Let’s try it, then.
Remember, Erienne, what you are using your body to do. You have to be aware of every part of it. Feel it with your mind. Force the One to distribute through you.
I don’t like being a plug.
If this works, Erienne, believe me, you will be a great deal more than that.
And if it doesn’t?
I hope The Raven can run fast enough.
I wish you could hold my hand through this.
Ah, Erienne, to hold you close through your torment is all I desire but I’m afraid that chance is gone now. Keep this in mind. Do what I ask successfully and physical contact will be returned to you.
So, this is goodbye, is it?
We’ll see, child, we’ll see.
Thank you.
No, you are the one who we all should thank. You are the one who can save everything we hold dear.
Why?
You will survive this and you will see. One day soon, I think.
You can’t tantalise me like that! Erienne felt indignation growing in her.
It’s all I can clearly see. But use it to help your determination. Erienne, this will hurt you. The One will fight you and those dearest to you will have to understand. It is a power you cannot fight with your mind alone, not yet, and that is why you need the substance of your whole body. It is a skill we have all learned. For you it will be difficult as you will be alone. Remember, you are a One mage with everything that is you.
I think I understand.
Good. Then let us begin.
Erienne felt Cleress leave direct contact. She withdrew into her subconscious, and looked within herself, seeing the One entity there, menacing, determined to break her will. And she saw it buckle suddenly and withdraw, become smaller somehow, as Cleress drove it back with everything that she had left.
It was now or never. Dragging every iota of her belief to her, she broke from her subconscious, feeling the pain through her body as she reached out once again to the body she had abandoned. She felt herself judder, saw the One react and fight back, trying to expand itself to crush her back into the small space she had occupied and where it could bring maximum force. So hard to believe it wasn’t sentient but a power reacting automatically to her mind and body. Better she kept the thought of its sentience alive; it gave her more to focus on.
With the One still shrouded in Cleress’s essence, she fought her way back to her conscious state. It was like swimming up from a great depth, her breath locked into her lungs and bursting to get out. She could not fail, had to reach the surface. Sensation returned to her fingers and toes. She could feel the air on her face and hear, indistinctly, the sounds of voices. Still locked inside herself, she battered at the One, pushing it further back, feeling Cleress with her for one fleeting moment.
And then she was gone and the One spread to envelop her once again. This time, though, she was ready, and though it wrenched at her muscle and thought, she swam upwards still, defying the power that sought to drag her back down. She saw the body of the spider flatten and spread, the legs try to grip her consciousness as it expanded to every extremity.
It was too slow. She felt herself judder again, felt a tingling across her skin and the feel of her clothes. The surface of her mind was so near. The noise of life assaulted her ears, she could smell horse and grass and . . . and Denser.
Gasping in a lungful of air, she opened her eyes.
The joy that flooded through Denser weakened him and he almost fell on top of her, just managing to lock his elbows again. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, her tongue seeking his. Almost at once, she let go and lay back down, looking at him.
‘You’re back, love, you’ve beaten it.’ She did not reflect his smile.
‘No, Denser,’ she said and she sighed as if in pain. ‘Remember I love you. Remember I love all of you. Whatever happens now.’
‘I don’t understand? You’re awake, you’ve won.’
‘It is in me now,’ she replied. ‘It touches everywhere. Please don’t think badly of me.’
‘Why would I ever—?’
He saw something pass across her eyes, like a black cloud across moonlight. And when she looked at him again, those eyes were so cold.
Chapter 35
Dystran had thought to ride with his small army to Julatsa but Ranyl had dissuaded him, despite the lure of glory. Another wise decision, given what he had heard from Chandyr via Communion report this morning. What would he do without him?
He had sat in Ranyl’s rooms for much of the day, talking to his dying friend, acutely aware of the brevity of the time they had left together. The old master had reacted badly to the attack on Xetesk and the intrusion into his chambers, shock settling on him, weighing him down.
‘I could not have fought back,’ he said for the tenth time that day. ‘I was powerless.’
Ranyl was sitting in his favourite chair by the fire which roared out heat despite the warmth of the day beyond his open balcony doors. His hands wrung together, his face was damp with sweat, and the agony of his cancer was evident in every breath he drew. His skin had taken on a yellow pallor and his body had a distinct tremor to it. He had refused food all day.
‘They meant you no harm,’ said Dystran gently. ‘It was me who failed you. I am sorry.’
‘I was in my own chambers and they just walked in,’ he said.
Dystran could see the fear in those bright, wise eyes and was reminded that great mage though he was, Ranyl was first and foremost an old, tired man facing death and scared at the prospect.
‘I have news for you,’ said Dystran, determining to take his mind off it.
It was news he had known since before dawn but had not revealed while Ranyl struggled with his pain as he always did for half of the day. At such times, it was best to talk memories but today, his mind had been preoccupied.
‘Oh yes?’ Ranyl perked up and Dystran wondered if he had made a mistake in delaying.
‘As you know, we put scouts into the field last night,’ he said. ‘It seems the damage we inflicted was worse than we hoped. The southern and western camps have been abandoned. They are moving north but of course almost a day behind us.’
‘It was an obvious move in some respects,’ said Ranyl, straightening in his chair. ‘They have guessed rightly that we cannot afford to send men from here to harry them, we would leave ourselves too exposed. And they of course, can no longer attack us here. Are we assuming they are headed for Julatsa or are they actually going to return to Dordover and Lystern?’
‘That’s difficult to answer,’ replied Dystran. ‘They have over a hundred wounded with them, and I suspect they will be returned home. But the bulk of the force, something in the order of four hundred could well continue north.’
‘Interesting.’
‘What do you suggest we do to counter them?’
Ranyl was silent for a while, rubbing the top of his nose with an index finger. ‘I am no military tactician,’ he said eventually. ‘Chandyr is best placed to assess the threat. Surely if we keep scouts trailing them and him informed, that is our best option. Unless . . . When will we be able to cast dimensional magics of the same magnitude again?’
Dystran raised his eyebrows. ‘In two days, I am told. And this time the window is much longer, perhaps a whole day before alignment becomes unhelpful again.’
Ranyl nodded. ‘Well, it’s an option. Chandyr may have other ideas but should we not consider getting a team of mages into the field and behind the enemy now? Not let the distance get too great. They can rest on the trail enough to be able to cast. I must say, it worries me that the elves will reach Julatsa before Chandyr has taken the college. Three hundred is a significant number in this game.’