'No,' said Yasal, his pulse angry. 'You must not attack. You must not risk all that we are building.'
'You build nothing,' spat Falon-Koli. 'Alliance based on lies and rumours. Where is your threat, Sha-Kaan? I will tell you. It is the Skoor. And they have used you to destroy us. We will die but we will exact revenge. It is all we have.'
'One more time. Slow. Please.'
Sha-Kaan was cruising in a high arc above them now. Closing fast. Yasal bored up from below on intercept.
'Stop us and feel our flame.'
At a signal, the seven Koli split. Sha-Kaan bellowed his frustration. He pulsed his brood as Yasal would be doing. Skoor scattered from their cloud base. One hundred and seventy-five of them; completely overwhelming for the Kofi.
'Flame take you, Caval-Skoor,' he pulsed. 'What have you done?'
'What we had to,' came the calm reply. 'And now the task will be completed and you will have my attention.'
Caval had broadcast to all that might hear. A flood of enraged responses filled the psyche. They would not fly with the Skoor; they had put aside their disputes; they would side with the Kofi to drive the Skoor from the skies.
Naik and Kaan dragons begged for calm while they aligned themselves for defence. Sha-Kaan, his heart thundering in the centre of his body, felt the hope drain from him. He roared again, blasting flame into the empty sky. Koli and Skoor closed on one another, calls of hate, taunts of death sounding loud. Broods across the sky formed into attack and defence formations. Stara and Gost packed
together. The smaller broods gathered, some already flew in the slipstream of the few Koli. The first flames struck, the first jaws clamped on.
'Yasal, break away. Don't put yourself into this. Kaan, to the heights.'
The Broods Kaan and Naik spiralled upwards. Sha-Kaan heard the screeches of burned dragons and he closed his eyes.
'Please,' he pulsed to any that would listen. 'Pull away. Tanis-Veret, Koln-Stara, Eram-Gost. All of you who would save our dimension pull away. Join us in the heights.'
But the deafening roars of battle below tolled at him that they were lost.
Chapter 29
The Raven had been aware the elven-led Julatsan force was approaching long before they could see it. Auum had brought them slightly south of Triverne Lake to a hidden position overlooking the route of the wagons.
It was largely a psychological cover point. True, the crag formation gave them a sight and attack barrier from everywhere but head-on; but The Raven had a signature that the demons craved and they would sense it long before they needed their eyes. The risk was a calculated one. Denser considered the density of mage souls would be enough to deflect their attention for long enough to allow a clear run in.
For some time, they had been watching the demons tracking the train, swarming and swooping to attack in their hundreds. Spells had flared and bludgeoned in response. The low roar of order, combat and movement had been a constant companion. But only now was the picture complete.
Coming into view on the crest of a long, shallow rise, the first wagons were picked out in late-afternoon silhouette. They were no more than a mile away. Hirad could see elves shadowing each wagon as well as those that rode canvas roofs and running plates.
Demons clustered in the sky above and battled inside the Cold-Room shell as the train made its ponderous progress towards Xetesk, pace governed by the fragile concentration of the casters within the wagons. The mages without whom the allies would be overwhelmed.
Yellow light washed out from just behind the crest of the hill. Demons screeched and scattered. Some fell, spiralling helplessly, others dived on the casters.
'How are they doing that?' asked Hirad.
'Rebraal must have spaced the ColdRooms,' said Erienne. 'Created mana-rich areas.'
'Fascinating,' said Denser. 'If you consider that mana is channelled over the outsides of the shells, it'll create areas of real density if the spacing is right.'
Hirad looked across at him. 'We really must talk about it some more. I'd so love to learn.'
'You are such a heathen, Coldheart,.' said Denser. 'It's a very clever idea. Nothing you'd ever dream up.'
'Risky, isn't it?' said Darrick.
'Only if they hang around once they've cast,' said Erienne.
Hirad watched the fighting inside the shell and couldn't help but smile. From this distance it was impossible to identify facial features but it hardly mattered. A demon attack went in. A swarm of tiny demons Auum identified as strike-strain, and that Hirad recognised only too well, were backed by the man-size reavers.
The strike-strain were there to cause confusion where they could and they plunged straight for the wagon drivers. And there they met the defence. The elves, deliberate, graceful and always on the offensive. And their human companions, those that had survived this far, frenzied, panicked and forever on the back foot. That was why Rebraal needed The Raven. To give the humans focus and belief.
'How many wagons set out?' he asked.
'Fifteen,' said Auum.
'Dear Gods burning,' said Hirad.
The end of the train was in sight. Eight wagons remained.
'They'll be here in less than half an hour,' said Denser.
'Know that for a fact, do you?' said Hirad.
'Educated guess.'
'Hardly matters. We need to get in there and get involved. We've done enough hanging around. We've—'
'Hirad, are you all right?' Erienne's hand was on his neck.
'I—'
The full force of the rage hit him then. He knew he was falling but he was helpless to save himself. His body was suffused with the strength of Sha-Kaan's fury and he had no option but to let it wash him away.
'Sha-Kaan,' he managed. T can't—'
The Great Kaan was close to losing control. The frustrations and anger thudded around Hirad's skull, rendering him helpless. He was dimly aware of his friends spealdng to him, touching him, but he had no way of responding. He gathered the vestiges of his consciousness to him and did the only tiling he could.
'Sha-Kaan, stop. You're killing me.'
Abruptly, the hammering of emotion within him ceased but did not allow him to return to consciousness.