‘Seek more,’ he pulsed to his Brood. ‘You know what to do.’

Sha-Kaan saw the corridor in all its glory as he approached. A strand of light that stretched as far as he could see in either direction. A beacon of hope for man, elf and dragon, an icon of fear for their enemies. The single gossamer filament of a spider’s web, shining through the swirling chaos of light and dark. Within it the dead still moved and the Garonin still stole the mana from them. And The Raven still fought.

The journey would soon be at an end. In the distance an ethereal light could be seen. Ulandeneth, the elves called it. The top of the world in dragon lore, where no single term could describe it. The Kaan could not help them in there. In there they would either believe or they would fail.

And the fate of all would be decided.

Chapter 39

The instrument in the hand of a Garonin grazed Hirad’s silhouette. Weakness flooded him and he dropped. The enemy advanced on him. He scrambled backwards, soul energy deserting him. The dead had scattered in front of the soldier. The instrument was a pale ball held in the palm of the hand. It had a neck like a gourd which ended in a needle-sharp point. The point was thrust at him again. He managed to roll aside. He came up against another silhouette, and this one did not flee.

Legs straddled his body and hands lashed out. The Garonin withered and crumpled.

‘I did it when I was alive and I’m still doing it now I’m dead,’ said Sirendor.

‘What?’

‘Saving your thick hide, that’s what.’

‘And you’re still moaning about it,’ said Hirad. He flowed to an upright position and felt the strength begin to return. ‘Best if you don’t let one of those things touch you.’

‘Valuable safety tip. Thanks, Hirad.’

Up ahead, Sol and Thraun were fighting their way towards a breach in the corridor. Auum’s Tai rushed into the flanks of a group of four Garonin who had dropped through a second breach. More helpless dead were drained of mana. More souls failed as they were pierced.

‘Let’s go,’ said Hirad. ‘It would be nice if some of you others decided to fight.’

‘Same as it ever was,’ said Sirendor. ‘Is it just me, or is this passageway starting to angle upwards.’

The pair of them flashed past the ranks of the dead, now broken into smaller groups. Some of them were trying to fight back but something was missing. Hirad ignored them. Sirendor was right. The passage had an incline to it now. Gentle here but it curved up ever more steeply.

‘Up to the top of the world,’ said Hirad.

A broad flash of light bathed the corridor. Hirad gazed to his left. The afterglow of an explosion lingered for a while in the midst of the void then was snatched away. Sha-Kaan’s mind touched his again.

‘You are close,’ he said. ‘The enemy is weakening.’

‘It doesn’t look much like it,’ said Hirad.

The corridor was full of Garonin. Right behind Sol, another breach had been forged in the base of the path. Garonin surged up. Dead fell in their hundreds under the onslaught. Sirendor raced ahead, planting his feet into the chest of an enemy, swivelling and driving right through the Garonin’s body.

‘That I must try,’ said Hirad.

The shade of the barbarian launched himself head first at his nearest enemy. The Garonin saw him coming, his hands came up, weapons in hand. Hirad was going too fast to avoid him. Sirendor washed past his vision. The Garonin stared at the stumps of his wrists. Hirad plummeted through his chest, feeling the faintest resistance and a glimmer of heat.

On the other side, he turned, feeling cold and a measure of sympathy that surprised him.

‘No souls,’ he breathed. ‘They’ve got no souls.’

‘Down!’ called a voice.

Hirad ducked. He felt something pass over him. He swung round, saw Garonin armour large in his vision and the arm of a dead woman sinking up to her elbow in the soldier’s body. She shouted her triumph.

‘We can fight,’ she said. ‘We can fight them.’

The word spread. Hirad flew about, heading for Sol.

‘They have no defence against you but your own fear,’ he said. ‘Go at them.’

Sol had his hands on a tear and was closing it. Garonin turned to stop him. The dead simply engulfed them. Elsewhere, knots of Garonin soldiers paused and Hirad could see the uncertainty in them. Outside, there was another wide flash of light, another machine destroyed by the Kaan dragons. Fire played over the corridor. Claws dragged along the wall right by Hirad. Garonin were swept away.

Inside, the dead surged. Garonin stabbed out, bleeding the energy from as many as they could. But for every two that fell, an enemy was downed. Unencumbered, Sol flew for the next tear. The tide had turned. Garonin were trying to escape back out to the void.

‘Hold them here,’ shouted Hirad. ‘The Kaan need respite.’

Sol nodded. Thraun moved ahead of him. Auum came to the shapechanger’s side. The shadows of the warriors struck out high and low. Garonin soldiers fell back. Auum crushed the waist of one in a killing embrace. Thraun’s fists punched holes in another’s chest. Ghaal crashed in to take the head from another.

The enemy began to panic.

‘We have them,’ called Hirad. ‘Keep it going.’

The broken groups of dead moved to reform. Garonin were cut off in their midst. Sol landed at the next breach, the last breach. He laid his hand on it, fused it shut in moments. The noise of the gales was gone. The pull of the void shut off. Silence but for the dying cries of the last Garonin. The soulless sent to nowhere.

The dead were crying victory. They packed together and moved on up the incline. Far ahead, a pale glow was evident. Hirad nodded his satisfaction. The Raven and the elves came together.

‘Everyone all right?’ he asked.

‘Never better,’ said Ilkar. ‘Besides being dead, that is.’

‘Hardly a surprise,’ said Hirad. ‘I didn’t see you making holes in the Garonin.’

‘Fighting never was my thing, Coldheart, you know that. And magic doesn’t seem to work in here. Thought I’d be better used keeping the dead moving in the right direction.’

‘Will they be back?’ asked Sol.

‘They will not,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘Not here in the void.’

Hirad sensed him very close. He looked about him. There, by the right-hand wall, the Great Kaan was cruising alongside them. He had burns the length of his body and perilously close to one of those huge glorious eyes. His wings looked in tatters.

‘You look a complete mess,’ said Hirad.

‘At least I still live,’ rumbled the dragon, a warmth filling the corridor.

‘Still crap at jokes though, aren’t you?’

‘I had a fine tutor in that regard,’ said Sha-Kaan.

‘Still good at insulting you, though, isn’t he, Hirad?’ said Ilkar.

‘What’s next?’ asked Sol.

‘The Kaan must go to rest. We will watch Balaia when we can. The enemy still move in Beshara and we must look to defend our lands even now. They are not beaten anywhere. Do not relax.’

‘And will you find us when we reach our new home?’ asked Hirad.

‘When Jonas reaches there, I will find him,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘As I will now. The healing streams are stronger within a Klene than out here.’

‘Tell him how we’re doing, won’t you?’ said Sol.

‘I will. And I will speak with your wife, Sol, if I can. Don’t speak now; I know it is difficult. I know what you would wish to say to her.’

Sol’s sudden grief washed through them all. Hirad felt it as keenly as if it were his own.

‘Thank you, Great Kaan,’ said Sol.