He stood for a moment, knowing that all around the walls his men were primed and ready, having seen and, more than that, felt the Shroud disperse. Behind closed doors, his army, such as it was, waited for the order to attack and were receiving their final briefings. Elsewhere, the mages who would fly point and those who would cover the run back inside the walls from the ramparts were resting and practising the shapes that would release death over the Wesmen.

A commotion behind him in the Tower had him turn, then take two paces backwards in complete surprise. A huge warrior came striding towards him, bearing the body of another, much smaller, man in his arms. He was trailed very closely by what had to be a large wolf and, behind them, two of the Council hurried alongside soldiers carrying the limp body of Endorr. His jaw dropped and his hand strayed reflexively to the hilt of his sword.

‘We’re friends,’ said the warrior brusquely. ‘Now, which way to the infirmary? Quickly man, Will doesn’t have much time.’ Kard found himself pointing vaguely across the courtyard to the left. The warrior nodded and ran in the indicated direction, the wolf at his heels. Just behind them, the soldiers carried Endorr. Cordolan stopped briefly.

‘The Raven are here, Barras is a Dragonene, or so it seems and . . . well, go to the chambers, Kerela is talking to them, I think.’ He hurried after Endorr. Kard cast his gaze heavenwards and ran back inside, pausing only to speak to a Lieutenant.

‘You know the drill,’ he said. ‘The orders haven’t changed, just that things have moved very slightly in our favour. If the alarm sounds before I get back outside, take the tower and start the attack. Do you understand?’

‘Yes sir.’

Kard made for the chambers.

Hirad joined the impromptu meeting between Kerela and The Raven’s mages after acquainting Barras with Sha-Kaan. The Great Kaan was to return immediately to Wingspread, leaving the corridor open for Elu-Kaan to receive the aid he needed in the interdimensional streams under the watchful eye of Barras. He was introduced quickly to Kerela, Julatsa’s senior mage, and General Kard, the middle-aged soldier in charge of the College’s military defence. The Unknown would stay with Will and Thraun.

‘The Communion is even now under way inside the Heart.’ Kerela continued where she had paused as Hirad entered the room. ‘We have no idea who will hear us and how soon they can reach us. What we do know is, as the sky lightens, the likelihood increases that the Wesmen will see the DemonShroud is gone. Once the attack starts, we think we can hold out for two, maybe three days, but beyond that, the College will be lost.’

‘All right,’ said Ilkar, plainly finding the situation difficult to take on board despite the information he’d been receiving. ‘What odds do we have exactly?’

‘I don’t know exactly,’ said Kerela. ‘But a fighting level of between ten and fifteen to one is a good guess. Of course, we do have the walls and all the mages.’

‘It’s bad,’ said Erienne gently. ‘But it’s not our primary concern, is it, Ilkar?’ After what seemed an eternity, Ilkar shook his head.

‘Kerela, we have not come here to help in the salvation of Julatsa.’ He licked his upper lip before continuing. ‘There is a threat to Balaia far greater than the Wesmen and The Raven are charged with halting it before it consumes us all, the Wesmen included.’

Kerela was quiet for a while. Denser maintained a considered silence, choosing to light his pipe and confine his reactions to noddings or shakings of his head. For once, Hirad was glad of his reticence.

‘But Dawnthief. Didn’t that guarantee us victory?’ she asked, confusion dancing across her expression.

‘Over the Wytch Lords, yes,’ said Erienne. ‘However, the casting has led to a tearing of the fabric of our dimension and it’s a tear that is growing with every breath we draw. It links us to the dragons and eventually it will be too big for the Kaan to defend in their own space. Then we will have invasion by dragons.’

Kerela’s silence was longer this time. There was a curious symmetry with the dimensional damage they described and the sudden extraordinary strength of the demons’ fight to stop them dispersing the Shroud. She examined the faces of The Raven, searching for the lies and treachery that she already knew she would not find, and for the truth she knew she would find but did not want to believe.

‘What is it you’re looking for?’ she asked.

‘Septern’s texts,’ said Erienne almost before Kerela’s words were out. ‘Anything that will help us close a dimensional portal. A big one.’

Kerela nodded but spread her hands. ‘Of course, access is yours. I’m sure Barras will confirm your words when he has finished with whatever he has to do. I suggest you begin in the Heart once our Communion is complete. Barras moved a number of key texts there and many of Septern’s will be among them. But the Library contains better than a hundred of his works and associated researches. The duty mage will help you but it could be a long search.’

‘We have two days at most,’ said Ilkar, rising.

‘Meantime,’ said Hirad. ‘If you’ll allow, General Kard, you might benefit from talking to The Unknown Warrior and myself. If we’re to fight for you, we need a say in how the defence is conducted.’

Kard bridled. ‘I am well aware how to conduct a siege defence,’ he said.

‘But we are The Raven,’ said Hirad. ‘And we’ve been in more sieges than you could ever dream of. From both sides. Please, I insist.’

Kerela laid a hand on Kard’s arm and nodded. ‘Anything that might help us, we should use.’

Kard nodded. ‘Very well, though I doubt you’ll change the structure I have made.’

‘So do I. But if we can improve upon one segment, it will be worth our while. The Unknown is in the infirmary.’

Kard gestured at the door. ‘Come on. The Wesmen won’t wait long.’

The Unknown Warrior had lain Will on a bed in the mercifully empty infirmary, knowing that neither poultices nor any manner of compresses or infusions would help. The little man was far beyond conventional intervention.

Thraun sat up at the bedside, occasionally licking Will’s face reflexively but mostly just staring, his yellow eyes moist and large, his expression plainly desperate. The Unknown stroked him absently while Will was examined, following a précis of what had caused his condition.

The infirmary was a low stone and slate-roofed structure, the walls decked in bright tapestries and punctuated by windows. It held twenty well-spaced beds in two rows of ten, though The Unknown knew it would soon hold three or four times that many wounded and be wholly inadequate. At the far end of the single ward, with piles of spare bedding stacked to warm, a fire burned in a large grate, providing the calming sight of gentle flame, and heat for both patients and healing balms.

The Unknown truly felt for Will. He knew only too well the terror of the soul being snagged by the claws of demons. Dead or alive, it made no difference. The soul belonged in the body until it chose to travel beyond mortal confines.

Will’s soul was not gone but the demons had most certainly touched it. And the ice chill of a demon’s claw on the core of his being was the reason Will lay so deep in shock. It was a miracle his brain could tell his lungs to breathe. The Unknown was fairly sure the little man would die and, as the healer mage finished her attempted contact with Will’s buried consciousness, the blank look on her face told its own story.

‘Well?’ asked The Unknown. The mage turned to him, moving aside to let two of the town’s women assigned to the infirmary make Will comfortable. She was a tall woman, graceful, with long fingers and bobbed grey hair, her face wrinkled by age.