Shadowheart

'It is because this college is under attack by a few ageing mercenaries and some extremely impressive elves.' No meaningful reaction. He slammed his fist on the table. 'They are tearing up my college! Surely even you heard the odd shout or the odd spell marking our once pristine walls?'

'My Lord,' acknowledged someone though Dystran was barely listening.

'Tell me, Myx, where are The Raven and their elven friends at this moment?'

'They have just run into the dome, my Lord,' said Myx. 'The doors have been WardLocked.'

There was a stirring around the table.

'Yes, gentlemen, they are scant feet below us. Fortunately, there is a small bright spot I can apprise you of. On Herendeneth, a proactive young mage by the name of-' He clicked his fingers.

'Nyam, my Lord,' said Myx.

'Nyam has confirmed beyond reasonable doubt that the Al-Drechar are shielding a One mage. As you know, we feel that mage to be Erienne of the same Raven who are currently trapped beneath us. Here is what we will do.

'First of all, we need to send a message to some old friends. Then, I intend to prove that Erienne is that mage, and you must be ready to act on the mana spectrum the moment that proof is clear. We have always said that we should be able to adequately protect a One mage from his own mind while the awakening process completes, then school that mage in the art as laid down in certain of our more precious texts.

'It is time for us to make good on that assertion.' He turned to Myx. 'Your brothers, how close are they to their positions outside the Tower complex?'

'Before the hour turns, they will all be ready, my Lord.' 'Good. In that case instruct our new friend Nyam that when the hour turns, he is to kill the Al-Drechar currently shielding Erienne.' Dystran turned back to the table and examined the ends of his fingers before looking up into the blank faces of his Circle Seven. 'That should give us our proof, don't you think?'

'We can't stay here,' said Denser.

'No, really?' snapped Hirad. He rubbed a bloody hand through his hair. 'And there was me thinking we'd set up camp here, wait for the trouble to die down.' There was an impact on the doors. Timbers creaked but it seemed half-hearted, an act of frustration more than a serious attempt to break in. 'Gods, this is just like Lystern, except we don't have horses waiting saddled and this city has walls.'

'Quiet, Hirad,' said The Unknown. 'Denser, facts and quickly. What do you have in mind?'

'This is an indefensible position, despite how it might look. Outside, they'll be waiting for instructions from the Circle Seven who will be in here somewhere. Look, it's grim. Our escape route is blocked. Right now, I don't think there's a way out for us. At least in here, or rather, in the catacombs, we can achieve something and hold out longer.'

'Like what?' asked Hirad.

'Got a dragon to send home, haven't you? I know where the research is held. Maybe we can last long enough to effect the casting. Depends how simple it is.'

'You aren't confident about our chances, then?' said The Unknown.

Denser shook his head.

'It's the best plan we've got,' said Hirad. 'Rebraal, you hearing this?'

The elf nodded. 'I've relayed it to the TaiGethen. We all knew it was a risk coming here. We're with you.'

'And the Aryn Hiil?' asked Denser.

'It will not fall back into their hands. We'll destroy it first.'

'Good, then let's go,' said the dark mage. 'One last thing, Unknown. Where we think this research is, and the lead mage. It's near the Soul Tank. I'm sorry.'

The Unknown nodded. 'I'll be all right. Just don't ask me how I'm feeling, any of you. You already know.'

'Follow me, then,' said Denser. 'I-'

A high-pitched sound flashed round the dome. Loud and piercing, it dug at the ears and vibrated through heads. Hirad clapped his hands to the sides of his head, grunting involuntarily. Across the dome, swords clattered to the floor and the elves were dropping to their knees, their pain written on their faces.

Abruptly, the sound ceased, leaving behind it the impression of great space. A voice, amplified by every surface and clear as a bell, filled the space.

'Now I have your attention, I have a proposal for you. You can hear me, can't you, dear Raven, dear elves?'

The voice echoed away. Hirad picked up his blade and scanned around, looking for the source. He saw Thraun breathing hard, his eyes closed, face pale. The elves were faring no better. The Unknown was glaring at the ceiling, chest puffed out, sword once again in his hand. Darrick was rubbing at his ears, face carrying that expression of irritation that was becoming a trademark, while Erienne stood close to Denser, looking to him for an answer which he duly provided.

'Dystran, how unnecessarily loud to hear your voice.'

‘Irather thought you'd be impressed by it. You should be. You have gathered in the most perfect place for Intonation. Bear that in mind. I can be much, much louder.'

'Yes we are all duly impressed by your ability,' said Denser, his lone bored. 'What do you want?'

'I want to end the bloodshed,' said Dystran. 'You have proved your prowess fighting my people but that's over now. You are caught, you know you are. But you need not die. I have a deal for you. Surrender yourselves now and none of you will be harmed. The elves we will guarantee safe passage back to Calaius once this siege is broken, assuming they let us have back what was taken from our library. And The Raven will remain here as our guests until this unseemly conflict is over. General Darrick, as a man under sentence of death in your own college, I should think that a very happy solution. Denser, you can reacquaint yourself with the place that made you. Sol, you can be sure your family are safe, talk to them through your Protector brothers whenever you like and Erienne… Erienne, with us you can fulfil your potential.

'It is tempting, I know. But you'll want to discuss it so I give you a short time to do so. Then open the doors. The other way is pain and suffering, believe me.'

Dystran's voice echoed away to nothing. Hirad opened his mouth but saw Denser put a finger to his lips and point up. Then he spread his arms wide, asking the question. Every head shook. Denser smiled, put his finger back to his lips and beckoned them all on, pointing to Rebraal to come close.

'They'll have the entrances to the catacombs guarded. Perhaps Auum could do the honours,' he said into the elf s ear.

Rebraal nodded. 'We will see to it.' He walked over to Auum and relayed the message.

Led by the TaiGethen, The Raven entered the catacombs of Xetesk.

Pheone walked alone around the crater that hid the Heart of Julatsa, her mind torn between grief and hope. Her people had reached the Xeteskian siege lines and contacted the Al-Arynaar. Communion had confirmed what she wanted to hear. They would come but had a mission to perform before leaving the lines and heading north. The news had filled her with an optimism she had never thought to feel again. But so quickly, her heart had been crushed again.

The Raven were in the game, it seemed, though their location was a closely guarded secret because of trouble with both Lystern and Dordover. But she hadn't really listened to the reasons why. Because when she had asked after Ilkar, she had been told of his death. The Communion had broken then and there, and the loss and emptiness had swept through her like a gale that had no end.

She had run from her friends, where they had been conducting the linked Communion, and they had been respectful in turn, leaving her to herself and her thoughts.

She had cried long for Ilkar, his smile, his energy and his sheer presence. The touch she would never feel again, the pain that must have accompanied his death from the Elfsorrow. She thought of The Raven too. Such a close friendship now destroyed by something they couldn't fight. Helplessness. She knew how that felt all right.