The Raven Collection

Sha-Kaan roared to rally his Brood, the answering barks and cries tearing the air from all points, a surge of strength filling his mind. Sha-Kaan arced sharply upwards to gauge the situation in the skies around and below him, a phalanx of guards flew with him, defending his back.

The immediate area around the gateway was charged with battle. Better than fifty Kaan flew a defensive network across its surface, denying any attacker even the slightest chance of an entry. And for those that tried, small packs of Kaan, eight or nine strong, flew attack waves, ready to drive off portal divers.

Not for the first time in his long and fertile life, Sha-Kaan had cause to thank the intensely familial nature of dragon Broods. Together, they could overwhelm the Kaan in a matter of days, but they would never hold peace long enough to organise a concerted assault. What Sha-Kaan saw were disparate groups of attackers, none with the individual strength or guile to beat the Kaan’s defence which was well drilled and properly executed. It was no secret why the Kaan were the strongest Brood. They had order.

Even so, too many beats of this battle and the Kaan would weaken. He hoped he had instilled a sense of urgency in the humans and prayed to the Skies that they had the skill to close the gateway. If not, the Kaan would inevitably perish. All of them.

But for now, more immediate concerns crowded his mind. Below and to his left, three of the Brood Naik had isolated a Kaan from his attack phalanx. As he watched, helpless, the young dragon, twisting through every evasion move he’d been taught, caught blast after blast of flame. Eventually, the heat ignited one wing, the thin membrane gushing to fire as the oils which both lubricated the wing and provided a barrier against dragonfire were driven off, scorching bone and breaking sinew and muscle.

With a cry of mixed pain, defiance and fear, the young Kaan fell from the sky, spiralling out of control, one wing trailing smoke, the other beating in a vain attempt to steady its tumbling body, the tail coiling and straightening reflexively, head twisting as it sought aid. None would come. Sha-Kaan did not look to see the end but he knew what to do.

‘With me,’ he pulsed to his wing-guards. He dived steeply, silent, wings angled back and in, bulleting through the air, reaching a velocity at which he would kill or be killed. The three Naik had no inkling of what was coming. Sha-Kaan’s jaws latched on to the right wing of one, pulling it wildly off balance and dragging it groundwards, his huge body barely in check as it collided with his enemy, the sound of the impact clattering dully across the sky, scales grating together. The smaller beast, flailing talons, tail and free wing, barked its fury and fear, unable to turn its head fast enough to see its assailant, flame wasted on empty sky.

Sha-Kaan’s momentum took them in to, for him, a controlled tumble, dragon falling slowly over dragon until with a sharp twist of his jaws, Sha-Kaan freed his victim. But the freedom was short and agonising. The Great Kaan opened his mouth again and unleashed a torrent of fire, taking the disoriented dragon across the head, neck and along the left wing.

Half-blinded, the Naik breathed a choking gout, scorching nothing but air. Sha-Kaan’s jaws snapped open again and this time the fire dragged the Naik from head to tail, critically injuring wing and tail muscle. Unable to fly, the Naik dropped to its death.

Sha-Kaan barrel-rolled, bellowing triumph and vengeance. He twisted his neck to assess the progress of the battle, picked another target and flew.

‘The question really is, was rip formation an unavoidable side-effect of the Dawnthief casting?’ Stylia

The four mages still sat around the fire. Denser’s pipe smouldered in his mouth and it was an effort even to suck to keep it vaguely alight. He rested in Erie

Out in the square, the rest of The Raven stood with Darrick, discussing the most accurate way to measure the noon shade. They hadn’t long to come up with a solution. It would soon be midday.

Those of Darrick’s cavalry and Stylia

For the quartet of mages, their talk was the heart of the problem. How could the rip to the dragon-dimension be closed before the Kaan strength collapsed and Balaia fell victim to a deluge of fire?

‘To answer your question, my Lord, we’ll have to pull out every text of Septern’s held by the Colleges,’ said Erie

‘And my training focused solely on control of the casting parameters, not on withdrawal,’ said Denser with a shrug.

Ilkar ceased his prodding of the fire. ‘So what you’re saying is that there could have been a way to close off the vortex as you shut down the mana shape.’

‘Yes, but that was not detailed in the main casting texts. It might be in the Lore somewhere. Septern’s understanding of dimensional magic was very deep.’

‘Well, it wouldn’t ever be in the casting texts,’ said Erie

‘You’re assuming that nothing in the Dawnthief text and shape formation produces the same effect,’ remarked Ilkar.

‘Well, there isn’t.’

‘And what makes you so sure, Dordovan?’ Stylia

‘Oh, please, Stylia

Stylia

‘My Lord, Ilkar is right,’ he said. ‘Erie

‘You have studied Septern?’ asked Stylia

Erie

‘By birth alone,’ said Stylia

‘Dordovan,’ affirmed Erie

‘Good,’ said Erie

‘He was an experimenter,’ said Ilkar. ‘He just wanted to see how far he could go.’

Erie

‘So what did you do, Denser?’ asked Ilkar.

‘I just dismantled the shape. Rather hurriedly, I admit, but the drain on my mana reserves was critical,’ said the Dark Mage. ‘I considered that to be safer than simply withdrawing from the spell and shutting out but there was a balance. Had I not dismantled as quickly as I did, there was a danger that the shape could have grown beyond my control and I couldn’t risk a backfire. Not with Dawnthief.’