Elfsorrow

Chapter 34

By the time The Raven left the Shorth Estuary and put to sea they were three full days behind the Xeteskians. The Calaian Sun would make up some of that time but, with the best will in the world, they would reach Balaia at least a day and a half adrift.

However, the enforced inactivity was not without its benefits and The Raven had time to rest, heal, train and talk. But any thoughts that the elves travelling with them would thaw in their attitude were consigned quickly to the desert of dreams.

True, they sparred with the Al-Arynaar on deck, but their opponents were reluctant and there only because Rebraal had told them to be. But the six ClawBound pairs and ten TaiGethen cells who had come tentatively aboard with the thirty-eight fully fit Al-Arynaar were not so much aloof as invisible. They exercised at night, ate in their bunks and refused The Raven's offers of discussions on tactics. Hirad was minded to let them stew and was insulted at their lack of gratitude. The Unknown, however, was more circumspect and ensured Rebraal was present early one morning when The Raven spoke about the days to come, knowing he would report back.

'We've got to do this right,' said The Unknown. 'From mooring to travelling, to negotiating, to-'

'Negotiating?' said Hirad, as if he'd just popped rotten fruit in his mouth.

'Yes, Hirad, negotiating,' repeated The Unknown. 'You may be happy taking on the considerable might of Xetesk but I'm certainly not.'

The Raven and Rebraal were in the Captain's room, sitting round a table covered with plates and goblets. A steaming jug of herb tea rested against the raised lip by Denser's right hand. Aeb was in a room forward, bathing his face and talking to his brothers in the Soul Tank.

'So, your plan is for us to walk up to the gates of Xetesk and ask for the thumb back.'

'In a nutshell, yes,' said The Unknown. 'You have an alternative?'

'Not necessarily, Unknown,' said Hirad, 'but I think you're being misty-eyed about Xetesk's motives for wanting all the stuff they stole. It's hardly going to be so they can enhance their relations with the elven nation, is it? They are at war and they want all the advantages they can get.'

'I understand that but I can't believe they knew what they'd be unleashing by taking the thumb. Surely they'll just hand it straight back. Even if they do want to dominate Balaia, there's no reason to exterminate the elven race.'

'But look what they did to get it,' said Ilkar. 'We have to ask the question, could they have known? And so was the theft deliberate?'

They all looked at Rebraal. Ilkar repeated the question in elvish and waited for the reply, his brother not yet confident enough to always express his thoughts in Balaian.

'He says it was impossible for a stranger to know the effects of desecrating the statue. Most elves don't, and that includes me. But then he'd also have said the same about the location of the temple. He and all the servants of Yniss think it a deliberate act designed to harm the elven race; they are just finding it hard to believe anyone would do such a thing to them.'

'We gathered that,' said Darrick. 'But that means Xetesk actually intends to destroy the elven nation, or at least deal it a catastrophic blow. I'm not sure I believe that.'

'I'd like not to,' said Denser. 'I really would. And Xetesk may not have known the effect the theft of the statue fragment would have. But I'm afraid that things are rather falling into place.' His voice was leaden and low. Hirad stared at him, feeling for his sense of betrayal.

'Would you care to expand on that?' asked Ilkar quietly.

'Whatever Xetesk wants to learn from the writings and the artefact won't be for anyone's benefit other than Xetesk. They'll be looking to gain an advantage over the elves, some knowledge of their inherent magical ability and make-up. Something like that.

'They're on Herendeneth too. I know we had to bring them there to have any chance of learning enough to release the Protectors and repatriate the Kaan but they have shown their true colours now. What we wanted was a by-product. What they want is access to their dimensional magic again. Don't forget, Dystran is a specialist in inter-dimensional theory.

'And, if all we hear is true, then Xetesk do want to rule magic on Balaia. Let's face it, they haven't offered any help to Julatsa, have they?'

Denser stopped for a moment, his frown deepening and his shoulders slumping even more.

'What I'm trying to say is that although they might not know what they've caused by their theft, I don't think Dystran will stand in the way of a plague wiping out the elves, should he discover that's what the theft has caused. After all, no elves, no Julatsa.'

Hirad saw Ilkar's jaw drop as he took it all in.

'And dimensional magics will make them almost unstoppable,' said Erienne.

'Particularly if they continue to neglect to free the Protectors,' added The Unknown.

'Still want to get the thumb by asking for it?' asked Hirad.

The Unknown shook his head. 'I really hadn't seen all these possibilities. Even if Denser's wrong, we can't afford to take the risk. No, this changes everything.'

'You really think Xetesk would willingly preside over racial genocide? ' asked Ilkar.

'Not Xetesk,' said Denser. 'Dystran. He's thirsty for power and wants to see Xetesk the dominant magical force, perhaps even the only magical force, no matter what he says to the contrary. And he won't even have to see or acknowledge the destruction his actions have caused. All he has to do is not listen to the truth. Something he finds very easy, believe me.'

The door to the Captain's room opened and Aeb walked in. Behind his mask his eyes sought Denser and The Unknown. He walked round the table to sit between them. Denser poured him a mug of tea.

'Thank you.' He sipped.

'What's up?' asked Hirad, seeing the tension in the Protector's shoulders.

'I am uneasy,' admitted Aeb. 'I need guidance.'

He looked square at Denser, who nodded. 'I understand you may have conflict in the Soul Tank. But remember you have done nothing bar protect me as you are directed and The Unknown Warrior as you desire. And while I remain your Given I will ensure you have all the latitude available to you.'

'I am humbled,' said Aeb.

'Don't be,' said Denser. 'We understand you, The Raven that is. We know something of the bond you share and the pain that you suffer every day.'

Aeb inclined his head and took another sip.

'My brothers know I travel with you. Soon they will know we fought Xeteskian forces on Calaius. They will not reveal what they don't have to, but at any time a mage might ask the question of my part in The Raven's actions.'

'Your unease is clear,' said Denser. 'We will have to keep you from direct conflict with Xeteskian forces on Balaia. But remember they cannot invoke punishment through the DemonChain unless the Act of Giving is rescinded from me. You are safe at the moment. We'll talk later.'

'All right,' said The Unknown. 'The central point to it all is this. We cannot risk Dystran finding out just how important the thumb is to the elves because if he is intent on damaging them, he'll simply keep it. Rebraal, you've got to impress that on your people. If they must fight, let it be for the writings. That means we have to get the piece back by some other means, the best bet being to capture this Yron that Denser recognised and hope he has the information that can help us.

'Bear in mind that once Yron reaches Balaia, or maybe before, he will be able to tell Xetesk that we are involved in some way and that will make us targets. Aeb is right to be concerned for himself and we will all have to tread very carefully. I suggest that we land near Blackthorne because at least we'll get a friendly reception there. I'd expect to know by then where Yron made landfall, although I believe we can assume he is heading for Xetesk via Arlen.

'The TaiGethen will help us by their actions whether they want to or not. Again, remember we're all on the same side here. Hirad, that means don't antagonise them, whatever the provocation. Anyone with any ideas, we'll talk again at dinner. We know what we're after, we know what the man we want to catch looks like and we know where he's going. That at least is good news. I-Erienne, are you all right?'

Hirad looked to Erienne, as did they all, and it was clear that she wasn't. Her face was sheet-white and she was rocking in her seat. Denser hastened to her side.

'What is it, love?' he said, as she half collapsed into his arms.

'I feel awful,' she mumbled.

'Your head?'

She nodded. 'Sorry to spoil the meeting.'

'Don't think about it,' said The Unknown. 'Denser, you know what to do.' The Xeteskian nodded and helped Erienne from the room. 'Look, I think we've done all we can here. Hirad, can you contact Sha-Kaan? I'm anxious for news. My family could become hostages in all this and I want to know if the Al-Drechar are still strong enough. Darrick, I want to ask you a few questions. Ren, Thraun, Aeb, hang on here. When we're done we need to go out on deck and work on our moves to get Ren into the line to fight. All right?'

Hirad nodded and stood up, catching Thraun's eye. He smiled. 'How much of that did you get, I wonder?' he asked.

'All,' said Thraun. 'Erienne has too much pain.'

It was a comment that took Hirad by surprise. 'What do you mean?'

'She must open to those she hates. It is hard.'

Hirad frowned. 'I don't-'

'It's to do with the One,' explained The Unknown. 'I think she's going to have to let the Al-Drechar help her now, and so does our quiet but very perceptive shapechanger.'

Thraun growled in his throat at the term, his eyes flashing brief anger. There was much of the wolf still left inside him.

'Sorry, Thraun, but it's what you are,' said The Unknown. 'I meant no offence.'

Thraun shook his head. 'I am Raven.'

'You got that right,' said Hirad.

It was the most Thraun had said at any one time, and as Hirad left the Captain's room to go to his cabin he felt hope that the lost man wasn't too far from home. Erienne lay down on the small cot with her head pounding like never before. It had come on so suddenly, though she'd been feeling rather elsewhere all day. She'd found it hard to concentrate, almost as if she'd drunk too much and was viewing events from a distance. And when, quite without warning, the pain had hit her like repeated and heavy blows to the back of her head, she'd struggled to remain conscious, too confused even to ask for help.

'This can't go on, love,' said Denser gently, his face near hers, hand stroking her thudding head, a cloth held to her nose, which had begun to bleed.

'But what if it's them causing the pain to make me need them?' she asked, fighting to think straight and glad of the gloom in the curtained cabin. She had her eyes closed and had managed to relax sufficiently to stop feeling nauseous.

'How else will you find out?' asked Denser. 'But you can't live with this pain. It was bad enough before.'

'I know,' said Erienne. 'But-'

'It's not like admitting defeat,' said Denser. 'Don't you think you've made your point?'

Erienne sighed. She knew he was right. But she hadn't won; rather just not lost by not acknowledging what she carried for so long. She'd repressed it so easily when all she could think of was her grief over Lyanna. But now that had eased slightly, now her mind was more open and her mood that bit more positive, it was as if the One was trying to assert itself.

'Will you stay with me? Help me?' she asked, opening her eyes and clutching his arm.

'Where else would I be but by your side?'

She felt a rush of love that swamped the pain for a moment. 'All right. If you think I should.'

'I do,' he said, still stroking her hair. 'But you must think so too.'

She nodded. It had to be now. The pain smashed around her head and she knew there was only one source of help. She closed her eyes again and spoke to them with her mind, hoping it would be enough.

Are you there? she asked, knowing her tone was unfriendly but with no desire for it to be otherwise. They should know from the outset that this was not forgiveness for what they had done but acceptance of what she carried. Myriell? Cleress? Are you there?

Erienne, we have been waiting. Always near but never within your mind. Cleress's voice was like honey over a sore throat. It is a joy to hear you.

It is not a joy to be speaking to you but I must, said Erienne.

We understand that you still harbour anger and hatred, said Myriell. But please believe us that we just want to help you accept what you hold in your mind before it destroys you. And destroy you it will.

Don't threaten me like that, said Erienne, the pounding in her head excruciating. I am not some child you can control with scare stories.

I am simply informing you of reality and nothing more, said Myriell. You are in pain, I take it?

I have never experienced anything like it, conceded Erienne. It has been with me for days but it is suddenly so intense I can barely see or stand. It had better not be inspired by you.

Oh, Erienne, how could you think that? We have never sought to cause you harm, admonished Cleress gently.

Erienne all but laughed as the bitterness showered through her. You killed my daughter. How much more harm do you think you can possibly do?

We so wanted Lyanna to live. But the One was killing her; I wish you would believe that.

And now I have the One whether I like it or not, don't I? said Erienne, fighting back the throbbing agony a little longer. You didn't feel the need to give me a choice. Your arrogance is that great.

Erienne, your daughter couldn't contain the power because Dordover awoke it too early, said Cleress. You, being her mother and a Dordovan, were the only host capable of keeping it alive. Of keeping that part of Lyanna alive. And there was a battle going on. We had no time to discuss this and anyway you would have refused.

There was no hint of guilt in Cleress's voice. No real regret. Just an assumption of necessity. Erienne knew she should have been enraged by them. But though she hated what they had done, at least she could feel that the One magic that resided in her mind had been nurtured and grown by Lyanna. Beautiful Lyanna. She felt tears on her face and Denser's soothing hand on her brow and across her hair. He said nothing.

You have to take the pain away, she said. You have to.

We can, but for that you must let us into your mind all the way and you must accept that one of us will be with you always to guide you, said Cleress. We will be silent unless you ask something of us or if we believe your mind to be at risk. But you must know that once the process is started it cannot be stopped.

I don't want any process to start. I just want the pain to go.

That is the beginning of the process, said Myriell.

So be it. But don't push me where I don't want to go. Don't presume to control me or anything about me or I will fight you. Do nothing without my express agreement.

Both Al-Drechar laughed. Erienne, we know you well enough not to presume anything ever again.

It is no laughing matter, snapped Erienne.

No, it isn't, said Myriell. Now, are you ready? Just relax your mind.

Begin, said Erienne.

And, with the most gentle of probing feelings, her pain vanished and she saw for the first time the well of power that was the One magic, hers to control if she had the strength. It was a force for good or evil far more comprehensive than any single college's magic. It drew on the energies of land, sky, mana and sea. Its scope was endless. With it at her beck and call, there was so much she could do. The ship had sailed in under cover of darkness, and before dawn much of the loading had been done. Sha-Kaan had woken to the sounds of Xeteskians preparing to leave on the next tide and he took to the air, anger surging within him, powering his tired wings.

Stay and rest, Nos-Kaan, he pulsed, as he swooped down on the house from which Sytkan, the lead Xeteskian mage, was emerging. I will call should I need you.

The mage knew he was coming. The boughs of nearby trees bent under the downdraught, dust and sand were whipped into the air and the noise of each beat of his wings drowned out any speech on the ground. To his credit the Xeteskian faced him squarely, having picked himself up and dusted himself down. Others of his order were not so calm, haring off down the path to the landing beach.

Sha-Kaan glowered down at Sytkan, choosing to sit up on his hind legs and angle his neck down, noting the ten Protectors who stood in a defensive circle around him.

'Was I to be privy to your decision to leave these shores or were you hoping we would sleep until your ship was out of sight?'

'Our work is done here, Sha-Kaan. Aside from the defence force we will leave to guard the Al-Drechar and their people, we must all return to Xetesk to validate our research.'

Sha-Kaan bent his neck further, moving his mouth close to Sytkan and sighting along his snout at the mage, whose eyes widened. Protectors drew weapons.

'Tell them to sheathe those things. They cannot harm me.'

Sytkan gestured and blades were lowered.

'What is it you want of me?' asked Sytkan, a superior and rather bored tone to his voice.

'Finish what you started,' said Sha-Kaan. 'You need go nowhere to validate your research. Indeed, I forbid it. You will free us to return to our own dimension before I free you to return to your petty squabbles on Balaia.'

'You are in no position to forbid anything, Great Kaan,' said Sytkan, clearly unaware of his own vulnerability. 'We are in charge here, and I suggest that if you do want to return to Beshara, you let us set the timetable. That means we leave to employ our research in a practical fashion before turning to lesser matters.'

Sha-Kaan almost swatted him then and there but refrained, Hirad's caution echoing in his mind.

'You tread delicate ground, frail human,' he said. 'The timetable as you call it states that we do not have the luxury of waiting on your whim. And, as you will discover if you choose otherwise, there are no greater matters than completing your work to send us home.'

'Don't threaten me, Sha-Kaan,' said Sytkan. 'We have foreseen your reaction and taken appropriate steps. Without your fire you are much weakened, as the Dordovans discovered. Don't think we will hesitate to defend ourselves. Together, we are very strong.'

'But individually, very weak,' said Sha-Kaan.

His head snapped forwards and he scooped Sytkan into his jaws, wings unfurling to project him into the sky and away from danger.

Nos-Kaan, take to the air. The Xeteskians have to be stopped.

In his jaws, Sytkan struggled. Sha-Kaan brought his head to a foreclaw and deposited the mage in it, bringing it in line with an eye.

'You have very little time,' growled Sha-Kaan. 'Remove your work from your ship before we sink it.'

'And lose everything for which we have worked and that could benefit you?' shouted Sytkan into the wind. 'It stays there. You don't dare touch it. Set me down.'

'You think me a foolish reptile, I am sure. Ignorant. But I hear much and am told more. I know the exactitude of a Xeteskian mage. All your papers are in watertight containers, are they not? And I am a very good swimmer.'

He watched Sytkan's fragile confidence disappear and proper fear replace it. But the mage was not done.

'Release me or Nos-Kaan dies now.'

Sha-Kaan swept round to face the hillside. Nos-Kaan was hovering, waiting for him. Below, hidden by the curve of the slope, a dozen mages. Nos hadn't seen them and they were casting.

Sha-Kaan bellowed in rage and arrowed down towards them, pulsing alarm at his Brood brother.

Fly! They are below you. Fly!

Nos-Kaan moved as the mages cast their spell. An orb of fire thirty feet across raced from their position, catching Nos-Kaan's left wing on the downbeat and rolling along its length to scour his back. Flame ate at his scales and burned the wing membrane. Nos roared pain and, smoke trailing from his savaged wing, spiralled into the sky, heading for the quenching ocean.

Sha-Kaan powered on, Sytkan forgotten in his claw. The Xeteskian mages could not react fast enough. The huge dragon landed just upslope and slid down on them, his great hind claws tearing up the ground as he came, his wings beating again, his weight shuddering the earth. His head launched forward, his fangs slicing through human flesh, jaws snapping open and shut to crush puny bodies. His claws scythed through torso and limb, dug up stones and dirt and flung them down.

With the next beat of his wings he took to the air again, banking sharply to check for any survivors. One was running, the rest either dead or dying. He powered in again and seized the running mage in his other foreclaw before chasing out to sea after Nos-Kaan.

The dragon's entry point was clear and the smell of burning scale and membrane hung in the air. Sha-Kaan put Sytkan to his eye once again, seeing the mage shaken but still just conscious.

'Weak am I? Pray to your false gods that Nos is still alive. Pray that your lungs can hold and your body does not break.'

With that he dived into the ocean, tucking his foreclaws in to protect the mages from the impact. He might have need of them. His eyes pierced the clear blue waters easily and he didn't have to swim deep before he saw Nos-Kaan struggling to the surface, his left wing dragging him back, his tail stroking weakly.

Nos-Kaan, I am here.

Sink the ship, Great Kaan. I will survive. But his thoughts were feeble. They must not escape.

They cannot outpace me. I will be back.

Sha-Kaan stormed back to the surface and broke into the air. In his claw Sytkan gasped a lungful of air. The other mage hung limp. Sha-Kaan discarded him. He flew towards the ship, which still lay at anchor, keeping high to avoid the spells. On deck he saw two groups of mages crouching together, spells no doubt on their lips.

'So anxious to get on board,' he said, Sytkan once again large in his vision. 'Let me help you.'

He threw the mage down, watching him cartwheel as he fell. The human prayed he hit the water. His Gods did not hear him. Sha-Kaan turned from the splayed mess far below on the deck and dived back after Nos-Kaan.

The wounded dragon was close to the surface now. Sha-Kaan swam under him and pushed him from below, moving him fast towards a nearby island with a beach on which he could rest. He could feel the pain through Nos-Kaan's mind. The dragon, who had never fully recovered from attack by Dordovan mages out in the Southern Ocean two seasons before, was dreadfully injured.

He heaved Nos-Kaan from the waves. The stricken Kaan laid his neck out on the sand, leaving his tortured burned body in the salty water.

Tell me, Nos. Your injuries, can they heal?

But he already knew the answer. Nos-Kaan's wing lay on the surface of the sea, outstretched, membrane ruined in so many places. And the scales along his back were puckered and oozing.

It has been a great adventure, Great Kaan. And I would have loved to rest back in our Brood lands, but it was ever a dream I feared I would never realise.

Then rest now, my brother. Rest now. You will be avenged.

But Nos-Kaan couldn't hear him.

Sha-Kaan rose up on his hind legs, beat his wings and bellowed grief, rage and torment. Birds took flight and lizards scattered on the beach. Back at anchor, the Xeteskian ship lay waiting. He decided not to keep them any longer.

But even as he rushed into the air to revenge himself upon them, a voice sounded in his mind. It spoke reason and sympathy and it took the edge from his rage. It told him that he must live. That the Brood Kaan would wane without him, that there were other places to fight the battle. It told him it loved him and that it would see the research into the hands that would help.

The voice was that of Hirad Coldheart, his Dragonene, and it surely saved his life.