Sha-Kaan’s voice whispered across his mind.
‘Well done, Hirad Coldheart, your signature is strong. Come, bring your companions.’
Hirad wasn’t quite sure what he was experiencing but it was something akin to euphoria. His head felt light, his limbs empowered, his heart thumping its joy. He quashed the worry that immediately surfaced. Sha-Kaan was here.
‘Here again, are we?’ said Ilkar’s voice at his shoulder. It held no surprise but more than a little weariness.
‘But this time the meeting will be easier and happier,’ said Hirad.
‘Well, nothing will be stolen, I’m sure,’ said Ilkar. The Raven were not long in waking. The Unknown came to Hirad’s other shoulder, silent, face drawn, eyes flat.
‘Just like old times, eh Unknown?’ Hirad smiled.
‘No, Hirad, not really.’ He led the way inside. Hirad paused, watching Denser and Erienne walk around the back of the portal.
‘Fascinating,’ said the Dark Mage. ‘I can see you from the other side but I can’t put my hand through to wave at you. It’s as if it only really exists as you see it.’ He rejoined Hirad. ‘Will you try something?’
Hirad shrugged and nodded. ‘If I must.’
‘Walk around like I’ve just done. I’ll stand here.’
Hirad raised his eyebrows and began walking, stopping after only a couple of paces.
‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘That’s not right.’ The opening had followed him, he was still in front of it.
‘Yes it is,’ said Ilkar. ‘We’re behind it again, if behind is the right word.’
‘You’re Dragonene now,’ said Erienne. ‘That portal only exists because of you and your link to Sha-Kaan.’
‘Oh, I see,’ said Hirad. He hadn’t a clue what Erienne was talking about.
‘Any chance of the rest of you coming in?’ The Unknown’s face appeared at the portal. ‘Come on.’ He turned back inside.
‘Will, what about Thraun. Will he come?’ asked Hirad.
‘I’m only just convinced of going in myself,’ said the wiry little man, black hair shot through with grey, the legacy of a terror that still plagued his nightmares. ‘But I guess he’ll follow if he’s still keen to protect me. I think your dragon’s presence scares him.’
‘He’s not alone,’ said Erienne.
‘Come on, Raven, let’s meet the Great Kaan,’ said Hirad, adding, ‘Swords sheathed.’
It was like walking back inside a memory. Hirad could recall with complete clarity his blind pursuit of Denser the first time they had been inside Sha-Kaan’s melde-corridor. That time, he hadn’t stopped to look around him. Now he did, albeit briefly.
The passageway was short and The Unknown waited at its far end, inside the small bare chamber. He hadn’t opened the door. The Chamber itself had benches down either wall, a stone-flagged floor and dark green painted murals depicting fire and jungle.
Through the door was the first hall, the only part of which Hirad remembered was the fire that Sha-Kaan had blasted through the twin doors to the right. These had been replaced, any scorch marks removed and a log fire burned beneath the Dragonene crest that hung on the wall above the grate opposite him.
Hirad walked towards the crest, drawn by its symbolism, two claws beneath the open maw of a dragon breathing flame. A ghosting within the crest toyed with his eyes. He moved closer and what he saw swelled his heart. It was the crest of The Raven, blood-red background behind a silhouette of a raven’s head and wing. It sat within the Dragonene symbol, proud yet subordinate. Hirad had no quarrel with the chain of command it implied.
‘Well, well, well,’ said Ilkar, whose eyes had picked out the credit to The Raven very early. Hirad smiled.
‘One in, all in,’ he said.
‘Which way to Sha-Kaan?’ asked Erienne. Hirad pointed right and led The Raven onward.
Through one of the twin doors which flanked a second fireplace they faced the crest-emblazoned, rune-carved doors that Hirad had seen destroyed what felt like a lifetime ago. But they were whole, the gold of the crest glinting in the light of the hall fire and the braziers hung around the small antechamber.
‘Push it open,’ said Hirad and The Unknown did so, revealing the Dragon Hall, its tapestries, fires, heat and Sha-Kaan, lying flat at rest, neck stretched out towards them, tail coiled behind the vast bulk of his body. He spoke for them all to hear.
‘Welcome, Hirad Coldheart, Dragonene. Welcome The Raven.’ Sha-Kaan was immense. It was a fact Hirad had never truly allowed his conscious mind to accept, not since their first meeting, and it was clear to him why. His size alone was terrifying but to accept that something getting on for one hundred and twenty feet long also had mental powers and knowledge far ahead of his own was a step closer to madness. And that in addition to the physical power and strength that oozed from every pore.
But looking at Sha-Kaan for the first time as a Dragonene, the mists were parted for him. Now he could see past the bulk into the mind within. He could feel the thoughts and fears. And he knew the Great Kaan was hurt.
Hirad led The Raven forward across the tiled floor towards the damp mud and earth on which Sha-Kaan rested. Ten fires burned in grates on three sides of the dragon and the hall was full of heat and condensation. They fanned out in a natural defensive formation, The Unknown at Hirad’s right shoulder, Will at his left, the mages in a line behind, Denser, Ilkar and Erienne left to right. Of Thraun, there was no sign. As they closed, Hirad could see the fire-damage marks on the dragon’s neck.
‘Tell me what to do, Sha-Kaan,’ he said.
‘There will be time for that later, or no time for any of us at all,’ said the dragon. ‘There is great trouble in Julatsa. Your mages there have unleashed a power they are unable to contain, though I fear they do not know it.’
‘May I speak?’ asked Ilkar. Sha-Kaan raised his head a few feet from the ground. His old eyes blinked slowly.
‘An elf of Julatsa,’ he said. ‘I would be most interested in what you have to say but be brief. Time is short.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ilkar. He stepped forward to stand by Hirad, Will giving way with some relief.
‘The powers you are talking about relate to an old and established spell called the DemonShroud. The Council of Julatsa are all expert in its casting and in its dispersal. I can assure you that they have the wit to shackle the powers of the demons. The Shroud by its very nature is a closed conjuration. The demons cannot step outside its bounds. It is impossible.’
Sha-Kaan was silent for a moment, his heavy bone brows arrowing between his eyes. He breathed out, a hot, sour exhalation that caught in the throat and stung the eyes.
‘And is this what your Council believe?’
‘It is written in our Lore and the mana structure is sound, tested and completely reliable,’ replied Ilkar.
‘But,’ said Sha-Kaan, and his voice tolled like a knell of death,
‘the fabric of your dimension is not sound. The forces of interdimensional space are at work in your skies and the Arakhe, demons, are a dimensional power. They have a hold, currently contained, which the Shroud gives them. And in the moment of dispersal, as you call it, there is the potential to make that hold permanent. If that should happen, the demons could threaten your survival and our melde.’
‘No,’ said Ilkar, frowning and shaking his head. ‘The mana construct is wholly controlled by Julatsa. The demons name the catalyst but beyond that are forced to operate the Shroud as an extension of their dimension within Balaia constrained by our magic.’
Sha-Kaan’s eyes flashed and Hirad felt the brief surge of anger.
‘Ilkar, I don’t think—’ he began.
‘I’m just explaining what I know,’ said Ilkar.
‘Then you know very little!’ Sha-Kaan’s voice whistled around the hall, booming from the tapestry-clad walls. ‘The DemonShroud gives the Arakhe access through your dimension and so the column projects from their dimension on a course through interdimensional space until it strikes another it cannot yet pierce - Skies know where that is. It is not contained within Balaia and the weakening of your fabric is feeding them more power than you can imagine because the essence of your dimension is flowing into interdimensional space where they can drink their fill. They have the strength to overpower your Council.’