He walked over to the Xeteskians, Denser following him. The two soldiers had been dumped to one side of the door, Auum having snapped the neck of the one he'd knocked cold. But the mage, under the watchful eyes of Duele and Evunn, was showing signs of coming round.

'Well, well, well,' said Denser. He knelt and shook the mage, slapping his cheeks. 'Wakey, wakey, Arnayl. You need to answer us some questions.'

Arnayl's eyes flickered open and a hand moved to rub his chin while he stretched his mouth. Middle-aged, his light hair was streaked with grey and his square face was lined, eyes red-rimmed. He blinked in the gentle light, frowned while taking in the faces of elves and men around him and started violently when he focused on Denser.

'What the f-'

'No time for that,' said Denser. 'There are things we must know.'

'Where am I?'

'Somewhere you never believed existed,' said Denser, smiling. 'Now, what's the current mage and college-guard strength inside the walls?'

'Find out,' said Arnayl. 'You'll get nothing from me.'

He tried to raise himself on his elbows but Denser shoved him back, his head cracking on the packed ground. He grunted.

'Let me remind you of your position.' Denser's tone hardened. 'There are more than twenty people in here. All of them would be happy to end your life. All of them have lost precious things because of Xetesk's actions and your life is forfeit, as is anyone's who stands in our way. Now I might be able to persuade them to let you live but you've got to help me out. Right now.'

'I will not betray my college,' said Arnayl. 'You cannot ask that of me.'

'The more we know, the fewer Xeteskians will die,' said Denser. 'But we are going in and we will get what we came for. You can help us save your fellow mages or you can die, knowing many will join you. Answer me.'

Arnayl stared back, closing his mouth deliberately. The sound of a sword being drawn echoed thinly in the small chamber. The point of that sword pressed against Arnayl's throat. Hirad spoke.

'Your people triggered Elfsorrow. You would have presided over genocide. Thousands died, including my friend Ilkar. Because of you-'

‘Ihad nothing to do with that decision.'

'You are Xeteskian, sworn to your college. You are to blame.' The swordpoint drew blood. 'Don't think I won't kill you in cold blood.'

'Please.' Arnayl's voice was choked and the colour had drained from his face. He spread his palms in supplication.

'Tell Denser what he wants to know. And don't try to cast. You aren't quick enough to beat me.'

Arnayl swallowed and closed his eyes. ‘Ican't tell you anything. Surely you understand.'

‘Iunderstand,' said Hirad.

He drove the point of his blade through Arnayl's throat. Blood fountained into the air. The mage juddered and died. Denser shot upright, jumping away from the mess.

'Gods, Hirad, what are you doing?'

'He would have told us nothing,' said the barbarian, dragging his blade clear and wiping it on Arnayl's cloak.

Auum nodded. 'He is right.'

But there was something in Hirad's eyes that wasn't right. Like he'd lost his focus. Denser had seen it too. So had The Unknown.

'Hirad, what is it?' asked Denser.

Hirad was shaking. He fought to steady his arm to sheathe his sword and when he turned his face back, there were tears standing in his eyes.

'I could have saved him,' he said. 'And now all I can do is avenge him.'

'No one could have done that,' said The Unknown. Tlkar said it himself. When he contracted Elfsorrow he was already dead.'

'No!' shouted Hirad. 'All that time we wasted. We let Yron escape into Xetesk and lost days. Days. And being here and listening to that bastard just makes it so real. I could have ridden after him. Gone round the Protectors and caught him, made him give us the thumb fragment. I stopped.' He turned away from them. 'I stopped. And he died.'

'It wasn't like that,' said Denser. 'You aren't counting right. Even supposing we'd caught Yron, Ilkar would still have caught the disease and died on the voyage.'

But Hirad was shaking his head. 'We could have made it to Calaius,' he said, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. 'Back to the rainforest. We would have found a way.'

Rebraal walked over to him, the eyes of every elf and The Raven on him.

'We must all take some responsibility,' he said carefully. 'I could have stopped them at the temple but I didn't. The TaiGethen and ClawBound could have found him in the forest but they didn't, not soon enough. We can't go back and correct what has gone but we can shape the future, make Ilkar's death mean what it should – the start of the return to balance in magic. And for that we need the Aryn Hiil and our other writings. We need that strength to go to Julatsa with the confidence to succeed.

'Don't lose it in here. We need you.'

Hirad breathed deep. He managed the briefest of smiles in Rebraal's direction. 'I'm sorry.' He took them all in now. 'All of you. This is very difficult.'

'We all know what his friendship meant to you,' said Erienne. 'Do right by him and help us all get out of here alive.'

The barbarian nodded, a very definite gesture. He looked squarely at Auum.

'Let's go get your books,' he said.

Chapter 16

Dystran hadn't really slept at all. At best, a few hours' edgy rest, broken by those damned elven-controlled panthers. There was something about the noise they created. Unearthly, somehow, it drove shivers to the core of them all. Broke their dreams. They were the enemy's most potent psychological weapon though they didn't seem to realise it. Dystran would have have had them calling all night. As it was, the alarm, when it came in the early hours of the morning, was almost a relief.

He'd agreed the defence plan with Commander Chandyr on the city walls and Captain Suarav in the college guard during the previous day and so dressed unhurriedly before leaving his tower and descending the long spiral stairs, past his guards and disabled static alarms and blocks.

Myx was waiting at the base of die tower. The huge Protector, like fifteen of his brothers, was being used more for city-wide and battle communications than protection. Dystran knew the humiliation they felt but he had no time for guilt.

'News,' he demanded.

Myx fell into step next to him. 'The walls have been breached. There are enemies in the city.'

Dystran sighed. One failure already. 'How many?'

'It is impossible to say.'

'Oh, right,' Dystran smiled. 'You're going to tell me that no one saw anyone, I suppose.'

'Correct, my Lord.'

Dystran stopped. Make that two failures. 'I was joking.'

'Yes,' agreed Myx, uncertain how to respond.

'You're telling me that no Xeteskian guard or mage has laid eyes on the enemy even though they are inside the walls?'

'Some will have, my Lord. We have not yet found the bodies.'

'Was that a joke?'

'No, my Lord.' Myx was surely frowning beneath his mask but Dystran couldn't see it.

'Stupid question.' Dystran waved a hand and set off again.

His mind boiled, the acerbic comments he might deliver churned away. He shook his head, muttered to himself and scratched his hair, unruly from his disturbed rest. He was halfway across the spectacular domed hall which lay at the centre of the tower complex and high above the Heart of the college.

Passages ran away towards the chambers at the base of each tower as well as to banqueting and reception halls, guest quarters and administrative offices. It was a maze for the unwary and the design was entirely deliberate. Ways to the real power of the college were not easily discovered and no senior or circle mage wanted the uninvited venturing into catacombs or tower.