He reached forward with his neck and grabbed a bale of Flamegrass, tossing it around in his great jaws as he chewed and swallowed.

‘So be it,’ he said. ‘So be it.’ He stretched full length across the warm wet floor of Wingspread and opened his mind to search for his new Dragonene.

It was an hour after noon on a day that had chilled as the sun fled west over the Blackthorne Mountains and cloud bubbled up on the prevailing south-easterly wind. In their sheltered space, The Raven had slept, enjoying the gentle warmth of the stove. The Unknown had watched without break while even Thraun slept, his flank a pillow for the anxious Will’s head.

Shortly after midday, Erienne had conducted a Communion, making contact with the refugee mage in the hills to the north of Julatsa. The spell had been relatively short and, as Erienne opened her eyes, Ilkar could see that she didn’t know whether to smile or frown. It was a while before she could meet Ilkar’s eye.

‘Are you stable?’ asked Ilkar. Communion, or rather the breaking of it, left channelled mana suddenly without focus but lying still in the mind. Its return to a more normal randomised state sometimes disoriented both caster and contact.

Erienne nodded and gave Denser a little smile. He smoothed some hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ear. Her smile broadened at the small show of affection.

‘The College is still standing. The Heart is still intact,’ she said and paused. ‘I’m not sure which order to say this in.’

‘Does the mage know how many Wesmen are in and around Julatsa?’ asked The Unknown.

‘Yes,’ said Erienne, glad for direction. ‘She, that is Pheone, says that somewhere around ten thousand Wesmen are occupying Julatsa and erecting a stockade to defend it. They have reinforced since the initial victory and further tented areas to the west hold about five thousand. They haven’t yet moved south-east towards Dordover.’

‘And what about those who escaped into the hills?’ The Unknown ladled himself a mug of coffee.

‘They’ve been ignored so far, Pheone thinks, because the College is still resisting.’

Ilkar felt at once proud and devastated. His city, occupied by invaders; his people, those who escaped, forced to scavenge in the hills. But his College somehow stood against the tide.

‘There’s more,’ said Erienne. ‘There are knots of Julatsans all around the city, hiding in the hills and woodlands. She doesn’t know how many though a group to the south-east intercepted the Dordovan force that Darrick mentioned, over three thousand foot and cavalry, and stopped their scouts running into the Wesmen lines.’

‘So, there is a military leader out there,’ said The Unknown. ‘Did Pheone say anything about an organised attack being planned?’

‘I’m surprised there hasn’t already been an assault,’ said Hirad. ‘Surely they can talk to the mages left inside the College and set up something.’

‘No, because no one can talk to the College,’ replied Erienne. ‘Besides, it’s tough to co-ordinate disparate groups all around the city. Communion isn’t that easy.’

‘Well, why can’t anyone Commune with Julatsa?’ Ilkar’s heart raced. ‘Is she sure the Wesmen haven’t taken it.’

‘Yes, she’s certain, because they have magical protection which blocks Communion.’ She drew in breath deeply. ‘Ilkar, they’ve erected a DemonShroud.’

‘A what?’ asked Hirad.

‘Gods in the sky, have they really?’ said Ilkar, eyes widening in surprise. And now he’d been told, the solution was obvious as the only one that could keep at bay an army of fifteen thousand, no matter how great their fear of magic. But with the knowledge that the Wesmen could not hope to enter the College while the Shroud remained, came the connected problem. Ilkar quickly outlined the workings of the Shroud before giving voice to the issue of which both Erienne and Denser were already aware.

‘So how in all the hells do we get in?’ demanded Hirad.

‘We don’t, not until the Shroud is dropped,’ replied Ilkar.

‘I’d worked that bit out,’ said Hirad, tapping his head. ‘It isn’t hot like yours but it does go round. I mean, when and if the Shroud is dropped, how do we beat ten thousand Wesmen into the Library?’

‘We don’t,’ said The Unknown. ‘We have to get them away from the College before that happens. I know that sounds ridiculous but we’ve got ourselves, God knows how many Julatsans aching for revenge and three thousand professional soldiers, and the Wesmen don’t even seem to realise it. There’s time enough because the Shade isn’t growing that fast and I think we could make something work for us.’

‘Really? What exactly?’ Denser wasn’t alone in his scepticism. But The Unknown didn’t have time to explain. The Dark Mage grunted and shook his head. ‘Communion,’ he said, frowning. ‘It’s Delyr, I think.’ He lay down and closed his eyes to accept the contact from Parve.

It was a contact that would change everything.

Chapter 17

The Council Chamber was bleak and cold. Outside the College, an eerie silence had fallen. Two men lay dead, dozens would have wounds and Kard had placed instant curfew on the courtyard and grounds. Every non-essential person, was confined inside and the guard on certain doors - two of the Long Rooms in particular - was heavy.

A cordon, eighty strong, secured the base of the Tower and for the first time the remaining guard on the walls looked inward, not out.

Barras, his heart heavy, anticipated, as they all did, the battle that would ensue inside the walls if they kept up the Shroud. He didn’t like it and, despite the knowledge of the College’s demise, could see the fight couldn’t be allowed to happen.

‘Why won’t they understand?’ Endorr was frustrated.

‘Where’s your family, Endorr?’ countered Cordolan, his usual jovial face a distant memory.

‘You know I have no family.’

‘Then you can never understand why they don’t understand.’ Cordolan steepled his hands.

‘Why?’

‘Because your family are not dying while you live unmarked inside these walls. The people you love the best are not in the game of chance for sacrifice. Your greatest terrors for your brothers, sisters and parents are not unfolding before your eyes.’

‘The point, Endorr, is this,’ said Barras. ‘We can no longer presume to uphold the College in the face of so much slaughter. I believed, as no doubt did you, that the College and Julatsan magic were more important than life. They are not. I also didn’t believe Senedai would carry out his threat or would stop after one show of bravado. I was wrong.

‘I saw the faces of those who died today and the anger of those who confronted us. Unless you are blind, you must see we cannot let this slaughter continue.’

‘That is a considerable change of opinion,’ said Seldane. ‘Not that long ago, we sat here with General Kard and agreed that nothing, not even life, was as important as maintaining the College.’

‘Yes, and pious, grossly insensitive and morally indefensible it was too,’ said Barras.

‘We cannot suffer the College to fall,’ said Torvis. ‘We cannot see Julatsan magic die. The imbalance in power will destabilise the whole of Balaia.’

‘We can bury the Heart,’ said Kerela. ‘Our life will always beat.’

‘Why bother? If we lose the Mana Bowl, The Tower and the Library, we are so much lessened. What does the Heart do but give us a spiritual centre for our magic? It is our books, our architecture and our places of deepest solemnity that make us Julatsan mages. Vital though it is, the Heart is just one of them.’ Seldane shook her head.

‘If we do nothing, there will be battle inside these walls and I will not have Julatsans spill one another’s blood in my College.’ Kerela’s eyes held an uncompromising power, just as her tears had told of the depth of her pain.