'Shield up,' he said.

Hirad nodded but didn't take his eyes from the enemy in front.

'Pushing Raven!' he roared.

Hirad's blade, quick as ever, licked into the face of an enemy, reversed and chopped down through his chest guard, dragged out and turned away another blow. Next to him, The Unknown was deep in the heart of the enemy line, the dagger in his left hand blurring as he struck out, the long sword in his right carving gracefully, blocking, twisting and thrusting.

His power was immense, every blow from either weapon knocking opponents back, giving him all the time he needed for the killing thrust. One man died with the dagger clean into his eye when he had thought a heartbeat earlier he had scored a hit on the big man.

Another took a cleaving blow into his side which opened up his gut and he fell, spilling entrails over the blood-slick ground.

To The Unknown's left, Darrick and Thraun fought in a partnership that was beginning to work very well indeed. Darrick, the consummate swordsman, played defender while Thraun, raw power in every blow, thrashed his blade two-handed into enemy faces.

But it was the flanks that worried Denser. He could see the Xeteskians pressing there. For all their speed, the elves were very lightly armoured and their short blades didn't have the reach. Too often, they were being dragged a pace forwards, too often the result was a cut, a body blow or a killing thrust.

'Flanks weakening,' warned Denser. 'Cavalry waiting.'

'Archers!' shouted Darrick, pushing away a man. The Unknown clubbed him down with a huge blow to the top of the skull. 'Flank support! Fire at will.'

Rebraal stood in the left flank, sporting a cut to his face and holding his left arm gingerly, his sleeve soaked red. He called out in elven and Denser heard the bows stretched behind him. Another shout and every elf to the left of Thraun dropped to his haunches and turned a backward roll, arrows flying over them into the enemy beyond. They stood back up to run in but a volley of crossbow bolts from behind cut hard into them, felling four at least.

'We need more shields!' called Darrick. 'Someone get me a Julatsan from the pit.'

But there was no one free to do it and, Denser suspected, not a single mage able to detach by now. The enemy pressed on both flanks while making no progress against the centre. He heard a shout from behind and the thundering of hooves. At the rear of the Xeteskians, the press of hundreds parted and the cavalry, two abreast galloped in.

With no respect for the few of his own caught beneath hooves, Chandyr drove his horses through the weakened left, scattering Al-Arynaar and knocking Thraun from his feet.

'Break!' shouted The Unknown. 'Reform at the pit. Go, go!'

Denser dropped concentration, turned and ran. The Raven were all in a group, Al-Arynaar behind them keeping the cavalry from forming a charge. Spells detonated behind them, arrows filled the air and the sounds of hoof beats rang loud in the courtyard.

Racing for the path to the Heart pit which ran between the library and the long room Sha-Kaan had fetched up against, Denser dragged in concentration for a new casting. No time for defence now. He had to disrupt the charge.

'Turning, Denser!' warned Hirad.

Denser stopped and turned. A dozen cavalrymen were charging them. Behind them, the gateyard was chaos. Al-Arynaar fought in packs, Xeteskian soldiers and mages formed up into a cohesive line again, and more of Chandyr's cavalry piled through the shattered gates. In front of him, The Unknown tapped his blade. This time, though, Denser was faster. He brought his arms together across his chest, his fists clenched, held at his shoulders. He focused on the centre of the charge now ten yards distant and widened his mana vison. His voice was calm and certain.

'HellFire.'

Multiple columns of superheated blue mana fire scorched down from the clear sky, seeking the souls of the cavalry. The centre of the charge was deluged in an instant, the lead man disintegrating under the force of the spell, his horse driven into the ground, legs ripped to either side. On either flank, the columns gorged on flesh, their targets screaming briefly before dying. Fire splattered everywhere, riders veered away and circled, the burning horses plodding painfully to a halt, collapsing in agony. A wave of heat washed over The Raven and to a man, they staggered backwards.

'Too close,' breathed Denser, feeling the exertion of the powerful spell drag at his reserves.

'Good work,' said The Unknown, his sword still tapping its rhythm.

Al-Arynaar were running in their direction, aiming to strengthen their line. Out in the gateyard, the Xeteskians were slowly winning, their superior numbers telling. But The Raven couldn't break. Here they had to make a stand. Behind them, the last chance for Julatsa was being played out.

But to Denser's ear came the unmistakable manic laughter of familiars and following that, the calls of the ClawBound.

Erienne had seen the mages fly in and heard them call out their college allegiance as they came. A quick dip into the mana spectrum had revealed the truth and she had bade Pheone carry on the preparations. Mercifully, Sha-Kaan's untimely crash into the grounds of the college had injured several but killed none and the wounded had all come out to cast.

'You can hold off the shadow, Erienne?'

'We'll soon find out, won't we?' she said. 'One way or another, this is it. Get casting.' She had turned to the first Lysternan mage. 'Guard us,' she ordered. 'Never mind whatls going on out there, The Raven will handle it. Familiars are my biggest concern. We can't afford to have any distractions, and you can't afford to show them any fear. They can be downed with magic. Believe in yourselves.'

'I understand.'

'Now leave me be.'

Erienne immersed herself in the elemental spectrum and saw its colours. She could see the deep blue of Xeteskian magic mixed with the dull yellow that signified Julatsa and, surrounding both, the multiple hues of brown and dark, dark green that made up the base of the elemental flow. The power churned from the stone of buildings, from the earth at her feet, and from every living creature. She could pick out every mage standing around the Heart and, further afield, every man and mage who fought at the gates.

She narrowed her focus and found the Heart. So much darker than yesterday before the failure. The tendrils of shadow had thickened to corded strands and were twining about each other, adding to the solid grey already covering the core structure. And there, right at its base, she found the pulsing fracture that flared up whenever Julatsan magic was cast. That was where she would fight her own personal battle while the Julatsan adepts fought theirs against the shadow.

She waited, watching again the construction of the splint and its connections, saw the poles form and attach, saw them puncture the shadow to grab at the Heart itself. She felt a moment's pure panic. They all had no choice but to trust her completely. Should she fail, and should the darkness take the Heart once more, there would be no coming back. Julatsan magic would have been destroyed.

Around her, the mages took the strain and the Heart began to lift. She ignored its delicate progress and instead edged the stopper from the well of One power and began to try and meld it to a form she could use to suppress the darkness. Almost immediately, she saw it begin, the trickle of black into the base of the Heart.

Erienne reached out with her mind to touch it, felt its intense cold, like the power of the dead earth flow through her. She jolted and drew back. It grew and grew, spreading up. She had no choice. Letting her mind free, she dragged in the live flows of all the elements around her and plunged into the dark, screaming as the cold force channelled through her.