‘I’m sorry,’ muttered Rebraal. ‘May Shorth speed you to your rest.’ He had no time for anything else. Too much rubble littered the ground. ‘Focus on the cobbles. Clear the street or we’ll lose wheels going down there.’

Left and right, Al-Arynaar were closing back in to guard their mages as they entered the street. Cursyrd ran and flew at rooftop height. Their masters had gathered their attention once more and they came again from above and behind. Rebraal ran back down the line.

‘Single file. Wagons single file.’

They were rolling now. More wagons were coming from the gate. The sounds of fighting from within the walls echoed up to the sky where cursyrd massed from all points of the compass. Rebraal smiled grimly. They had made one small advance but the journey had only just begun. He prayed the ColdRooms would not be long in casting. He wasn’t sure how much any of them really had left.

Chapter 26

Auum saw it all with utter clarity. He and his Tai moved as one, acted as a single entity, a boiling of controlled action in a sea of confusion. They targeted the reavers. Easy prey for the cell. Strike-strain clawed and buzzed around them and were knocked away as an afterthought. The real threat to the human mages, the wagon drivers and horses lay in the tall strong soul stealers who stalked and dived in the throng of the courtyard.

Duele and Evunn pirouetted together and downed a muscular deep blue creature. It barely had a chance to breathe before Auum pinned it down by its chest. Duele snatched an arm outwards, Evunn backhanded a dagger into the nerve ganglion revealed and the cursyrd died.

Auum rose to his feet. To his left, an Al-Arynaar had become detached from his warrior group. Cloaked in strike-strain, he became confused and disoriented. Quickly, three reavers were on him, lashing in claws, biting and gouging. One clutched him under the chin as he weakened and drained his broken soul.

It would be happening everywhere. Cursyrd flooded the courtyard, dropping from the sky; the strike-strain like malevolent hail, their reaver brethren sails on the breeze. Duele and Evunn came to his shoulders. They watched a change in the cursyrd tactics as the second-wave wagons started to roll. Combat against the Al-Arynaar on the ground and on wagon was both difficult and, should their weakness be exploited, deadly and now they were concentrating solely on the horses, trying to take out the escape’s prime motive force.

Barking out orders and signing the alarm, the Tai cell raced into the centre of the courtyard. They were already too late to save one wagon. The driver was swarming in strike-strain, the flanking elves were under attack from twice their number of reavers, and the horses were being cut to pieces.

‘Leave it,’ said Auum. ‘Left and right. I’ll take centre. Tai, we move.’

The trio split, heading for three separate wagons in the third wave. Al-Arynaar were keeping the cursyrd away on the ground but more fell from the sky. Auum dodged individual battles, increasing his speed dramatically. Dagger in hand, he took off, arrowing feet first into a reaver just landed on the back of a terrified horse. He caught the creature in the side of the head and the two of them hurtled to the ground, the cursyrd disorientated. Auum took a forward roll on landing, coming smoothly to his feet and spinning on his heel, balance perfect.

The soul stealer was struggling to get its legs under it. Auum pounced, stamping a foot into the creature’s neck, wrenching one of its arms up and driving his dagger deep into its nerve centre. He turned and ran back to the wagon, leaping onto the kicker board and straight-punching another which tumbled to the dirt.

Next to him, the driver was screaming in panic, covered in strike-strain. Auum grabbed the man’s face.

‘Calm,’ he said. ‘Drive. I will protect you.’

Slowly, the man focused on him and managed to nod.

‘Drive,’ repeated Auum.

The TaiGethen swivelled and made quick assessment. On the roof of the wagon, Al-Arynaar were holding off the reavers while on the ground warriors and mages kept their perimeter around it. On the roof of an adjacent wagon, Duele danced. Auum could have watched him all day. Feet planted on roof struts or blurring through the air to strike. Arms laid out for balance, block and punch.

To the right, Evunn, like Auum, was standing by his driver. An Al-Arynaar stood on each horse’s back. All three wagons began to move. Across the ground, the bodies of cursyrd and Al-Arynaar were scattered; more of the latter than the former had fallen in the hand-to-hand combats but losses on both sides were climbing. Skirmishes raged across the open space. Warriors drove space for wagons to move into. Spells fired across the ground and into the air. Mages using FlamePalm ran in all directions, burning strike-strain, wounding reavers. Under the eaves of the stables and behind a solid rank of elven warriors, mages cast hard and fast. Cursyrd were being washed from the sky and flung far from the combat. The air stank of blood and burned flesh but still they came on.

Auum nodded at the Al-Arynaar warrior beside him on the kicker board.

‘Clear the driver. I will watch.’

A soul stealer landed heavily on the back of one horse which reared and threatened to bolt, kept in its traces only by the weight of the other which skittered. The driver, with strike-strain being pulled from his back and face, fought for control. Auum jumped lightly onto the animal’s rump, his left foot already coming round to clatter into the upper back of the cursyrd. He planted the foot and struck with both fists, tipping the creature onto the ground.

Beyond the walls the ground shook and the sound of tumbling stone echoed across the city. Auum heard screams. Still on the horse, he crouched and turned to the driver. The Al-Arynaar stood by him, working to keep him clear of strike-strain.

‘Faster,’ he said. ‘We move.’

The wagon picked up pace, the flanking Al-Arynaar being forced to break into a trot to keep up. A movement caught Auum’s eye, high and to the right. Reavers, eight or more, diving hard for the wagon. Not even he could keep them all away. He leaped back onto the kicker board.

‘Above,’ he said to the Al-Arynaar. ‘Trouble.’

The reavers came in steeply, claws first, shrieking fury. Auum stepped up onto the roof with the two Al-Arynaar. It was temporarily clear of enemy. The gatehouse was approaching.

‘Faster,’ he ordered. ‘Gallop.’

He heard the reins snap. The horses took off, happy to be let go, jerking the wagon behind them. Auum knew the mages beneath would lose the spell but others would still be casting. Above, the reavers adjusted their direction, knowing they wouldn’t reach the horses before they reached brief cover. Three of them pulled away, flying over the gatehouse to meet them on their exit. The others ploughed on for wagon and driver. These would strike in time.

A shiver ran across the college. Nothing could be seen, but the sense of power rushing into the air was undeniable. Cursyrd howled and screamed. Hoots of alarm bounced across the courtyard. A concerted roar from the masters above rent the air. Auum smiled. It was mirthless. He dropped his dagger and had two short swords in his hands in a heartbeat.

Above, the reavers came on but they had slowed dramatically, deep inside what had suddenly become a dome of pain. They couldn’t brake in time. Three, wings swept back, tried to change their attitude to feet first. It made no difference to Auum.

‘Take them,’ he said.

He sidestepped the first and drove both his swords deep into its back. Dark gore sprayed into the air but the thrusts were not fatal. The mana shells surrounding the cursyrd were stronger now, making them dangerous even within ColdRoom castings. Auum dragged the blades clear, ducked a claw from another reaver and whipped one blade across its throat, stabbing the other into its eye.