James Barclay - Ravensoul

‘Listen to him,’ said The Unknown. Sirendor joined them and all placed hands on Ilkar’s body. It just seemed the natural thing to do. ‘We know you, Ilkar. We remember your sacrifice at Understone. We know how strong you are. Believe in yourself as we believe in you. The magic doesn’t matter. Your soul next to ours, that matters.’

Ilkar’s shivering began to subside and the shimmering that had encased his body cleared. His boots reformed slowly over his ankles and feet. Thraun trotted up and nuzzled Ilkar’s head, licking him hard across the face. Ilkar spluttered and thrashed to a sitting position.

‘That is disgusting.’ He stared at them as if for the first time. ‘What happened?’

‘We thought we were losing you, Ilks,’ said Hirad.

Ilkar wiped his face. ‘I have never been licked by a warrior before, in whatever shape he currently resides.’

‘Well, pull a fading stunt like that again and it’ll be me next time,’ said Hirad.

‘What more incentive could an elf want?’ Ilkar held up a hand to The Unknown, who was standing. ‘Can you help me up?’

‘Sure you’re all right?’ asked The Unknown.

‘Much better for the pep talk, Unknown.’ Ilkar smiled.

The Unknown gathered them all close. ‘Before we run, I want you all to bear in mind one thing. We cannot lose faith, not for a moment. It makes us weak and we cannot afford that. Whatever happens, we are Raven, we are strong. We have never been defeated.’

He held out his hand, palm down. One by one, Sirendor, Ilkar and Hirad placed theirs on his.

‘We are The Raven,’ he repeated. ‘Now let’s go save Auum and find ourselves a new place to rest.’

A soul-tearing scream stopped them before they had taken a single step.

Two figures lay on the ivory ground not five feet from where Ilkar was standing in The Raven’s huddle. Their screams called out to his soul, burying themselves in the centre of his pain. He could feel theirs so cleanly it brought him, all of them, to their knees.

He led the crawl over to them while the screaming dug at his ability to put one hand in front of the other. His teeth were gritted together and a taut sound was being dragged through them. Wreathed in flame, her hair burning like the brightest lantern on the darkest night, the little girl had her hands over her face, helpless in her agony. Arms wrapped around his head as if to protect him from whatever fell on him, the other figure, a grown man, was tucked into the foetal position. He was covered in dust as if fresh from the trail. His head was a mass of blood, his skull smashed at the back. Shards of bone had pierced the brain within.

Sol reached them first, laid his hands on the girl. The flames were extinguished immediately and her body relaxed. A shuddering sigh escaped her burned mouth and a transformation overcame her. Her body lengthened, grew. Beautiful angled features were drawn on her face. Auburn hair covered her skull and a full figure developed beneath tough trail clothes.

‘Erienne,’ gasped The Unknown, and she dragged him into an embrace, body shaking, her bright green eyes looking out over his shoulder, staring and confused.

Hirad hurried to the man. His screaming had subsided. Tight curls now adorned his head and the dust of the trail was gone. He wore cavalry boots and trousers, a chain mail shirt and a cloak was about his shoulders, trimmed the green of Lystern. Slowly, he straightened out and came to a sitting position. His face was pale but in his eyes shone the determination that had made him such a valuable member of The Raven.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Oh, thank you. I was lost. I heard you.’ He smiled. A rare occasion when he had been alive. ‘I found you across the void.’

‘General Ry Darrick, late of the Lysternan cavalry,’ said Hirad, holding out a hand which the other man took, shook and used to pull himself upright. ‘We thought you gone forever.’

‘Where are we?’ Darrick asked.

‘Where we should have been a long time ago,’ said The Unknown, helping Erienne to shaky feet. ‘Seeking our new home.’

‘But there’s a problem, right?’ asked Darrick. ‘It isn’t as simple as that.’

‘We are The Raven,’ said Hirad by way of explanation. He turned back towards the Garonin. ‘And we’re late to the fight.’

‘Are you all right, Erienne?’ asked Ilkar, coming to her other side.

She smiled at him but there was still confusion in her eyes and the memory of agony.

‘It already felt like forever,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t think you would ever find me.’

‘What did?’

‘The void. It is worse than any myth. Trapped in the moment of violent death for all time. I have been burning, my flesh melting and my bones cracking. I can still feel it, Ilkar.’

‘It will fade. You’re with us now,’ said Ilkar. ‘What’s your story, Darrick?’

Darrick turned a haunted face to him. ‘Even though I came back, I have been feeling the pounding of endless tons of stone on my head and across my body. Why that?’

‘Perhaps it is still your most vivid death memory,’ said Erienne. ‘My latest most certainly is.’

Darrick nodded. ‘Every moment I can feel the one that dashed my skull and the smell of the karron demons. I can see you all there on The Thread and I die endlessly, never knowing if you succeeded or not.’

‘You all ready to run?’ Hirad had broken into a trot. ‘And as you’ll have guessed, we did succeed. Couldn’t have done it without your help on the way, though.’

‘Thank you. Where are we running?’ asked Darrick.

Hirad pointed and Darrick fell in beside him. Ilkar smiled and his body felt strengthened, more complete. Perhaps Sol was right. And perhaps more would come. Still, though, the mana spectrum was dark.. no, not quite. Beyond the Garonin, from where the luminescence emanated, there was something.

‘Souls,’ said Ilkar. ‘Thousands of them. We’d better make this fast or it’s going to be a slaughter.’

The souls huddled together in the lee of the edifice their combined strength had created. The escape from the corridor had been close. Auum had never doubted they would make it but enough of the dead had lost faith and so had inevitably perished. They had been cast back into the void as the passage folded to nothing. The rest were scared and the crumbling of the rock, if such it was, behind them was evidence of failing belief.

None of them would help the TaiGethen. Indeed it was hard to pick out many individuals. Most had coalesced into an amorphous shifting globe, each with a voice that shouted for help. Some had remained grey shadows. All waited for Sol to appear to lead them to safety. But The Raven was nowhere to be seen and Auum had more significant and immediate problems.

‘Ghaal, how many?’

‘Thirty-eight. All carrying the mana drain needles. Forty yards distant.’

‘Work to disrupt them. They’ll try to get round us to the mass. Choose your blows.’

Auum unclipped his jaqrui pouch, loosened the swords in his twin back-mounted scabbards and thanked Yniss for his gifts. He turned to the two greatest gifts of all. TaiGethen. Souls he’d thought lost forever. Friends garbed for the rainforest and painted brown and green on their faces in the manner of Tual’s children. Evunn and Duele.

‘Yniss calls you for your greatest challenge, my friends,’ said Auum. ‘Fight with me one more time. Protect the dead. Help is coming.’

Duele and Evunn nodded. Both looked confused, fearful even. But the sight of their Tai leader brought them hope and, more importantly, faith.

‘Tai to me. We pray.’

Auum knelt and bowed his head as the Garonin moved closer. He could feel their footfalls through the ground and he could hear them slapping dully on the ivory. The four knelt with him and they knew the closeness of touch.