‘Like what?’
‘The lack of trade from Balaia. I don’t think you’ve thought why it’s happened. Despite the war, it was beginning to pick up before we left to come back here two years ago. But it stopped abruptly. Merchants who travelled north didn’t return. Elven vessels have reported seeing lights in the sky and felt a sense of wrong that no sailor will ignore. Ship’s mages think they have felt the edges of Communion, but faint and desperate. That’s why they won’t land.’
‘Don’t expect me to cry if they’ve managed to destroy Balaia. We did what we could. Everything they suffer they have brought on themselves.’
‘The Al-Arynaar who stayed to help Julatsa have not returned. We sent others north a year ago to find out why and they are gone too but we can’t sense any of them among Shorth’s children.’
‘Who?’
‘Shorth’s children is the name we give to the dead. He looks over them.’
‘I thought he was a figure of fear,’ said Hirad.
‘Only to those who are our enemies,’ said Kild’aar. ‘A god of the dead is not necessarily vengeful on his own people. Ours is benevolent to those who serve our people well in life.’
‘I’m sorry for those you may have lost in Julatsa,’ said Hirad. ‘But it sounds to me like the college has fallen. Either to Dordover or Xetesk, it makes little difference.’
But both Rebraal and Kild’aar were shaking their heads.
‘Something else you’re not telling me?’
The two elves exchanged glances. Rebraal motioned the elder to speak.
‘In our mythology there is the belief that the dead face an enemy from whom they were sheltered in life. That death is a constant battle to achieve peace and sanctity of the soul. It is a belief shared with those on your continent Rebraal tells me, you call the Wesmen.’
‘I wouldn’t put yourselves in the same arena as them. Hardly worthy,’ said Hirad.
‘Do not scoff at what you do not understand,’ said Kild’aar sharply. ‘They have a link to Shorth’s children, this is certain.’
‘Oh, come off it. That’s all just primitive beliefs.’
‘At least they have beliefs!’ snapped Kild’aar. ‘That is the problem with humans. You have denied the teachings of generations and lost your religion and now it is coming back to haunt you. But like with everything you people do, you don’t think. And once again, you bring us trouble. This time to our dead.’
‘Gods burning, Kild’aar, calm down,’ said Hirad. ‘You’re blaming me for things I have no control over. Just tell me how I can help, that’s all I need to know.’
‘You need to know what all this is based on,’ said Kild’aar.
‘No I don’t,’ said Hirad. ‘Learning and me never went well together. Ilkar would tell you just to point me at the problem and tell me how to deal with it.’
Rebraal chuckled. ‘He’s right of course. But so is Kild’aar, Hirad. Look, this is what you need to know. You understand dimensions, you know the dragons have one and we have one. So do the dead, that is our belief, or else where do they go? No, don’t answer that. I’m not suggesting we could ever go there, it is hidden. But there are creatures who travel space and feed off the very thing that all creatures alive and dead hold. Life force, soul, call it whatever you want. Such is our belief.’
‘You’re talking about the demons,’ whispered Hirad, a chill stealing across him.
‘If that is what you call them,’ said Kild’aar.
‘We need Denser and Erienne,’ said Hirad. ‘They would know what to do.’
‘I think we will need the whole of The Raven. I have already taken the liberty of calling Thraun from the ClawBound patrols and messengers have been sent to Ysundeneth to find Darrick,’ said Rebraal. ‘I’m sorry, Hirad, but for such as yourself, there doesn’t seem to be any peace. Not for ever.’
Hirad shrugged. ‘But can even we do anything? I don’t understand, how can we help Ilkar?’
‘We aren’t sure,’ said Kild’aar. ‘And it will involve all of us. Humans, Wesmen and elves. But there is something about The Raven that burns brighter than life. Together, you can achieve that which as individuals you cannot. That none of us can. I can’t explain it. But Rebraal and Auum have seen it and all who meet you can feel it. If we are right the task is immense, perhaps impossible, but we must attempt it.’
‘You aren’t telling me anything I don’t know already. What I don’t know is what The Raven can do. Besides killing ourselves and standing by Ilkar, that is. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll travel to Herendeneth with Thraun and Darrick if they want to go. The Raven will talk and we will decide. That’s our way.’
‘It is all we ask,’ said Kild’aar.
Hirad nodded. ‘You know, I’ve understood almost nothing of what you have said and I’m finding it hard to believe the rest. But I do know what I dreamed and if you say that means Ilkar is in trouble somehow, I will not rest until he is saved, whatever it takes. But first, I’m going to return to my bed, talk to Sha-Kaan. Perhaps he can explain it to me.’
‘The dragons would be a useful ally,’ said Rebraal.
‘They call the demons “Arakhe”, you know,’ said Hirad, getting up and placing his mug on the table between them. ‘What do you call them?’
‘ “Cursyrd”,’ said Kild’aar. ‘The robbers of life.’
‘We should start first thing in the morning. Will Thraun be here?’
‘Yes,’ said Rebraal. ‘Hirad. Thank you.’
‘I’m not doing this for any of us. Not for Balaia or Calaius. I’m doing it for Ilkar because he is Raven and he needs us.’ He laughed, surprising even himself. ‘You know it’s incredible. What is it about that elf? Even dead, he can’t keep out of bloody trouble.’
Chapter 9
Thraun had heard the ClawBound communication and knew it concerned him. He had spent the last days running as a panther’s shadow while she worked. Her partner had welcomed the wolf and together they had shown him so much of the ways of the forest and he had learned to love it again.
Two years and the only other man he had seen in that time had been Hirad. He missed the barbarian sometimes but in the rainforest, away from all the prejudices of man and the memories of the pack, he had learned to understand himself just as he slowly understood the ways of the ClawBound.
Nothing was quite as alive as the Calaian rainforest. Its sights, smells, joys and dangers. He had thrilled to hunt as a wolf and delighted in tracking as a man. He spoke the language of the panther, knew the signs of the ClawBound elves and spoke easily with Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen. He had never felt more at peace with himself in either form.
He knew why he had been accepted so easily where Hirad, for all his strengths, had struggled for three seasons at least. It was because he was not pure human and because he was looking for a new way to live and had an innate understanding of the ways of the forest. Hirad tried hard, but in the end he would always be making the best of what he had and yearning for the life he did not.
Still, Hirad had become an accomplished hunter and tracker and the elves respected him.
The communication had the overtones of sorrow laid on it because there were some of Tual’s creatures who would be leaving the rainforest and none knew when they would return. He could not grasp the nuances but he was undoubtedly one of the subjects.
There had just been a prolonged downpour and the forest at night smelled fresh, clean and vibrant. Thraun stood and brushed water from his clothes. The panther lay beside him, her head resting on her front paws, her eyes fixed on him. The ClawBound elf was crouched a little further distant, but at the sound of the communication he had taken up the calls and had walked back to stand by his partner.