Back out in the middle of the fight, Ghaal and Miirt were under increasing pressure. Garonin bodies fell and disappeared. Too many for them to ignore. The Tai were back to back against ten, their limbs blurring, swords tracing paths in the air. But it was all in defence.

Auum thought to help them but before him stood three Garonin. Others ran left and right of them, diving into the mana-rich souls behind him. More screams, more pleas for help. Auum drew his second blade. The three Garonin rushed him, their speed startling. Needle points flashed out from their hands, joined to their armour by lines of some kind.

Auum swayed left to dodge the first, bringing a blade through to sever the line. He ducked down as he moved, his other blade chopping into the second needle, shattering it. The third came straight for his head. Dropping the blade from his left hand he caught the needle scant inches from his forehead, hurling it to the ground, where it smashed.

Auum launched himself forward. Left fist connecting with the faceplate of the centremost enemy. His momentum carried him on. The Garonin had no chance to react before Auum’s blade lodged in his gut. Auum dropped to the ground with the body and rolled aside, dragging his blade clear. The remaining two Garonin had been joined by three others.

Auum drove to his haunches and scuttled backwards, giving himself precious room. Another figure loomed over him. He glanced up into the hard black eyes of his enemy. No blow came. The Garonin toppled sideways and a human hand reached down to help him up.

‘Can’t have you taking all these for yourself,’ said Hirad.

Auum smiled. A deep green-brown washed the ivory land to his right. Garonin by the dozen disintegrated, screaming as they went.

‘Raven!’ called Sol from behind him. ‘Raven, with me!’

Auum sent a brief prayer of thanks to Yniss and let his blade speak again.

God’s Eyes arced through the sky, falling in the midst of the Garonin blocking the mouth of the valley and the path back to the beach. Rebraal and the Al-Arynaar pushed hard up the right-hand slope, mages with them, shielding them from the white tears that blew the unwary apart. But the mages were weak and the shields fragile. The Garonin knew it too.

The attack, when it came, had been as shocking as it had been overwhelming. The valley had flooded with the weapon fire of the Garonin. Beams of energy had surged down from the vydospheres above them, obliterating those they touched. TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar rendered to so much ash in moments.

But still the Garonin could not force surrender. ClawBound and TaiGethen charged into the enemy forces. Al-Arynaar warriors and mages regrouped under shielding spells and the fightback had begun.

The God’s Eyes did little but cause armour to flare. Rebraal cursed. Ahead of the surviving Al-Arynaar, perhaps a hundred and fifty of them, the Garonin were waiting, weapons raised.

‘Get our shields overlapping to the front,’ he called. ‘The Tai have our backs. Pushing my warriors. For Yniss and our people!’

The Al-Arynaar moved forward, Rebraal at their head, Dila’heth just behind him. Down on the valley floor the TaiGethen pressed into the central mass of Garonin. The enemy pressured them at the rear, where the ClawBound and more TaiGethen were amongst them, disrupting any concerted advance.

‘Slowly,’ said Dila’heth.

‘We cannot afford to be slow,’ said Rebraal.

‘My mages are weak. Concentration is fragile. We must be careful. ’

But Rebraal could hear the sounds of destruction and pain from beyond the valley. He could see the bodies of his brothers and sisters littering the valley floor. Garonin weapons kicked up shards of rock and mud all around them. White tears from across the valley and from above splashed over the shields. Mages gasped under the pressure and the enemy in front still weren’t firing.

Eventually, Rebraal nodded. ‘Slowly, warriors! At the pace of your mages.’

‘They’re waiting,’ said Dila. ‘I don’t like it.’

‘They have no need to force anything,’ said Rebraal.

There was a series of detonations from the foothills of the mountains. Rebraal looked up. Smoke and dust billowed out a few hundred feet above his head. A bass rumble vibrated through the rock wall that formed the valley side along which the Al-Arynaar moved. Shards of stone began to fall. Rebraal went cold. A dull thump echoed out. And another.

‘Shields!’ he roared. ‘Shields above. Orsyn’s Cocoons now. They’ve broken the mountain!’

The thumps had become a thundering rattle and rumble. Rebraal stared up into the dust. Boulders tumbled down the steep slopes, bouncing high and crashing through shrub and tree. They splintered on rock. Thousands of tons swept down the mountainside.

Simultaneously, the Garonin ahead began to fire. White tears washed across the front of the shield, heaping pressure on already weak mages. There was no time to split and run. Nowhere to go but into the arms of the Garonin. Al-Arynaar began to run into the lee of the valley side but the rock slewed down so quickly.

Rebraal could not take his eyes from the avalanche that rushed towards them. And when it struck, he had no idea how many mages had the strength or the skill to cast the Orsyn’s Cocoons that might just save them. Not enough. Rock slammed into warrior and mage alike. Some were swept away. Others crushed, smeared into the ground by boulders the size of wagons. Screams and panic were lost beneath the tumult. Rebraal reflexively tried to shield his head with his arms. Stone slapped down towards him.

And bounced. He heard a sigh. Dila sank to her knees, holding her arms outstretched above her. The Cocoon covered at least forty elves. Some were mages keeping shields steady against the Garonin. Others were warriors praying to Shorth for swift transport of their souls. And Shorth would have to wait.

Rebraal crouched by Dila’heth, trying to peer through the dust cloud that temporarily enveloped them while he lent her the support of his damaged body. The torrent of rock had lessened dramatically but merely allowed Rebraal to hear the cries of the injured and dying.

As the dust began to clear a little, he could see three groups of elves standing beneath Cocoon castings. Down on the valley floor, the fight still raged on. TaiGethen and ClawBound fought like never before. Claws, jaws, blades and fists ripping into the enemy. But they were outnumbered by more than ten to one. It was a brave action but it could not go on forever.

The Garonin in front had ceased firing for the moment, no doubt assessing the damage their soldiers had done in causing the avalanche. A vydosphere thrummed overhead, sucking the mana from the dead and dying. Dila’heth let her spell disperse. She swept her gaze over the survivors.

‘We cannot win this way,’ said Rebraal. ‘We are trapped.’

‘But not helpless,’ said Dila’heth and, bless her, she smiled. ‘It’s our turn now.’

Rebraal frowned. Dila’heth called a few mages to her.

‘What are you—?’

‘Just keep them off us. Just for a little while. And run when I say. We don’t have much but what we have we’re going to use right now. All of it.’

Rebraal kissed her forehead and stood. ‘Warriors! Fight with me.’

He charged ahead towards the waiting lines of Garonin, caring not if the white tears tore his body to pieces. He felt his brothers and sisters with him. The enemy readied, some choosing blades above weapons as they sought to harvest mana rather than simply kill. So much the better.

The leader of the Al-Arynaar roared the name of his brother to clear his mind for the fight. Looking left and right, he guessed fifty were with him. The elves sprinted into the attack. Weapons fired. Energy seared across the diminishing space, ripping into bodies, hurling smoking corpses to the ground and blasting limbs from bodies.