Individually, though, he had his concerns about them. Besides himself, Hirad had remained very fit. His time with Auum and Rebraal had dictated that. But that couldn’t hide the fact that he was not a long way from forty years old and just not as fast as he used to be.

The Unknown Warrior’s problem wasn’t so much his forty-two years but the long-term degradation of his left hip following his hideous injury on the docks at Arlen over three years before. It stiffened quickly in the chill water and relay-running had him limping from early on. That and the inevitable softening gained from two years’ easy living on Herendeneth. It was the difference between farming fit and fighting fit and it could prove fatal.

Thraun looked and acted no different. Quiet, withdrawn at times and without an ounce of excess bodyweight. Life on Calaius had clearly suited him.

But Denser and Erienne worried him the most. Their contentment at being back where they truly belonged, in the bosom of The Raven, was undermined by their awareness of the situation. It wasn’t that they were unwilling; they would quickly become as fit and capable as ever if allowed the time. It was that he could see in their eyes that they simply weren’t ready. Not for the task ahead, not to put their lives at risk as a daily habit and not to accept the responsibility that had been thrust upon them.

And Erienne was clearly struggling to make sense of what she was required to do. It drew her attention away, took her edge.

Darrick knew he could rely utterly on the elves. And the Protectors still maintained their aura of confidence, inscrutable even without their masks. No, the problems all lay at the heart of the operation, with The Raven themselves.

He spoke to The Unknown Warrior every evening and the big man listened. He spoke candidly about his hip, but like all of The Raven was far more concerned about his friends than himself.

‘Everyone needs to understand the reality of their situation and limitations,’ Darrick had said one evening. ‘And that includes you just as it includes me.’

‘I’ll be all right.’

‘That’s exactly the problem, Unknown. Until you accept that you’re not twenty-one any more, you’ll be taking too much risk.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ said The Unknown Warrior.

‘Judging by what I see out there under exercise, no,’ replied Darrick. ‘Don’t get me wrong. We’re an extraordinary team. The weapon skills are still there, the belief is undimmed and the will is staggering. But it’s been two years since Julatsa and our stamina is not what it was. That’s why we struggled after the short fight the other day. We aren’t used to that exertion and it showed. The trouble is, you all still act like you fight every day. You don’t conserve because you’ve never had to.

‘You asked me to do this, Unknown. Now listen to what I’m saying. You’re the one who has to relate this to the rest of The Raven. And you-know-who isn’t going to like it.’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’

‘We haven’t got time for tact,’ said Darrick.

‘Hirad’s never thought so.’

‘Then he should respect what you tell him.’

‘You know, Darrick, that is no help whatsoever.’

The Calaian Sun dropped anchor in the quiet waters of Triverne Inlet on a chill but sunlit morning. All eyes scanned the eastern shore, searching for signs of demon activity. They found none, keen elven sight revealing only late spring growth in a peaceful landscape.

From the shore, Hirad watched the ship take sail and turn for the open sea once more. Jevin took vital messages home with him for the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar. Should The Raven fail and Balaia’s colleges fall to the demons, the elves would have to prepare for invasion.

Hirad turned to them, assembled on the sandy beach.

‘This is it, then,’ he said. ‘I still think we should be coming with you to Julatsa.’

Rebraal shook his head. ‘You know what was discussed. The cursyrd want you. You’ll endanger us all in there.’ He smiled. ‘Besides, we’re quicker without you. See you at the lake.’

‘Don’t be late.’ Hirad hugged Ilkar’s brother and clasped hands with each of the TaiGethen then finally, Eilaan. ‘Remember why we’re doing this.’

The elves ran away towards Julatsa and were soon lost to sight. Hirad felt exposed without them.

‘Come on, Raven,’ he said. ‘We can make the lake by tomorrow nightfall if we sail through the night.’

The Raven returned to the longboat which had been fitted with a single mast for their journey along the River Tri. With packs already stowed under the gunwales and benches, they were under way quickly. The atmosphere, as it had been outside Blackthorne, was oppressive. Only the sound of the breeze rustling reeds and grass came over the gentle burble of the water against the timbers of the hull. Balaia was dying meekly.

Despite being unlikely to encounter any demons in countryside bare of all but scattered farms and hamlets, they kept very quiet throughout the trip, resting as much as possible. Thraun in wolven form scouted ahead periodically, giving them extra security.

The Unknown took his time to watch The Raven during this curiously peaceful interlude. Despite his own concerns and those raised more recently by Darrick, he felt happier with the tightness he saw around him now. Two years apart had dulled them without question but their time aboard ship had rekindled their spirit of togetherness. But what they had to guard against was overconfidence in the fight. Looking across at Hirad, it was not a conversation he was looking forward to having. He’d save it for Triverne Lake. Now was not the time.

‘We all feeling all right?’ he asked.

Darrick raised a thumb from his position on the tiller. Erienne and Denser, sitting together and talking in whispers, both nodded. Thraun’s eyes were sparkling after a recent run in the undergrowth and Hirad grunted assent.

‘Hard to believe we’re headed for the toughest days of our lives, isn’t it?’ said the barbarian. ‘This is all very pleasant.’

‘Don’t lose focus,’ said The Unknown.

‘Hardly.’

‘Denser, Erienne, a question for you.’ The Unknown waited for them to look back to him. ‘This information that Blackthorne got from Lystern about the sanctity of the Hearts. What do you think? We’re relying on it, after all.’

Erienne shook her head. ‘Not really my area,’ she said, a smile on her lips. ‘Demons are more Denser’s thing. He used to own one after all.’

Denser jabbed a finger into her side. ‘Technically correct. I suppose whether it’s likely or not, I trust information from Heryst and Lystern. Actually, despite my wife’s denial, we’ve been talking about this a fair bit and it makes good sense. Look at it this way.

‘Best intelligence suggests that the demons are here to stay, to milk the life force of this dimension for as long as they can, not just rape it and move on. That means they need to keep people alive and mages particularly. Not just because of their souls but because they hold the key to mana. Demons are mana creatures, why would they destroy that which they need to live? The answer is, they wouldn’t. Not if they plan to stay. We know they’re flooding mana into Balaia, that’s why it’s getting so cold. And in future years, the Hearts will keep it from dissipating, give them a base from which to rule.’

‘But we know something they don’t, don’t we?’ said Darrick.

‘You’re talking about the Julatsa experience, I presume,’ said Denser.

‘Absolutely. Which raises an interesting question. Should we not be considering burying all the Hearts if colleges have to be deserted? ’

‘No no no no no,’ said Erienne quickly. ‘For one, we can’t assume the mages are there that know how to bury the Hearts. But much more than that, burying the Heart takes what little strength we have for a long battle. The Hearts are useful to the demons but hardly critical to their success, I’d say. But the other part of your point the survivors will be forced to employ if the demons break us finally. We do know that Hearts die without mages to sustain the mana flow but will the demons believe us?’