Shadowheart

'No,' began Darrick.

'Or perhaps whatever's left of the Black Wings' army of the righteous.'

'Hirad you aren't helping,' said Darrick.

Hirad winked at The Unknown. 'Actually, we're probably strong enough to take them on. Couple of spent mages, several injured warriors and the seriously ill. No problem.'

'Hirad, stop now,' said The Unknown. He held up a hand to

Darrick. 'What our barbarian is trying to say in his bludgeoning, tacdess way is that we need a place to hole up, at least for a few hours. We're too sick to travel to the Al-Arynaar camp right now. But we can't afford to be behind die Xeteskians when they break the siege.'

'I know all that,' said Darrick rather testily.

'Yes,' said Hirad. 'And you're carrying a wound more serious than you are admitting.'

'I'll live,' said the general.

'That's not good enough,' said Hirad.

'Meaning?'

'Meaning you're no good to us crippled. You could help yourself by sitting down for a start. Then turn that mind of yours to where we can rest relatively safely.'

Darrick glared at Hirad but sat next to him anyway. 'A lot depends on Denser,' he said.

'Doesn't it always?' replied Hirad.

'And on Sian,' added Darrick. The elven mage looked up. 'Are you able to cast?'

'It is difficult,' she said, feeling for the words. 'The mana is dark. Weak.'

'That does not sound encouraging,' said The Unknown. 'Denser, what's your situation?'

Denser pushed himself to his feet, giving Auum's shoulder a consoling squeeze as he did so.

'I have nothing left,' he said, walking across to stand by The Unknown. 'Evunn is not as bad as I feared but he needs a mage soon who understands MindMelt to undo the damage. It's a senior spell. And my spell around Erienne's mind is bleeding away. I have to rest and I have to seek the demon gateway to get my stamina back quickly. But there doesn't seem much prospect of that. There's more. I did have some time to look at a few of the theories back there in the Laryon hub. It's dimensional connectivity and power they're looking at and I didn't like the look of the way the research was headed.

'We should warn the allies, because if you remember the Dimen-sionConnect spell Xetesk used at Understone a few years back, they'll need to be prepared. So, all in all, I'd say the situation is somewhere between dismal and desperate. The only bright spot is that the familiars won't be able to fly in this. There's too much power in this storm, it'll upset their senses.'

'So where do we go right now?' asked Hirad. 'None of us is fit to fight, we don't have a mage that can cast and we're carrying Erienne.'

'Like I said…' Denser glanced across at Erienne. Thraun was hunched over her, keeping the rain from her face. 'Erienne is the real worry. She's battling the One on her own until Cleress wakes. This storm will seem like nothing if Cleress can't help her and I dread to think what damage is being caused to her mind.'

'She is strong,' said Thraun, looking up for a moment. 'She fights.'

‘Iknow Thraun but I can't be there with her. It's not…' Denser trailed off and the desperation he'd been trying to hide burst on to his face. He stood helplessly, the rain pounding down harder now, and gestured uselessly. 'She's alone in there. What if I've lost her?'

Hirad scrambled to his feet and stood in front of Denser, grabbing his shoulders.

'No one's losing anyone,' he said. 'Not this time. We can beat this, all of it. We're-'

‘Iknow,' said Denser, his smile weak but genuine. 'The Raven.'

'And don't you forget it. She's not alone and neither are you.'

Rebraal had returned during the exchange and was checking on Evunn.

'Here's what we do,' said The Unknown. 'The elves go back to their lines. Evunn needs help and maybe he'll get it there. We have to get ourselves away from here and hidden. Darrick, how far can you walk? Hirad, Thraun, you too. No exaggeration.'

'It's a question of where, not how far,' said Darrick. 'We're the opposite side of the city to where we need to be. And we're too close to the walls. I'd say the walk back for us under normal conditions would be about three hours. It's four 'til dawn. There's nothing I'd call good cover without taking a massive detour. We either head for the Al-Arynaar, or burrow in here. Getting halfway and being captured in the daylight won't help us.'

He was right and they all knew it. Hirad felt his chest. The bleeding had stopped but he'd lost a fair bit of blood. He couldn't fight again until the cut was at least partially healed. Darrick's limp was pronounced and Thraun's trouser leg was stained dark with blood. Four hours wouldn't be enough.

'Then we have to stay here.'

'No,' said Rebraal, joining them. 'It's too dangerous here. Supplies come here every night.'

'So what do you suggest?'

'We will run back with Evunn. Sian will stay with you and you walk as far as you can. The ClawBound will find you. We will send help. Elven help.'

'We can't afford to be caught in the open,' said The Unknown.

'The ClawBound will find you first.'

Hirad shrugged. 'What choice do we have?'

Dystran had changed his blood-soaked shoes and washed the sweat and grime from his face and hands before joining the survivors of his top team. None of them looked any better than Ranyl who had also made the early-hours meeting in the minor banqueting hall.

He surveyed the tired, drawn pale faces in front of him. The Circle Seven was broken. Two had died, one in the corridors under attack from the TaiGethen, one by The Raven. Kestys was dead too, so was Gylac, removing his most senior dimensional and elven archive expertise. The mages who had been researching the connectivity spells were gone too, slaughtered in Laryon's hub. The Gods knew how many others had fallen. Suarav and Chandyr had yet to confirm the number of dead college guard and reservists but it had to run close to three figures.

The shock around the table was understandable. All this damage, and caused by so few. Dystran took them all in one by one. Suarav and Chandyr sat together, backs to the door, which was flanked outside by guards. The oval table was only half full. Ranyl, with his cat in his lap, was the only one exhibiting calm. For the remainder of the Circle, Dessyn, Prexys and Hyloch, the night in the catacombs had shattered their belief in their own security. Each of them knew that they were alive only because they had not run into The Raven or the TaiGethen.

'Gentlemen,' began Dystran, once a servant had poured him a mug of sweet herb tea and withdrawn. ‘Iam aware of how you must all be feeling. I am aware that it is tempting to cast about for blame.

We will not fall to that temptation. The purpose of this gathering is to assess the damage to our operation quickly, agree what actions will follow and so allow us, those that can, a few hours' rest before dawn.'

'We must examine the failings of our security,' said Dessyn, the Soul Tank Master. He was a middle-aged man of massive magical ability but no real strength of will.

‘Ithink I have already made myself clear,' said Dystran. 'The time for such an assessment is in the future. May I remind you that outside our city, there are a considerable number of enemies determined to win the war. It is our duty to stop them and examining our security lapses will not do that. Besides, we know how they got in and where they got out.'

Dessyn opened his mouth and had half-raised a finger to point at Suarav when Dystran cut him off.

'Enough. Dessyn, if any of us had foreseen that Denser and The Raven were not only at Xetesk but with the elves in the raid, we would not be having this meeting. Do not point at others except in so much as to blame yourself. After all, Suarav knew nothing of the passage from the warehouse. No non-mage did until tonight. Instead, tell me this. Where are the Protectors?'