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Behind them, Ilkar sighed.

'What is it?' Hirad didn't look round.

'I-' The elf broke off momentarily. 'Gods. Just grab the two in front of you now. It's all you can do.'

The Raven never questioned Ilkar. Whatever he felt, it had to be big. Far too quickly for the men in front to react effectively. Hirad and The Unknown Warrior reached out and grabbed the collars of the men before them, hauling each off balance and dragging them under the shield, their blades flailing uselessly. Hirad jabbed the pommel of his sword into the jaw of his opponent to quiet him but his struggle was short-lived.

HellFire smashed into the inn, the columns of superheated flame seeking the souls of the living. But there were many columns and few still inside the building. And even as the fire gorged itself on souls and wood, blasting every window outwards in a spray of glass shivers, those loose columns sought and found the nearest victims to their cast destination.

Flame raged over Ilkar's spell shield, turning Hirad's world into a dome of sheet orange, white and yellow while the Arlen townsmen screamed in terror. But beyond, the cries were of death as the HellFire plunged into defenceless bodies, seared flesh spattering the walls, burning corpses flying like dolls about the alley and beyond in the street.

At The Raven's side, the Lakehome Inn was ablaze, flame gouting from empty window frames and rents in the slate roof.

'Ilkar?' asked The Unknown.

'Yes. Go, go!'

The Unknown shook the man in his grasp.

'Go back to your homes and look to your families. This is too big for you.' He thrust the man away, Hirad doing likewise, the two stumbling off through the carnage.

'Raven! Raven with me!'

Chapter 25

Thraun knew where she was and he called the pack to him, though he knew they were scared enough to flee. They ran through the prey, howling and nipping as they went, sending the scared animals jumping and turning against the wishes of their masters. The pack dodged the sharps in the hands of the humans easily, darting between the legs of the prey and beneath their sweating bodies.

But again, there would be no feasting. Because the air smelled bad and the flame around them made it worse. The answer to it was the woman with the mist around her soul, whom Thraun knew and had seen with the infant before his meeting with man-packbrother. She was on the floating land that moved with the wind and it was her name man-packbrother had spoken. Thraun could not reproduce the sound but inside he understood, and knew he had brought the pack close to the answers they sought.

Tet this close, they were to be cheated. At the edge of the land, there was a gap too large to leap and with every beat of his heart, it grew larger. The wind blew hard and strong and drove the floating land far from his grasp. He howled and barked for it to return, turning around and around in his frustration, but the wind only blew harder, the rain stinging his eyes and nose and soaking his fur. And more of the great white leaves blossomed on the trees of the floating land to catch the wind and the woman disappeared into the night.

He howled another time, called the pack to him and fled away, looking again for man-packbrother.

The Raven had no time to help Arlen. The Earl and his men had run into something way beyond their capacity to control. A glance down the street behind them showed the Ocean Elm deploying more sail as she cruised into the lake. And in the sky above, the circling

Dordovan mages swept across the flame-filled night, one landing on her deck.

Sprinting up towards Centenary Square, Hirad could hear the detachment of Dordovan cavalry ahead of them, probably skirting the square itself to avoid contact before riding down past the jail and back to the dock. To their left, more hoofbeats and running feet.

Just to the south of the market and at the end of a row of offices, The Unknown stopped and held out an arm to stop Hirad and Ilkar running by him. He was facing better than seventy Protectors in a defensive ring around six horse-borne mages. It was clear the mages would have run him down but the Protectors had instantly slowed at the sight of The Unknown, and Hirad could feel the awe sweep out from them.

'I need forty Protectors and as many mages as you can spare from whatever plan you're operating,' said The Unknown. His sword was before him, point down and still.

'And who the hell do you think you are – Lord of the Mount?' demanded one mage, the irritation in his voice mixed with a certain respect.

'No, I think I'm the Unknown Warrior and that we are The Raven and we all want Lyanna saved from Dordover.'

The mage nodded. 'In truth, I recognised you. You think you have a better chance of achieving our goal your way?' Now the respect overrode the ire.

'The Ocean Elm is gone. Our only chance is to get a ship ourselves. We know of one provisioned and ready but Dordovan cavalry are riding to it now. I need the Protectors to get aboard and to help in any future fight. And I need the rest of you to keep the main Dordovan and Lysternan forces busy. I need your answer now.'

The mage nodded again. 'Take thirty. I can spare no mages. I am Sytkan. Have Denser signal me when you have the ship.'

The Unknown smiled. 'Thank you, Sytkan. You might just have saved the One child.' He pointed. 'Aeb. Bring our brothers.' He didn't wait for them but turned and, with Hirad and Ilkar, ran for the docks once again.

Erienne heard the sounds of battle but could see nothing, her tiny window looking backwards into the night. She prayed her College

had come for her. She prayed harder that the next time the door opened, Denser would be framed in it. She felt the bump as the stern of the Elm ground against the berth wall, the timbers protesting. She heard the orders shouted out by the captain, reluctance in every syllable, and she felt the rocking as the ship gained clear water and got underway. And finally, when the door opened and Selik entered, she wept.

'Well, well, well,' said Selik, ignoring her tears. 'Such excitement, it seems a pity to leave it behind.'

'Get out, Selik. You are filth and I don't need to see you until you come to kill me.' She used the cuffs of her shirt to wipe at her eyes.

'Unfortunately for you, this is my ship and I go where I please,' said Selik before lightening his tone. 'I spoke to your old friend General Darrick just now. It seems he's unhappy to see the forces of good in charge of this ship.'

Erienne was interested in spite of herself but didn't raise her head. 'Well, he's not a murderer, is he?'

'No. But a man whose principles get in the way of expediency.'

'What do you mean?' Erienne felt confused and alone. They were sailing to Lyanna yet the journey only promised her death at the hands of her betrayers and she was exchanging irrelevancies with the Black Wing, Selik.

'He has deserted rather than help his Dordovan allies further.'

'Good for him. They've proved little better than you,' said Erienne, the taste of bile back in her throat. 'Is there anything else?'

'Actually there is. I wanted to introduce you to those I promised would be arriving. And I do so like to make good on my promises.'

'You know something, Selik, you sound just like your dead friend Travers.'

'I'll take that as a compliment. He was a great man.'

'Don't.'

Selik's smile was forced. 'Don't forget to whom you belong. Now, I'm forgetting my manners.'

Erienne saw him come in and saw the smile on his face, the half-open arms and the benign expression. Then, the rushing in her head fogged her vision and she sat heavily on her bed, hands pressing on

the blanket either side of her to keep her upright. She looked again, forcing herself to focus.