A vast flat space of rock, grass and river stretched under the mist which reflected a gentle, warm light on to the land below, giving the homeland a tranquil aspect, easy on the eye. The river which meandered through the centre of the valley was a sparkling blue and the sounds of water reached them across the still, humid air from falls which fed the river in a dozen places he could see. The grassland was a luxuriant deep green tipped with red and blue just like the plain and, given the connected squares of close-cropped and waist-high stalks, was clearly tended and harvested for some purpose.
The buildings scattered along the valley sides, some low, flat and half-buried, others dug deep into the rock of the valley itself, seemed purely functional. But one magnificent structure dominated the Broodland. With its polished white stone gleaming in the filtered sunlight, its dome and towers striking towards the sky yet dwarfed by the extraordinary sculpted wings whose tips all but touched the mist above, Wingspread was a simply staggering monument to Sha-Kaan. And his carved face looked out at his domain, eyes forever watching for danger. Nothing like it existed in Balaia and, for all their magic, nothing ever would. This was a construct born of consummate respect and veneration for a leader the Kaan and their Vestare honoured freely and with a fervour lost to the peoples of its kindred dimension.
All the Balaians had stopped to drink in the view. Glancing across at Denser, Hirad saw the awe on his face while Erienne’s held an enraptured smile that had as much to do with the atmosphere of peace and safety as the sights before her. For Hirad, it was like coming home and he closed his eyes and let the feelings of the Kaan wash over him, his limbs tingling, his mind suffused with the thoughts Sha-Kaan let drift through his mind.
‘Tell me we won’t let this be destroyed,’ he said eventually.
‘We’ll save it or die trying,’ said Ilkar. Hirad looked at Ilkar, seeing that the determination that had bound him to The Raven for ten years had not dimmed.
‘Well, I have no intention of dying,’ said Hirad. ‘Tell me about our chances.’ He motioned that they should follow after Jatha and his men who had continued to the base of the stairway and were wading through a square of grass, their walk becoming a run as they approached the river and a set of crossing stones.
Calls of welcome from human mouths echoed across the Broodland and from a dozen small stone-and-thatch dwellings set in a hamlet close to the river came more of the Vestare. Children squealed with delight, men and women came together in embraces, splashing through the shallows to welcome home those who had been gone from sanctuary so long.
Laughter floated across the air but with it the sounds of crying and sorrow as those whose men had not survived learned of their loss. The mood broke quickly and solemnity returned. All faces turned towards The Raven as they, Styliann and the Protectors strode towards the river, crossing the same stones Jatha had danced across so recently.
‘Raven, welcome,’ he said. ‘Hirad, home.’
‘Home,’ agreed Hirad. He pointed towards Wingspread. ‘Sha-Kaan? ’
Jatha shook his head. ‘Wait,’ he said. His face cracked into a smile. ‘Eat? Drink.’ He clapped his hands and some of the Vestare scampered away, disappearing into their houses. He sat on some close-cropped grass and motioned his guests to do the same. Fruit and strips of meat were brought out on platters by some, while others brought pitchers of water and juice and carved wooden cups out of which to drink. From somewhere nearby, music from a set of pipes drifted across the air.
The scene and the atmosphere were idyllic but Hirad couldn’t forget why they were here. A handful of dragons sat on the ground outside, massive hulking bodies resting part in the river or on the flat rock, heads sweeping lazily to grab Flamegrass or the carcasses their Vestare brought them. They all ignored the arrival of the strangers completely. Most, he presumed, were flying around the rip, injured in melde-corridors or cavorting in the skies overhead. Sha-Kaan, he was sure, was inside Wingspread and he thought it curious the Great Kaan had not come out to greet them. But, as always, he would have his reasons.
‘Hirad,’ said Ilkar. ‘Before you speak to Sha-Kaan—’
‘Yes, our chances,’ agreed Hirad.
‘Or lack of them,’ said Ilkar. ‘And don’t bridle like that, I’m only being realistic. You need to know exactly how far we’ve got.’
Hirad tore at a piece of meat with his teeth, washing the food down with the pale green, sweet fruit juice.
‘You aren’t going to tell me anything good, are you?’
‘It’s not quite that bad,’ said Ilkar. ‘It’s just there are so many unknowables and guesses we’re having to make. But let me start at the beginning. Unknown, you ought to listen to this.’
‘I am,’ came the reply. ‘Thraun?’ The shapechanger moved closer to Ilkar. He had a cup in his hand but hadn’t taken any food.
‘The theory is relatively simple but, without definite parameters, the power of any spell we cast is going to be a guess. Educated, but a guess. What we have to do, and the four of us are strong enough to do it from beneath the rip, is form a mana lattice that binds with the edges of the rip. This is all based on Septern’s spells designed to border rips and contain them.’
‘So you’re going to effectively border this rip,’ said The Unknown.
‘Absolutely,’ said Ilkar. ‘And then we have to draw it closed. Now that would be reasonably easy if we only had one end to contend with but we don’t; we have a corridor and another end all of the same massive size. You all right with this so far, Hirad?’
‘Anything I don’t get I’ll ask The Unknown to explain when you’ve gone,’ he said.
‘Gone where?’ asked Ilkar.
‘Gone where you can’t hear me complaining how complicated you make things,’ said Hirad, smiling as Ilkar’s ears pricked.
‘Fine,’ said the elf mage. ‘Now, returning to reality for a moment, we’re sure that Septern must have opened and closed dimensional corridors and there is theory that discusses the weave, if you like, that is required to close a hole in interdimensional space. What we believe we have to do is set up what is best described as a mana shuttle which, anchored at this end of the rip by the border we create, flies down the corridor, looping through its sides to come out the other end and effectively pull the sides together, closing the rip and corridor on both sides.’
‘Can that be done?’ The Unknown took fruit from a platter offered to him and smiled his thanks at the woman serving. ‘I have to say, Ilkar, it sounds very far-fetched.’
Ilkar sighed. ‘It is. Look, we don’t know if we can do it, yet. The lore theory is there in Septern’s texts, Styliann and Denser are trying to link it to some Xeteskian dimensional theory and we do have a spell that will close a gateway.’
‘But it’s the shuttle bit, isn’t it?’ said Hirad.
‘Yes,’ said Ilkar. ‘It’s certainly an extension of the mana lattice we’ll make to contain the rip on this side but at the moment we’re guessing and that’s very dangerous.’
‘I don’t want to worry you but we don’t have the time for you to do anything else,’ said Hirad. ‘We have to cast this thing in the next day or so or it’ll be too late for the Kaan and you know what that means for Balaia.’
‘I am aware, Hirad, but we did always say it would be difficult.’ Ilkar’s eyes narrowed a little and his ears reddened. ‘Developing new spells isn’t easy, you know.’
The Unknown held up his hands for calm. ‘And bickering isn’t going to help. Now, am I missing something or can’t you cast the lattice that borders the rip this side, pull it closed, if that isn’t too simplistic, and then go back to Balaia and do the same in Parve?’
Ilkar raised his eyebrows and smiled. ‘Lovely idea but we had to discount it. Even assuming we’d make it back to Parve from the Manse, it wouldn’t work. The power in interdimensional space is too great and you have to remember that the corridor would still be there, just with no second opening. We have to close the corridor too and the lattice is inherently unstable and wouldn’t survive to give us the time to reach Parve. That’s why we had to come here. We have to close the rip against the flow of the way it was made.’