'So how does it sustain itself?' The Unknown had come to the rail and was leaning out, his shaven head tanning deep brown.

'Trade with Balaia is important,' said Ren. 'But the real money's made trading around the coast. So much of the inland is impassable to boats of any real size that it's quicker to go around. But this is the biggest port by far. None of the others are even half this size.'

'There have got to be well over a hundred thousand elves living here, haven't there?' said The Unknown.

'More,' said Ren.

'I'm amazed there are that many on the entire continent,' said Denser. 'Given the very few we see, that is.'

'Calaius is a very big continent, Denser, and you'd be surprised how many elves there are here,' said Ilkar. 'But as a race, we just like to keep ourselves to ourselves. No one's going to take you to their bosom when we land, I can tell you. And when I also tell you that the elves you'll meet in the ports are the most outgoing, well, I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions.'

'The place must burn a lot.' It was Hirad, standing just behind them. 'All that wood.'

Ilkar cupped a hand to his ear. 'Hark,' he said, a broad grin on his face. 'The lilting sounds of a barbarian making a daft comment.'

'Bugger off.'

'Does the term "rainforest" not give you any sort of clue?' asked Ilkar. 'I mean it doesn't rain quite so much here on the coast but inland, well, you'll experience it soon enough.'

Ren nudged Ilkar hard. 'Tell him the truth. All of it.'

Hirad's face hardened. Denser clapped his hands. 'Gods, I love listening to you two.'

'You could sell tickets to it,' muttered The Unknown.

Ilkar puffed out his cheeks. 'Fair enough, I was just taking a rise and am guilty as charged, although it does rain a lot.'

'So what is the truth?' growled Hirad.

'That all the buildings are coated with flame-retardant resin. We just use nature's own defences out here. Smells a bit if you're not used to it but it's good against lightning and fire.'

'Make a simple statement, I don't know…' Hirad let his voice trail off but Denser could see his heart wasn't in his anger. As it never was with Ilkar. It was one of the joys of travelling with The Raven. Those two could be pure theatre at times.

'So what's the plan?' asked Hirad.

'Simple, really,' said Ilkar. 'We're landing in about an hour, I think. We'll find a place to stay tonight and while you lot take a look at the sights, Ren and I'll hire a boat to take us upriver tomorrow. '

'And you're quite sure your village is the place to start looking for these mages of yours?' The Unknown was frowning.

'It's as good a place as any. We used to send a lot of adepts to Julatsa at one time and there'll be people there who are sympathetic and, more important, who will know where to look for more. Just hanging up a sign here won't get us far. But of course I have personal reasons for wanting to go there, I'm sure you'll understand. You don't have to come if you don't want to.'

'The Raven never work apart,' said Hirad.

Ilkar smiled. 'You won't regret it,' he said. 'It's beautiful.'

'And flame-resistant,' said The Unknown. The east gates of Xetesk opened and the massed ranks of refugees stood, their movement an expanding ripple across a human sea. Ten thousand and more with hope renewed that this time food and not soldiers would be disgorged.

From where Avesh stood on a patch of churned mud with everything he loved and everything he owned, he couldn't see the base of the gates. Couldn't see what or who came out, but he could rely on the mood of the crowd to give him the information he needed.

He pulled his wife and young son to him, their bony frames pressed against his, and stepped away from their pile of filthy blankets and scant possessions. How they hadn't died of cold, starvation or disease through the winter, having lost their farm to the storms, he would never know. But they had been spared and that was all he cared about.

The family all knew the drill. If it was food they would split up and run because if you were slow you got nothing. But if you were lucky, you got three shares. At first Avesh had been against that but he'd been forced to harden his heart as the death toll from illness and hunger rose daily. Rather them than his family.

And now, with spring coming to ease the chill and the first colours of new life pushing through the thawed earth, it looked like their persistence might actually pay off. Though they were all haggard and thin they were still alive. Today, Avesh was daring to believe they would live to rebuild their lives.

The noise built around them. Those with the strength made ready to run or swallow their disappointment. But something was different. Avesh caught it in the air just before he heard the shouts. A cry of surprise. Another of indignant outrage.

He watched for a few moments, feeling the unease whiplash through the throng. His first instinct had been to move forward but he held his ground, his heart querulous. He bit his lip and stood on tiptoe.

'Atyo, hop up on my shoulders. Let's look see.' The scrawny lad scrambled up. 'What can you see?'

'Soldiers,' he said. 'And riders. Lots.'

'Coming along the path?'

They'd seen this a dozen times but the mood of the crowd suggested something new.

'No, all over. Everyone's moving.'

And now Avesh could see it. The move forward had faltered, was already reversing. The noise of countless scared people was growing to a crescendo shot through with the harsh shouts of soldiers carrying on the breeze.

The boy climbed down and looked up into his father's eyes.

'What will we do?'

'Give me a moment, son,' said Avesh.

The crowd was rippling again. No, not a ripple, a wave heading outwards away from the gates.

'Gods falling,' he breathed. He gripped Atyo and Ellin, turning them both to him. 'They're trying to clear the camp, the bastards. If we get separated, we'll meet back at the crossing of the River Dord to the north. Can you both find that?'

'Why would we be separated?' asked Ellin.

He didn't have to answer her. The wave hit them instead. He grabbed them each by a hand.

'Come on, we've got to go.'

The press was thickening but Ellin hesitated.

'Our things.'

'Leave them. Come on.'

Avesh could feel the surge through the ground now. A drumming like a thousand hoof beats. But this stampede was human. He swung them both around, stumbling against somebody who rushed past. He caught the briefest glimpse of an ashen face before it was lost in the throng.

They began to run. There was only one direction. To try and cross the path of the crowd would be suicide. Avesh held them firm, taking care to move at the same pace as his boy, but when the youngster tripped anyway, Avesh scooped him into one arm and ran on, his wife right beside him.

He could see nothing but flailing limbs, hair streaming and the backs of countless desperate people driven to run though they barely had the strength. It was a chase that would exhaust itself quickly, and already the weakest were falling, their legs powerless to keep them upright, their spirits unable to take them a single pace further. And those that fell were left. There was nothing anyone could do, not even family, as the packed horde fled on, dragging the crying survivors with it.

Avesh ignored the ache in his wasted left arm muscles where he clutched Atyo and dared a look down at his wife. Ellin's face was determined as she ploughed on, transmitting her fear through the painfully tight grip on his hand.

Through the screams, the shouts and the thrumming of feet across the ground, Avesh could hear horses and the rhythmic heavy thud of men running in unison, closing fast. The crowd gathered sudden extra impetus. Worse, it split. Avesh pulled left, Ellin went right. Their hands slipped agonisingly apart. Avesh tried to change direction and reached out his hand. Their fingers brushed but that was all and he caught only a glimpse of her gaunt face and despairing hand as the crowd swept her away from him.