Shadowheart

Then don't delay me. Tell The Unknown Warrior I am mindful of his family.

The contact was broken. Hirad shook himself and simultaneously felt a huge fist grab a handful of his leather armour and drag him to his feet.

'Hirad, time to go.' It was The Unknown, eyes fierce with new determination though deep within, the suffering under the tumult of voices from the Protectors dragged at his mind. 'There's been a change of plan.'

'There has?'

'Yes, there has. Now move.'

'Sha-Kaan will keep your family safe,' said Hirad as he was propelled towards the corridor down which Denser and the TaiGethen had just vanished.

The Unknown paused enough to nod his thanks. 'The Protectors will be there for them too.'

'What's the change of plan?'

'We're going to release the Protectors.'

Nyam stood at the threshold of greatness. Or folly. He had heard the whispered words related to him by his Protector, Ark. He had stepped away from elven ears when the import of what was being discussed became apparent. But he had not for one heartbeat guessed what Dystran's next move would be. And so he stood in the corridor outside the Al-Drechar's rooms and his hands shook and the sweat dampened his armpits and face.

'He cannot ask that of me,' said Nyam. 'The devastation that could be unleashed. We've learned that much, surely.'

Ark was quiet for a moment, relaying Nyam's words and receiving Dystran's next utterance.

'He assures you the power resides in Xetesk to counter the threat of devastation. He demands your compliance.'

'Please, it is an unnecessary risk, Ark. Impress upon him that capturing the girl will give him what he wants. He doesn't have to do this.'

Another pause. 'He feels it is time to exert his authority over this island. If you will not do his wishes, one of us will.'

'Ask him to reconsider, please. There's still time.'

Ark's blank mask faced him. 'He asks you to remember who is Lord of the Mount. His decision stands. He will give the word.'

Nyam nodded wearily. 'Tell him it will be done on his word.'

'My mage.'

Nyam waited until Ark focused on him again, hating himself for his cowardice. 'Ark, you will carry out this deed.'

Ark merely nodded. After all, he didn't have a choice.

A roar split the air, shuddering windows in their frames. Nyam winced.

'Oh dear Gods burning, he knows.'

The Unknown Warrior tried without success to shut out the voices in his head. They spoke of confusion, of anxiety but through it all of purpose. They were advancing towards The Raven, they were sheltering Diera and Jonas and one, Ark, was standing by to murder Myriell. He didn't feel he had any choice. His brotJiers concurred but the situation was causing unsettling currents in the Soul Tank.

It brought all the memories crashing back for him yet again but this time so much more acutely. The view through the mask; the hand of a demon hovering ever near his soul; the knowledge of the pain the creatures could cause him on a whim; the strength of the Soul Tank; the depth of brotherhood that he could never experience again and could never explain.

The Unknown breathed deep and looked left and right. Two of the remaining three Al-Arynaar mages moved slowly up the passage, tuned deep into the mana spectrum, looking for any hint of further Xeteskian wards as they moved towards the junction ahead. Behind them walked Marack and her surviving cell member, Harroc. Indeed all the Tai cells bar Auum's had now lost a member following the piercing of the shield outside the tower complex.

Porrack and Jaruul, Allyne and Lisaan were guarding a left-hand passage opposite him and just beyond the catacombs' map room in which Auum stood with Thraun and Erienne. The former two were trying to understand the three-dimensionai mana model of the network of passages, chambers and openings, the latter trying to gather her broken concentration.

Hirad, Darrick, Rebraal and Auum's Tai were covering,the hub room they'd so recently vacated, waiting for the onslaught they could hear echoing through the catacombs.

Everything was ready. He and Denser were outside the door to the research room, Denser trying to divine the solution to the trap ward cast over its surface and just a few yards away, the place he'd never thought to see again but now knew he would. The Soul Tank.

'Hurry, Denser,' he said. 'This is unbearable. They are closing. Please, I don't want more to die.'

'It's complex, Unknown,' whispered Denser. ‘Ican't see the solution.'

'Dammit, I don't have the time,' growled The Unknown. He stepped across to the map room and beckoned Auum out. 'Rebraal!' he hissed. The Al-Arynaar elf ran back up the passage. 'Are they closing?'

Rebraal nodded. 'On us any time. Our mage is ready.'

'Good. We're getting nowhere fast here. I need that door opened and the trap triggered. Is he fast enough? Denser says flesh contact will trigger it.'

'I'll see to it.'

The conversation was short. Auum sized up the door, handed his boots to Rebraal and sprinted away about twenty yards.

'Denser, move. Can't be waiting for you.'

The Unknown motioned anyone in the potential target area aside. Denser saw Auum coming, muttered under his breath and stepped smartly aside. The TaiGethen leader came up the corridor at a pace The Unknown could never have matched, his legs a blur. By the research room door, he stepped around side on, snapped into a cartwheel and lashed out a foot as he travelled, connecting solidly with the heavy bound wood.

He was past it as the ward triggered. A rectangle of flame seared out from the door, scorching the wall opposite and billowing heat along the passage.

'Gods burning!' The Unknown put his hands in front of his face for a moment then dragged out his sword and marched to the door. 'Unlocked? Good.'

He twisted the ring handle and kicked the door in, striding through in the same movement and running around the long table that dominated the floor space. Two mages had spun round from the blackboard they'd been sketching on, jaws slack.

'Which one of you bastards is Kestys?' demanded The Unknown bearing down on them.

One pointed to his comrade who, bravely enough, pointed to himself.

'Lucky for you,' spat The Raven man.

He grabbed the other and rammed his sword through his gut, the blade rasping on his backbone, and let the body drop to the floor, blood gushing over his boots. The dripping blade was against Kestys's throat in the next instant.

'Do exactly what I say, exactly when I say it, and Denser might just persuade me to leave you alive.'

'Who-?'

'Just pray you can do what we think you can or they'll be mopping you up too.'

'Unknown!' called Hirad. 'We've got company.'

The Unknown Warrior smiled at Kestys unpleasantly, saw the drops of urine puddling around his shoes and grabbed his collar.

'The sand timer has started so I hope you're really good. Because you've got even less time than we have.'

Chapter 22

The thud of spells pressuring the Al-Arynaar ForceCone protecting the open end of the corridor could be heard, heavy, regular and with an air of inevitability.

‘Ineed another mage here now!' yelled Hirad. 'Rebraal, get one of them, Sian can't hold this on her own.'

A shout in elvish and the sound of feet slapping past but The Unknown could.barely lift an eyebrow to care. Here it was. In a plain room, hung with darkest blue hangings. No pattern lifted the sombre atmosphere, nothing but the gende blue light offered any life at all. The chamber was no more than a cell, fifteen feet on each side with a waist-high stone dais in the centre. And on top of the dais sat a carved stone block only the height of his dagger and twice as long. So physically diminutive but the ancient Xeteskian language and screaming faces carved on its flat surface told the knowledgeable everything about that which it contained.

It was the Soul Tank. It had no lid and the hollow inside was governed by the demons. Their deal with Xetesk meant that they linked each soul to its host Protector body; and in return for the control they exerted in the name of Xetesk, they leached life energy from the souls at their mercy. For The Unknown, it oozed power and evil. It was a prison with no windows and no air. One in which the essence of so many Xeteskian men had been trapped from puberty to death and one from which only he had escaped alive.