But now, more than ever, they couldn't afford to be fearful. They had to invest as much as they could in strengthening walls and gates. The spells that bound the stone and wood had to be strong or they would be torn apart by the Xeteskian mages who would not just outnumber them but would be operating without risk once any attempt to raise the Heart got under way.
They had found, though, those few Julatsan mages inside the College, that their mana stamina levels were low; that forcing spell structures and lattices to coalesce was terribly difficult; and that for castings of any complexity, two of them now had to do the job of one. Progress had been slow and demoralising.
Having orchestrated wall bindings throughout the morning, Pheone had been spent not long after taking lunch. The expressions of those around her reflected her own inescapable feelings that whatever they did, it simply would not be enough. That no matter how many elven mages came through their gates, they would fall short of the number needed to raise the Heart.
Before saying anything she might regret, she had returned to the walls. Despite her weariness she had walked their circumference again and again, trying to gain some hope or comfort from the warmth of the day and the irrepressible goodwill of birds whose songs gloried in the vitality of spring.
It hadn't worked. Outside in the streets, the quiet was ominous. So many had left Julatsa, for the Gods alone knew where, leaving behind a void where the babble of life should have been. She could hear the odd cart rattling over the streets and smelled bread baking and forges working. But the sense of community was gone. The mayor might have been right to urge his citizens not to fight but in effectively driving so many from their homes in fear, he had ripped the soul from the city.
And now, all Pheone and her pitiful band could do was wait to see who arrived first. If it wasn't the elves, everything was lost anyway and, frankly, she wasn't sure if she'd have the energy to fight. If she was true to herself, she wasn't sure she had fight in her in any case. The thought that they might walk away had crossed her mind but every time it did, she was reminded of the appalling emptiness of life without the ability to touch mana. It gave her the reason to carry on.
Below her in the college, the work went on. Commander Vale had brought his guard into the college and the militia had joined them once their families were gone and their houses boarded over. He had been vocal in his condemnation of the Mayor and felt that this betrayal of Julatsa left him, Vale, with no alternative but to pledge his allegiance to the college alone.
It was a grand gesture and one that had brought back some much-needed but temporary belief. The truth of the matter, however, was in the numbers. Not many more than a hundred armed men had come to stand in defence and less than half had any experience of battle at all. Xetesk was bringing hardened soldiers.
She heard someone call her name and looked around. Ahead of her on the west side of the parapet, he was waving at her. She waved back and set off towards them, seeing a couple of others gather and look away out. Closer to, she could see it was Geren. He seemed to be everywhere and his belief had never wavered. He had redeemed himself completely; transformed from the shambling ingrate who had walked through the gates a year before, and he was a lesson for them all.
‘Ihope this is good news,' she said as she joined them.
'That remains to be seen,' said Geren. 'Look.'
He pointed out into the cloudless sky. Beyond his finger, Pheone could see the dark mass of the Blackthorne Mountains and the dazzle of sunlight reflecting off the Triverne Inlet way distant and sending up a glittering haze.
'What?' She spread her hands. 'It's a beautiful scene, I'll grant you but-'
'Look higher, above the mountains.'
She looked. A 'V formation of geese or ducks was high in the sky. She tracked them for a while and saw them scatter and dive quite suddenly. A black dot was left in the space where they had been, growing larger very quickly.
'What is it?' she asked.
'It's quite simple,' said Lempaar. The old elf had joined them unannounced. 'It's a dragon.'
Pheone had no idea how to react to that statement. Out of everything she might have expected to hear, it was the least likely. But it made a kind of bizarre sense nonetheless and the connections were not long forming in her mind. She supposed also, that there were few other things of such apparent size that it could possibly have been. At least it wasn't a completely ridiculous suggestion. There were dragons somewhere south, she'd heard. And The Raven were friends to them. Ilkar had spoken of it before and had clearly been moved by his encounter with them.
She felt fear and anticipation at once and felt her pulse quicken and her throat go dry.
Before long they could all make it out and Pheone sensed panic spread from them and whistle through the college. People were shouting, some making for buildings they thought might be safe. She heard the frightened whinnies of horses and then the question to which she had no answer.
'What will we do?'
'There's nothing we can do. It could be friendly and if it is, we should… I don't know, welcome it? If not, I fear we aren't enough to stop it killing us all. If I were you, I'd be praying to whatever God you think might help you best.'
She knew that was pathetic but the faces of those by her told her they had no better solution. So they watched as the extraordinary beast flew closer. Seeing its shadow cross the city, Pheone got an early impression of the sheer size of it. Its great wings stroked the air, propelling its huge but graceful body through the sky. Its head, on the end of a long, ridged neck held a mouth that could swallow a horse whole. Its rear legs, carrying powerful taloned feet, were swept back under its bulk.
Those feet swung forwards as it closed. Pheone saw its startling blue eyes searching for a landing place. The wings beat back. She felt the breeze through her hair and across her face, breathed foul air and heard the whump of the sails as they applied a braking force. The sight almost blinded her to her duty but in the last moments, she turned her attention to those below and yelled out.
'Do nothing! Don't attack, keep your distance.'
She should have laughed. As if anyone would do anything else. Instead she felt a nervousness clamp around her body and realised she was shaking. She watched the dragon sweep once around the college and land with a shuddering impact in the centre of the courtyard and knew she was the one who had to approach it.
'Stay here,' she told them unnecessarily.
She made her way to the nearest stairs, seeing the dragon fold its wings back and wobble slighdy as it gathered itself to settle down. Descending the stairs, it was lost from sight and she hurried the last flight and trotted through the buildings surrounding the courtyard, waving people to adopt a calm she did not feel herself.
Emerging from between a lecture theatre and the infirmary, she paused for a few moments, trying to take in what she saw. Ilkar had told her they were awesome but he hadn't prepared her for this. She was looking at its flank, the sunlight glinting off the few golden scales that sat within a duller mass. Its back arched high, three or four times her height, and its tail curled back along almost the entire length of its body.