‘As you wish, Tanis-Veret.’ He unfurled his wings, barked a farewell and flew for the Kaan Broodland, his heart a little easier while his mind turned to battle.

Chapter 33

As evening gathered, the mist closed in and the pace of the Kaan Broodland, already sedate, slowed even further. No dragons remained outside, choosing Chouls, melde-corridors or private dwellings if they were of sufficient rank. The Raven sat outside near the river. They hadn’t been given any quarters and were clearly expected to sleep outside in the open. But the night was warm and humid and sleeping by the river would present no problem.

The real problem lay in the uncertainty of the mages and Hirad felt that keenly. He saw the anxious look in Ilkar’s eyes and the fidgeting of Denser’s lips as they worried at the stem of his unlit pipe.

On the one hand it was extraordinary, he thought, as he watched the four of them arguing and practising a short distance away, sitting on a flat rock near the river, books and papers held open and down by small stones and pebbles. Here, four of Balaia’s most talented mages, including the most powerful man in Xetesk, struggled with a problem for which they had practically all the information.

And on the other, it was no surprise at all. They were being asked to close a hole in the sky, the size of a city, hundreds of feet above their heads. Hirad could only guess at the skill that must take. Again, he felt helpless. He knew his role as warrior meant they got here at all, but now, with the most important work still to be done, he was sitting around drinking coffee.

Across the stove sat Thraun, silent and brooding, his long blond hair lank in the humidity, hanging in thick clotted strands around his head. The shapechanger had barely acknowledged his own existence since Will’s death, coming to life only when The Raven were threatened. But, like so much of The Raven of the recent past, the man he had been was gone.

‘Thraun?’ ventured Hirad. The young man lifted his gaze from the grass he’d been studying and looked squarely at Hirad. There was no strength in his eyes. No determination. Nothing but a brooding sorrow. Now he’d got Thraun’s attention, Hirad had little idea how to go on, knowing only that he had to get through somehow, that the silence could not be allowed to continue.

‘How are you feeling?’ Hirad cringed inwardly as he asked the lame question. Thraun ignored it.

‘Will would have loved this place,’ he said, his voice a low growl. ‘He was quite nervous, you know. Strange that, for such a talented thief. This place is so tranquil. It would have calmed him.’

‘Despite the large number of huge dragons flying about?’

Hirad was rewarded with the ghost of a smile on Thraun’s lips. ‘Despite that. Funny, isn’t it. Something as small as Denser’s Familiar scared him so badly while something as large as dragons hardly even ruffled his feathers.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Hirad. ‘There’s much good in dragons, or the Kaan anyway. Nothing too holy about the Familiar.’

‘I suppose.’ Thraun fell silent, resuming his study of the ground. ‘I can’t bear this,’ he said suddenly, catching Hirad off guard.

‘Bear what?’

‘Only he knows what it’s really like.’ Thraun indicated The Unknown who stood near the mages with the three surviving Protectors. ‘Having something in you that you hate and love in equal measure. Something that you wish didn’t afflict you but could not live without. Only his friends didn’t die while he was a Protector.’

‘Richmond did.’

‘But The Unknown wasn’t standing next to him, was he? You thought him dead. He had gone and Richmond couldn’t be saved.’

‘And neither could Will,’ said Hirad earnestly, leaning forwards. ‘Listen, when Sirendor Larn died, I felt the same. Like I let him down by not being stood by him at the moment of the attack. I had to accept quickly that there was nothing more I could have done. Yes, I had my revenge but you know something else? It doesn’t make the pain any less. You just have to go on as best you can. Enjoy the things you still have, don’t dredge up the things you don’t.’

Thraun looked at Hirad again, nodding gently, tears brimming his eyes. ‘I know you mean to help, Hirad. And I thank you for that. But Will was my only link to the human world when I was in wolf form. He was the only one I could trust to bring me back. The only one brave enough to stand up to me at my wildest. And I let him down. I hid inside my invulnerability because I was scared. It cost Will his life.

‘It’s something you can never really understand. He was my family and I loved him because he knew what I was and refused to judge me because of it. Now the only ones who won’t judge me, the only ones who are my family are the pack. When we get back to Balaia, I will find them.’

‘The Raven are your family now,’ said Hirad. ‘We’re strong and we care. Stay with us.’ Thraun’s words had shaken Hirad. He felt the shapechanger slipping away from him.

That ghost crossed Thraun’s lips again. ‘That is an offer and a commitment stronger than you know. But I don’t belong, not really. Not without Will.’ He gazed deep into Hirad’s eyes for a moment. ‘But I won’t let The Raven down.’

‘I know,’ said Hirad.

It was curious, the force that drew The Unknown to the Protectors. But he saw their loneliness, their anxiety at separation from their brothers. He knew how they felt. And so he stood with them, lending them his immediacy. There were no words at first but The Unknown could sense the same lack of focus he had observed earlier. But stronger now, verging on confusion. He broke the silence.

‘Cil, Ile, Rya. I am Sol. You knew me. You know me still. You are troubled.’

Cil inclined his masked head. ‘We cannot feel the brethren. Or the chain that binds us. Our souls are distant. We fear their loss.’

‘Is the chain broken?’ The Unknown was startled. To remove the DemonChain binding Protector to the Soul Tank would be to kill the body and lose the soul. But no Protector had ever travelled the dimensions and these Protectors were very much alive.

‘We cannot feel it,’ said Rya. ‘It is not there.’

‘But you can still feel your souls.’

‘Distantly,’ confirmed Cil.

‘Then . . .’ began The Unknown.

‘Are we not free?’ continued Cil. ‘We will only know by removing our masks. And if we are wrong, torment is eternal. And how can we truly be free when our souls are not within our bodies.’

‘Does Styliann know?’ asked The Unknown, wondering whether he was truly free himself. Yet his hope for his brothers rose even as he feared their reaction to permanent separation from the totality.

‘We are still his Given,’ said Cil. ‘We will not undermine his belief.’

‘I will support you in whatever you choose,’ said The Unknown.

Cil, Rya and Ile nodded, an exact movement.

‘We are one,’ they said. ‘It is ever so.’

Darrick had decided his course of action before the parley team had reached their camp at a gallop, the hooting abuse of the Wesmen loud in their ears. Shouting for his regimental commanders, he slid from his horse and strode into the command post, Blackthorne and Gresse on his heels, a little winded from the hard ride.

The General stood behind the map table and his senior ranks were arrayed in front of him awaiting his words. His orders were swift and sure. Never show weakness. Never hesitate. Ask for comment. Prepare to adjust but never change.

‘Tessaya will not yield, which we can’t say is too surprising though I was disappointed in a man of his apparent education and intelligence. He thinks he has us where he wants us. We cannot break through his lines to reach the Manse and we cannot beat his march to Korina. We will, of course, attempt neither.