their sightless eyes, their torn throats and the red. The dark red that was everywhere.
'Well, I haven't finished with the Malanvai family just yet. There's one left I want. You. And now you are mine for as long as I choose to let you live. And when you are dead, I can live again without your cursed shadow over me. Think on it, Erienne Malanvai and savour your last days.'
He spun her around to face the ship. It was quiet and through her tear-fogged vision she could see every face staring at her. One thought thundered again and again through her mind. She was lost but Lyanna must survive.
T pity you, Selik, still a lackey for others better than you,' she said through a choked throat. 'Because if you ever set foot where my daughter is living, the Al-Drechar will snuff you out as easily as you might squash a fly. Their power is like nothing you have even begun to conceive.'