James Barclay - Ravensoul

Outside the circle, the remaining TaiGethen weaved their unique form of death with astonishing accuracy and speed. But even they were coming under increasing pressure. The Garonin had ceased their attack on the mass of souls in an attempt to destroy the aggressive defence provided by Raven and elf.

‘We need to get to the TaiGethen. Bring them into the circle,’ said Sol.

Sirendor blocked a strike to his waist and stabbed out, landing a glancing blow on his opponent’s hip.

‘That’s the third time you’ve said that.’

Sirendor feinted to move in and instead swept his blade low, carving deep into the thigh of his target. The Garonin staggered back. Another took his place. Sol scowled and lashed out with his blade. The Garonin in front of him blocked the strike, grunting with the effort.

‘Fight me,’ growled Sol.

But they would not. The Raven circle was moving steadily towards Auum. Erienne cast again. Reinforcing Garonin were hurled aside like a child discards a toy. A path opened up to the TaiGethen leader. Sol saw him surrounded. Six Garonin converging on him. Auum turned full circle, taking them all in. His movements impossibly quick and sure.

Auum crouched. Blade in one hand, jaqrui in his left. He powered to his feet, taking off and twisting his body. His left arm came round. The jaqrui howled away, slamming into the helmet of a Garonin soldier. His blade came next, spinning on the horizontal as it left his hand. It hacked deep into the arm of a second soldier. Both men fell back.

Auum landed and was running at his next target. Sol couldn’t focus on him. He shook his head to clear his vision but there were clouds before his eyes. He gasped, pain gripping his soul.

‘Unknown!’

Hirad’s voice came from a long way off though the touch of his hand was immediate. Hands dragged Sol backwards. The circle closed. Sol could hear fighting. The clash and spark of weapons. He felt a huge pull on his body, like someone was trying to suck his heart clean out of his chest.

‘I have him.’ Ilkar’s voice. ‘Unknown, lean into me. We’re still moving.’

Sol had no idea if was standing or seated. Warmth was growing around him. The light of the mass of souls burned incredibly bright in his mind, like staring into the sun. Pinpoints closer were those of The Raven and TaiGethen. He heard voices. Distant echoes of those he loved. And those of the lost seeking sanctuary.

Sol’s entire body was juddering. In a brief moment’s vision, he saw Ilkar’s arm and clung to it. The elf’s face was confused and bright, so bright.

‘Keep it inside you.’ The voice came from everywhere. It was Auum. ‘Do not let it take you. Not yet.’

But Sol did not know how to achieve any of that. He felt as if his body were being flushed by the force of the void. A chasm had opened up between the body that had drawn around his soul and the soul itself. He reached out, trying to grip himself. He saw a spectral hand clutching at the centre of his spiritual body. He found purchase. And he found a tiny degree of calm.

The fight was raging on around him. Sol shook off Ilkar’s hand and straightened his shoulders. Garonin had closed in on Miirt. Ghaal was fighting his way towards her but he wasn’t going to make it. Hirad was moving The Raven’s circle in the same direction. The barbarian’s blade licked out, cracking against the armoured shoulder of a Garonin shoulder. Next to him, Sirendor ducked a wayward thrash and jabbed his blade up and into the gut of his opponent.

The pull on Sol’s body declined. He looked about him. The soul mass was pulsating, lanterns to banish the darkest of nights. They could feel the pull.

‘Enough,’ he said.

‘Unknown, are you…?’ said Ilkar.

‘Let me go,’ said Sol.

He walked between Hirad and Sirendor, moving them both aside. His blade was held in one hand, leaving his right hand free.

‘Follow on. Keep your guard up,’ he said to Hirad.

Sol strode up to the Garonin, who fell back a pace ahead.

‘Fight me!’ he barked at them. ‘What, no guts for it? Then cease your attack. Now.’

The Garonin ahead of him stopped. Sol moved up and drove his blade straight through the soldier’s chest. The man was hurled backwards, skidding across the ivory floor, blood pulsing from a deep gash.

‘I can take you one at a time,’ growled Sol. ‘I know what you want from me. Cease your attack.’

Sol was wavering. He fought to keep his body steady while his mind was ablaze with light and a yearning that he would soon not be able to deny. The Garonin paused. All of them.

‘Miirt, hold.’

Auum’s voice came as if from a long distance. Sol felt The Raven move up around him again. He heard Hirad calling Miirt and Ghaal into the circle.

‘What are you doing, Unknown?’ asked Darrick from by his right shoulder.

‘Buying time,’ said Sol.

The Garonin began to move away from The Raven. Sol could hear the susurration of their conversation or laughter or whatever the hell it was. Hirad was standing close to him, as was Darrick. Close enough that he couldn’t fall sideways. Thraun padded up and down in front of the Garonin lines. There was blood about his muzzle and on the fur of his shoulders.

‘You accept your fate,’ came the voice of the Garonin.

‘We accept nothing,’ said Sol. ‘But that the price you have paid is far too high for the mana you have managed to harvest. We may not have beaten you but what price your failure in your own world, I wonder.’

‘What’s going on?’ asked Darrick. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘They know what Sol represents,’ said Auum. ‘What he is here to do. They wanted to take as many of us from him as they could to weaken us. To make it easier for them to gain entry to our new home through him. And in that they have failed.’

‘And what do we do now?’ asked Sirendor.

‘Prepare,’ said Auum.

Someone took Sol’s arm and helped him move towards the edifice. There was comfort there amongst the thousands of souls that had survived the Garonin attack. The Raven gathered in front of him, Ilkar and Hirad helping him to a seated position with his back to the wall, directly under the finger of rock.

‘Who built this?’ he asked, though the answer was obvious.

‘They did,’ said Auum. ‘The souls. To focus themselves. To give them a place to congregate and a place where you would find them.’

Outside, the Garonin mustered. More and more were appearing. They stood still for a few moments as if orienting themselves before moving forward. Darrick was standing and looking out.

‘This is not a good situation,’ he said. ‘We may have a wall at our backs but we have an overwhelming number in front. How long will this all take?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Sol, brightness again growing within and without him, his soul reaching out. ‘But we have to hold them off until we can bring our people to us.’

‘And what then?’ Sirendor spread his arms. ‘How can we stop them following us? How can we stop them doing exactly what they did on Balaia and following the dead to their rest and then back to the land of the living, wherever that is?’

‘Have faith,’ said Sol.

‘Faith isn’t going to be enough,’ said Sirendor.

Sol climbed to his feet and grabbed Sirendor’s shoulders before The Raven man began to fade.

‘No, Sirendor, it is everything. Believe. You must believe. Anything less and we are lost. We will find a way to prevail.’

There were tears on Sirendor’s face. ‘I cannot see it. A thousand against a handful.’

‘Trust me,’ said Sol. ‘Trust the Ravensoul. Just a little longer.’

Hirad put his arm around Sirendor’s shoulders, nodding to Sol to sit back down.