I'm just so scared of failing.
Then don't. Tou are equipped with all you need to know. Tou do trust me, don't you, Erienne?
Tes.
Good. Then trust what I say. Believe what I say. Tou must not doubt yourself. Focus on all the castings you have made that have been perfect. They far outweigh those which were not. Remember the tautness of your concentration.
It all sounds so straightforward when you say it, Cleress. But when I open my eyes, what will I find, I wonder?
Remember you are everything you think you can be. Tou are the One mage.
I am when you are with me.
Cleress laughed but it was a tired sound. Tou don't need my strength. Tou have a surfeit of your own.
If only I knew where to find it.
Tou know where it lies, child.
And you must be tired, old woman.
I am. So if you will excuse me I will rest. Bring yourself round. Gain from the contact of The Raven. Tou are each other's best chance.
Thank you, Cleress.
Sharyr knew he was screaming but he had no desire to stop. He thought perhaps Brynel and Suarav were doing the same and if they weren't, they ought to be. They were moving as one, he leading, shouting commands between his screams and keeping them simple. One thing he couldn't afford was for he and Brynel to pull in opposite directions. It would leave Suarav a dead man.
'Left!'
And they flew left, feeling the wind as a pack of strike-strain missed them to the right. They turned back in towards the shell. The sky lit up with a Julatsan barrage. Sharyr exulted. What a sight.
'Straight in. Trim those wings, Brynel.'
The mages adjusted their wings for raw speed and immediately
began to lose height, Suarav's weight dragging them down. Sharyr heard Suarav shout in shock as the speed struck them. This was a final approach. They wouldn't get another chance. In front of them, the wagons had started to move but there were those who had detached and were heading towards the edge of the shell where they were aiming to break through.
Their way was blocked by strike-strain and reavers, floating in the air ahead of them. Sharyr looked briefly below. They were no more than twenty feet in the air now and still sinking. They had nowhere to go.
'Hold course, Brynel. Close your eyes and let's pray.'
He felt a strange exhilaration. This was the defining moment of his life. For once he had been in control of his own destiny, and had chosen this path. He recalled being browbeaten by Dystran, he recalled his protestations and how he could never hope to have His voice heard. Not this time. So he didn't pray. He bellowed his rebellion.
'Hang on, Suarav. Enjoy the ride.'
They collided with the strike-strain. Sharyr felt the small creatures buffeting him. He put his head down and let it happen. Bodies hurtled into his head, midriff and legs. He felt the drag on his waist when Suarav was struck and just one huge impact that could only be a reaver.
And then he was falling.
He opened his eyes. They were inside the shell and the Wings had dispersed on the instant. The ground rushed towards them. They were travelling so fast. Too fast surely. Then they were all bouncing over the ground. Every impact was a new pain. He felt hard earth on his backside and the sharpness of wood or rock in his gut. He tasted dirt in his mouth and cried out when his shoulder jerked uncomfortably under him as he slid to a stop.
'Oh dear Gods, I'm still alive.' And he began to laugh.
Hands were about him and he could see faces. Voices questioned him, heavily accented. They were elves of the Al-Arynaar. He had heard about them.
'Are you hurt? Can you stand? We have to move now.'
He didn't know the answers. He moved to stand and pain lanced through his back. He winced. The arms helped him slowly to his
feet. He looked about him. Suarav was still on the ground but shaking his head, and moving freely. Brynel was smiling and gasping at the same time, a difficult combination.
Sharyr became aware of the sounds in the shell. The calls of demons and the cries of men and elves. The rattle of wagons, the hoofbeats and the fighting in every quarter.
'The cursyrd attack. We must move.'
'Yes,' he said. 'Yes.'
They started to move. Demons flew down on their heads. Tiny strike-strain nipping at their scalps and ears. He flapped his arms ineffectually. The elves hurried them along.
'They cannot really hurt you,' said the elf running beside him. 'Why are you here?'
T need to speak to the man . . . the elf in charge. You need to know about the streets of Xetesk.'
T will take you to Rebraal.'
Sharyr had never heard of him but the reverence in the elf s voice was enough.
'He sounds perfect.'
The elf didn't answer him.
Behind them the wagons were rolling under attack from the skies above. Auum led his Tai through scorched grass and smouldering flesh. The cursyrd line had broken but it was reforming quickly. They, the Al-Arynaar and The Raven had to keep the cursyrd on the back foot. If the karron should reform in any great numbers, the mages' work would be undone.
Working within the compass of the ColdRoom shell, Auum tore into the attack, operating with twin short swords. Duele and Evunn were on either flank.
'Target the karron. Tai, we strike.'
The karron were identically formed, unlike their reaver brethren. The fine hair he had seen from a distance was in fact a writhing, coarse sensory mat. The eyes were small and dim, perhaps only able to tell the difference between light and dark. The squat creature's raw power lay in its trunk and arms. And these latter swung with surprising swiftness, defying its lumbering gait.
Auum ducked a swinging spike limb and lashed his blades into
karron legs. He stepped smardy aside, a hammer thumping the ground where he had been standing. He pulled back, reassessing die creature's speed. It came at him, arms punching and swinging. A bludgeoning tactic but directionless. Auum swayed left, took a pace and lashed in a kick to the side of its head. It grunted and shook its head to clear its senses but Auum was already upon it. He stepped inside its arms and buried both blades in its face.
The karron wailed and collapsed forwards. Auum dropped and rolled backwards, bouncing back onto his feet. Beside him, Duele and Evunn tackled three that worked in unison.
'Feel the dance, my brothers,' said Auum.