‘You have all seen the five doors we passed on our left. These are the archive chambers of which Denser spoke. If the Aryn Hiil is here, it will be in one of those. You have all seen the light from beneath two of the doors. Split by Tai cell, one mage to each. Remember Denser’s warnings and let Tual’s hands guide yours. We move.’

Auum led his Tai back into the library, heading past tables and around bookshelves to the row of five doors that led into the secure archive chambers. He stood back to let the mage move to the door. She stood directly in front of it and tuned to the mana spectrum. Beside Auum, Duele held his bow, and Evunn, two short swords.

Two doors along, Marack was ready. Auum nodded. The mages got to work.

Nyam’s curiosity was undimmed. And he had no doubt the Al-Drechar were shielding a One mage despite their obstructive comments. Ever since their arrival, they had been kept from the most private rooms in the old house. The few remaining elves from the Guild of Drech were most insistent that their mistresses be afforded quiet and rest much of the time, so limiting the Xeteskian interrogation and, importantly, observation.

It was also clear that they were friendly enough with Diera who in turn had the ear of Sha-Kaan. And the dragon, weakened and without fire though he was, had let it be known that he didn’t see the roof and walls of the house as a barrier to killing those who stepped out of line.

There came a time, however, when a mage had to make his move. Had to be noticed by the Circle Seven for initiative, ability, courage and loyalty. Gods drowning, on this small rock buried in the Southern Ocean that was difficult but Nyam had always been taught to grab opportunities, and he saw one now.

Let the others lick their wounds and remain scared of two old women and a dying dragon. He had listened to the messages passed via the Protectors through the Soul Tank. He knew the growing anxiety over the reality that the One still blossomed outside Herendeneth and not in Xeteskian control. He had heard the rumours of the identity of the practitioner; and in so many ways it all made sense though their research hadn’t revealed how The Raven mage, Erienne, might have developed the talent following her daughter’s death. Best guess was it arose coincidentally but the fact remained that there were two people on this island who knew the truth. Nyam had the chance for quick promotion sleeping not thirty yards from him. He wasn’t about to let his colleagues take it first. He had to gamble on the rumour being true and he had to do it now.

The night was humid and, as ever, still. Stars scattered the night sky delivering nothing in the way of light and the house itself had few lanterns burning. Nyam walked through the damp-smelling corridors to the wing where the Al-Drechar, Diera and Jonas slept. Two Guild elves stood guard at its entrance, barring his way.

‘I apologise for the unpleasantness of the hour but I have news concerning The Unknown Warrior that Diera must hear.’

‘She is sleeping,’ said one of the elves in heavily accented Balaian.

‘I know, and I would normally keep news until the morning but this she must hear now. He is in serious danger.’

‘You would worry her this much about things she cannot influence? ’

‘She has always said she would know everything,’ countered Nyam. ‘Please. Come with me to her. Ask her yourself before I even see her. At least give her the option.’

He knew they had no choice. He knew he looked innocent and sincere. One shrugged, the other nodded and the door was opened for him. He was accompanied the short distance down the corridor by the elf who had spoken to him, arriving at Diera’s door where he was told to wait. Further down the corridor, more Guild elves stood guard in front of the Al-Drechar’s private rooms. Shortly, the elf reappeared and beckoned him in. As they passed, the elf caught his arm.

‘Do not wake the child. Do not betray our trust,’ he said. ‘You are here but we do not want you here. Remember that.’

Nyam nodded and walked inside. Diera was sitting on the side of her bed, a light shawl draped over her shoulders and covering the top of her nightdress. One hand stroked her sleeping son’s head. A lamp, wick turned low, was enough to reveal her anxious face and knotted hair. Gods but she was so alluring. A woman just woken. How sweet it would be if she were to beckon him to her.

Of course, she did not. She stared at him with a mixture of trepidation and contempt.

‘Tell me about my husband,’ she demanded. ‘And make it quick. I may need to talk to Sha-Kaan.’

‘Of course,’ said Nyam. ‘And I am truly sorry for the intrusion.’ She waved away his apology. ‘And I am sorry for worrying you but it is not your husband who is in danger. It is Erienne.’

He held his breath for her reaction. There was none barring a coldness across her face.

‘If my husband is not in danger, then neither is Erienne. I suggest you provide better reason for this unwelcome visit.’

Beside her, Jonas stirred. She stared at Nyam meaningfully.

‘The power the Al-Drechar help her contain,’ he said, all the time studying her face. ‘They are not strong enough any more. We can help. Xetesk wants the One to grow.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Diera, but there was no irritation in her voice and a flicker across her eyes gave her away.

‘You do,’ said Nyam gently. ‘I know you do.’

‘Go,’ said Diera. ‘I can’t help you.’ She pulled the shawl tighter around her.

Nyam leaned forward and grabbed her upper arms roughly. ‘Damn you, woman, you will help,’ he hissed, seeing her moment’s shock give way to fear. ‘We cannot afford to have her running around unprotected by us. If the Al-Drechar were to fail, Balaia would be devastated all over again. My reports are it is already starting. Why do you think I am waking you now? Whatever it is the Al-Drechar are doing right now, it isn’t enough. I must be allowed to see them, observe them, so we can lend our strength.’

‘Then why not talk to the Guild elves or the Al-Drechar themselves if you are so genuine?’ she asked.

‘Because without you with me, they won’t believe me. They will deny everything fearing what we will do. But all we want to do is help Erienne live.’

‘Let go of my arms.’

He did so. ‘I am sorry. Please Diera, for all our sakes?’

‘You must think me very stupid, deaf or both,’ she said, meeting his gaze. ‘Do you think I talk to no one? Do you think I know nothing of Xetesk’s desires? I am not the dim wife and mother you clearly think me to be. I am the wife of The Unknown Warrior. And you are in more trouble than you can possibly imagine.’

Nyam knew that already. A sense of calm had descended on him. He shrugged.

‘The time for such fears is past. Xetesk has a war to win. Control of Erienne will bring us that victory.’

‘She’s just one Dordovan mage.’

Nyam smiled. ‘Diera, I do respect you and your strength. Sol could not have chosen better. But respect me too. Erienne is very much more than just one Dordovan. Deny it all you like but we will prove it. Now, are we going to visit the Al-Drechar together?’

‘Why should I move? All I have to do is shout.’

‘Diera.’ Nyam’s lips thinned with his patience. ‘My actions might bring about my death, I’m not sure. One thing I am sure of is that if you don’t help me now, they will certainly bring about yours.’ He reached a hand down to Jonas. ‘Such a lovely boy. He needs his mother. Don’t you think?’

Gylac knew he was close to the breakthrough. It could see him to the Circle Seven on Ranyl’s death. The prospect excited him more than it should but he couldn’t help it. He’d begun to notice the links in the elven texts two days before. Amongst the partially translated passages and the tracts of so far indecipherable script, there was a pattern emerging.