And then Darvon was there. Atop a massive black charger, the aged Lord General of the Knights began shouting orders, waving his sword around. The defenders of the city rallied around the Lord General, formed into organized lines, and then withdrew step by step, using the Arakites and their large shields on the flanks of their formation to protect them from the reaching hands of the dead. They pulled back along the grand avenue leading in from the east gate, towards the Fountain of the Swans, which was about half a longspan along the avenue. Jenna and the Sorcerers that had been moving around the battle, helping where and when they could, joined the formation as it retreated cautiously and methodically. Darvon had stopped a panicked rout and turned it into a careful retreat, which would save many men from being the victim of their own fear. Tarrin brought his projection down to the ground as the army retreated towards the fountain, interposing his projection between the defenders and the slowly advancing undead, and he was starting to feel weary. Maintaining the projection had turned out to be more tiring than he had anticipated, but he had enough for one more spell. After that, he would have to release the Illusion and return to his own body. He mentally summoned back his Fire Elemental and told it to attack the undead-it would last about five hours with the magical energy he had bestowed upon it when weaving its shell-and then started weaving one more spell. It was quick and easy, a one-flow weave of pure Fire, and he unleashed it as a vast explosion of fire that erupted from in front of his projection and billowed out into the multitudes of the walking dead. They didn't dodge it or run away, and after it was over, the ones that had not been burned beyond the ability to move still shambled forward as their bodies burned like oil-soaked logs. The burnings ones that walked forward kept coming, even after all the flesh was burned from the bones, but some of them collapsed when the fire ate into the skulls, or burned their necks in half.

"Fire doesn't work, Tarrin!" Jenna called. "You have to take off their heads!" She moved out beyond the retreating lines and began to weave, and Tarrin knew what she was doing before she was done. She slashed her arm across her chest in a backhanded motion, and a slicing scythe of pure Air released at the motion, slashing across the entirety of the avenue before her. She aimed it at a relatively middle level that would take the heads off those of average height, and it was brutally effective. The weave slashed into the buildings on each side of the avenue, collapsing them as it cut them neatly in half, and it sliced through the undead shambling forward without impediment. Many of them were hit in the neck, but the taller ones were cut off at the upper chest and shoulders, and the shorter ones had only portions of their heads cut off by Jenna's spell. Regardless of where it hit, Jenna's weave stopped every undead body on the avenue, causing them to crumple bonelessly to the ground in one vast, seemingly coordinated motion.

Tarrin felt his projection begin to lose its integrity. He gave Jenna a single look that she understood, and was forced to abandon his Illusion and return his consciousness to his body. He did manage to hear a sudden tumultuous shout rise up from the defenders for Jenna before he withdrew his consciousness.

Tarrin opened his eyes and felt his weariness. He hovered within the Conduit, which was again glowing brightly due to his presence, and he managed to get his feet on the ground and step out of it. His exhaustion hit him much harder when he left its power-rich confines, separated from energy that sought to infuse him even without him trying. He put his paws on his knees and tried to catch his breath, feeling sweat drip down out of his hair, over his nose. Tarrin didn't sweat anymore unless he was engaged in heavy exertion, since he wasn't affected by heat. And he was pretty certain that even the sweating wasn't really necessary, probably only a side effect or leftover reaction of his body to heavy work. Jesmind was standing near the Conduit with Jasana, and to his surprise, Triana had joined them. His bond-mother looked drawn and pale, and he realized that summoning that Elemental had pushed her powers to the limit. It had taken everything she had to do it.

"Are you alright, beloved?" Jesmind asked in concern, and he could tell she was just itching to rush over to him. But he had given her an explicit warning not to come any closer to the Conduit than where she was now. Not for Jesmind, but to keep Jasana away from the Conduit. Given her strength, he didn't want her anywhere near the Conduit. That Conduit had been what had awakened his power of High Sorcery, and it had nearly killed him. Jasana was even stronger than him, and he doubted that she could control that much power flooding into her. And he was too tired to do it for her.

"I'm starting to wear out," he panted. "That damn Kravon, they had a plan all along!"

"What happened?" Triana asked in a shallow voice.

Tarrin quickly explained what happened, and it was enough to make Triana frown. "That was damn clever," she said with a grudging respect. "Wear us all out, then make us fight the same enemy twice in a row, but this time they're not as easy to kill."

"Shiika said that marilith was smart. I guess I underestimated her," Tarrin admitted. "Darvon rallied the troops into an orderly retreat. They're going to reset at the Fountain of the Swans and face the undead there." He blew out his breath. "But I'm wiped out. I don't think I could weave a spell to light a candle at the moment, and I know Jenna's almost as tired as I am. The Sorcerers are going to have to do without me until I can rest."

"What happened to the mouse?" Jesmind asked. "I saw them carrying her in at the end of the passageway just before you came out of that, whatever it is."

"The same thing that happened to Jula," he replied. "They had to bring her off the field. Where is Jula?"

"In our apartment, or so Miranda said," Jesmind replied. "Miranda's with her now."

"Mother, I know it's alot, but could you find whoever's in charge of the men here on the grounds and convince him that they need to send some reinforcements to Darvon?" he asked. "And make sure they send some fresh Sorcerers, and maybe some Priests."

"Camara Tal is commanding the forces on the grounds," Triana said. "She'll do it if I tell her to do it."

"They're going to need some extra help, Mother," he told her. "They're about to engage a horde of undead about four times their number."

"Alright, I'll go track her down and tell her, if Darvon hasn't gotten the message to her already."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. She nodded and padded off, and Tarrin went over to his mate and daughter. Jesmind put his arm around her shoulder and supported him as Jasana put her paws on his leg, looking up at him with concern. The little girl looked terrified; she'd been unnaturally quiet and nervous since the Goddess hijacked her, and she realized that what was going on was deadly serious. He reached down and picked her up, holding her close and stroking her back, trying to get her to calm down. "I'm fine, kitten, just a little tired, that's all," he assured her when she looked fearfully into his eyes.

"Come on, my mate. Let's go find you a bench or something," Jesmind said. "Somewhere quiet."

Tarrin didn't want to go someplace quiet, he wanted to go where he could keep track of what was going on. Jesmind glared at him, and then a short, heated argument ensued. Jesmind cut the argument short by simply pulling him off his feet and turning down a side passage that led to the kitchens, taking advantage of his weakened state to physically force him to go where she wanted him to go. Tarrin was too tired to fight her, and that meant that she won the argument. If she knew she was capable of getting her way, she would do it, and when he had no way to fight back, he was at her mercy.