Whisperwood. That was where he had seen the gods war with weather, on the night he had gone to capture the blue-haired baby. Whisperwood, where Losara’s father had been living, the man Tyrellan had recognised under his Sprite vestiges, who had taken the Stone and therefore Losara …
What to do?
No doubt the light would be sending someone, and Losara would be caught between two enemies …although would he see his father as an enemy? What were Corlas’s intentions?
With the dreamer gone and Roma dead, Tyrellan was left solely in charge. If he could smash the light’s forces here and now, would it matter what shape Losara emerged in from the Stone, if he even did?
‘Their mages are finally spreading out,’ came Turen’s voice beside him. ‘What are your orders, sir?’
He could not abandon the blue-haired man! The prophecy might still hold, and there were other reasons besides. For a moment he saw the little boy, reaching up to tweak him on the claw, so unthinkingly bold when others cowered in terror and wanted nothing to do with any claw of Tyrellan’s.
‘Take charge,’ he said. ‘You’re up to it.’ He turned to Turen. ‘Aren’t you?’
Turen did not blink. ‘Of course, sir.’
Tyrellan nodded. ‘I’m going after the Shadowdreamer.’ He cast his gaze about the shadow mages, and found whom he searched for.
‘Fazel!’ he barked.
Yes?
Attend me. You are going to speed us to the river.
•
As Lalenda made it back to the mages, they dropped the ward upon her. She spotted Tyrellan and Fazel on horses galloping off towards the river, while Commander Turen was striding about shouting orders. Stepping in his way, she interrupted him mid-sentence.
‘Where has Tyrellan gone?’ she demanded.
‘To Whisperwood, mistress,’ he said, and strode on.
‘Whisperwood,’ she muttered. Was that where they had taken Losara?
‘What we be doing, flutterbug?’ said Grimra.
She considered the way north. Travelling to Whisperwood would mean flying over enemy troops, but maybe if she climbed high enough …most of the Zyvanix seemed to be fighting the Graka anyway, so she should be able to steer clear of them.
‘Going to get Losara,’ she said, spreading her wings.
•
‘Would you mind doing that elsewhere?’ came a voice, and Jaya turned in irritation to discover a healer frowning at her.
‘What?’ she said. She had not been doing anything …and that was the problem.
‘The pacing,’ said the woman, gesturing at the grass, and the furrows Jaya had evidently tramped there. ‘It’s unsettling the wounded.’
‘Fine,’ said Jaya, and turned back towards the battle. ‘You’d think,’ she said to herself, ‘that with all that’s going on, a bit of Arkus-damned pacing wouldn’t matter to anyone.’
Three riders broke from the fray heading towards her. They were moving unnaturally quickly, and moments later she could make out Fahren’s blond hair, and Elessa’s, and the dark tangle of cloak and scowl that was Battu. What had happened to make them return? Yet as they approached the camp, they didn’t look like slowing down. Without thinking, she dashed to stand in their way, holding up her hands, but they broke around her.
There’s no time , came Fahren’s voice in her head.
What goes on ? she said.
Bel and Losara are in the Stone , said Fahren. Corlas has taken it to Whisperwood. We shall do our best, I promise you, to get him back.
Wait! she yelled in her mind, but there was no more.
They blurred through the camp, on towards the distant wood. Incomprehension swamped her – Bel and Losara were in the Stone? What had happened? Didn’t Bel merging with Losara mean victory? And Corlas, Fahren had said – Corlas was back?
Overhead she saw a dark blot in the sky, and squinted.
Lalenda.
Avoiding the mindless chaos of battle was one thing, but if Fahren, or Bel, or anyone, thought she was going to idle here while others raced to decide the fate of her man, they had lost their collective mind.
She spun and saw the healer who had just chastised her stooping over a horse’s hoof and waggling her fingers. Jaya ran and leaped onto the beast’s back.
‘Wait!’ said the startled woman. ‘I’ve only just mended her! She should not be ridden right away!’
Jaya ignored her, kicking the horse into action.
In the distance, storm clouds were beginning to gather over Whisperwood.
•
With three potent mages each speeding their own horse, it took little time to reach the wood. Fahren dismounted before the tall grey trees, and stared in with some trepidation. There was something there, something on the edge of his senses that he could not identify, which could mean only one thing: Old Magic. He reached a hand between the trunks and met resistance, a grey shimmer appearing at his fingertips.
‘There’s a barrier of some kind,’ he said.
The world darkened as a shadow fell across them.
‘Look,’ said Battu, and Fahren followed his gaze skywards.
Clouds were forming thick and fast, though each floated distinctly separate. In the spaces between them the sun still shone, even more brightly than usual perhaps, great golden rays stabbing down at the wood.
‘They’ve been at it all day up there,’ said Battu. ‘You have noticed, no doubt? Assedrynn has not been able to get a foothold. So why …’ He averted his eyes as the cloud they’d been standing under floated onwards, replaced by glare.
‘Why now?’ finished Fahren. ‘Why here?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Elessa, ‘they are cooperating.’
Fahren and Battu turned to her slowly.
‘Well,’ she continued, ‘each of them wants what’s in the wood. If there’s something standing in their way, perhaps it’s better to join forces now and fight over it themselves later.’
‘My enemy’s enemy …’ said Battu. ‘You may be right.’
Disturbed by the idea of the gods banding together, Fahren turned back to the wood. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Old Magic may be strong, but so are we. We must,’ he cast a bolt, punching the barrier and making it wobble greyly, ‘break our way in.’
•
Corlas had drained his power mightily while out of the wood, but now he felt it slowly replenishing. He stepped onto the coiled root at the edge of his clearing, as the warriors who’d been with him joined the other assembled Sprites below. They were waiting for their lord to address them, though he remained uncertain of what to say. He raised the Stone to show them, its chain clutched tightly in his fist, but hardly heard the triumphant whoops that sounded at the sight of it. Were his sons, his son, inside? He, they, had to be …but what now, what next?
Corlas.
My Lady! I have the Stone, but …I do not know …
Do not fear for your boy’s life.
He is inside the Stone?
Yes.
Why does he not emerge?
There must be a reckoning of some kind. Perhaps not all is easy, when fitting dissident parts together.
How long will it take?
Corlas, I have not all the answers. Listen, for I must away swiftly. Arkus and Assedrynn are enraged, and have joined forces to attack our defences. I don’t know how long I can maintain the barriers that prevent their folk from entering. I must see to them, and you must send warriors to bolster my efforts! In the meantime, protect the Stone. I shall return once your son emerges, to awaken his Sprite blood as I did yours.