The Raven Collection

‘Master of the Tower, I am Erie

He considered her for a moment before nodding.

‘Indeed,’ he said in a voice brittle and quiet. ‘And your companions? ’ He gestured vaguely with one stick.

‘They guard me.’

‘They may enter the hall but go no further.’

‘I know, Tower Master.’ Erie

‘You are impatient, Erie

‘Hmm,’ he said eventually. ‘Do not trespass. The penalties are swift and severe.’ He shuffled back into the Tower, leaving the door open for them to enter.

Erie

‘I must have a scary face.’ Thraun smiled, but it was less than convincing.

‘We could ask you the same question,’ said Will.

‘The Tower Master, you mean? Just do as he says. He runs the house for the Lore Masters. No one goes against his word and it worries me that he didn’t like you.’

Thraun shrugged. ‘What now?’ he asked.

‘I’m going into the library to check up on the defences around Arteche’s ring. The heavy door you’ll see to the right of the library leads to the crypts. Take a good look at the lock but I’d advise against turning the handle.’

She turned on her heel and walked into the Tower. She headed left and opened a wood-panelled door, then stopped and turned. ‘Don’t - are you two all right?’

Thraun and Will had only taken one pace into the Tower before stopping. Both men had paled, eyes widening more in fear than in reaction to the half-light inside.

Will felt a weight settle on his body like a metal shroud. Oppressive and cloying, it squeezed his lungs and chilled his heart, breath catching in his throat. His eyes swept around the hall. Directly in front of him, a flight of stone stairs led upwards into darkness, and to the right of them, a single closed iron-bound door.

Erie

‘Would you rather stay outside?’ asked Erie

Thraun shook his head weakly. ‘No, we’ll be all right.’ Will was alert enough to shoot him a sharp glance. ‘What is it?’

‘Mana,’ said Erie

Behind Thraun and Will, the light was fading fast and the lanterns on the wall lightened in response. Will sank into a chair near the library while Thraun closed the main door.

‘I wonder what she means by not being long?’ he said.

‘Hmm.’ Thraun leaned against the lintel the other side of the library entrance. ‘I don’t know. Whatever, it’s going to seem an age in here.’

‘Better make ourselves useful, then. Let’s see about that lock.’

Denser dozed fitfully. In his half-dreams, the Familiar struggled to free itself from a cage too strong to break. Its form swam from cat to true, its claws scrabbled, talons flashed, teeth rent, voice howled . . . Denser awoke, uneasy. He sent his thoughts through the gloom and relief flooded in as he felt the calm beat of the Familiar’s force. He bade it be cautious.

In the street outside the College of Dordover, a black cat withdrew further into shadow, its eyes never shifting from the gate and its solitary guard, who sat smoking at his post.

‘You must be seen to leave.’ Erie

‘And then?’ asked Will.

‘Wait until full dark, then come back. I’m staying to do a little more research.’

‘Is the gate well guarded after dark?’

‘No, same as daytime. Either way, I suggest you come over the wall behind the long room.’

‘Isn’t it spell-guarded, the wall?’ Thraun shifted his stance; something wasn’t quite right and it irritated in his subconscious.

‘No.’ Erie

‘Who indeed?’ Will smiled ruefully.

‘Your problems start when you try to get back in here.’

‘Why leave then?’

‘You aren’t allowed in the College after dark. They’ll kill you if they find you. Meet me in the library.’

Will nodded and led the way outside, gasping in the air as he stepped out into the dusk, the weight lifting from his body as quickly as it had settled. He glanced over his shoulder to see the door shut behind them, and he and Thraun hurried down the path, past the guard and out into the street.

Erie

‘Erie

In the shadows outside the College gate, the cat pricked its ears, feeling its hackles rise. It shifted, looked behind it, but there was nothing. From nowhere a hand clamped around its neck, pi

‘Don’t think to change, little one. Your bones are thin beneath my fingers.’

The cat was lifted up to a face, dark, with long black hair tied back. The eyes, brown and narrow, bored into its skull. The man spoke again.

‘I could smell you from within the walls,’ he sneered, tightening the mana hand a little. ‘Let’s see if we can’t draw your master from his hiding place.’ A bag, heavy with invested mana, covered the cat’s head, cutting off its sub-vocal howl.

Denser’s scream of pain shattered the peace of the woodland hiding place. Hirad jerked violently from his doze then sprang to his feet, hand already on the hilt of his sword. He ran the short distance to the stricken mage and took in Sol, who was standing near by looking on in what appeared to be disinterest, if anything could be gained from the eyes behind the mask. Denser was hunched on his knees, hands clasped to the sides of his head, nose scraping the leaf mould. A dark trickle ran from a nostril.

‘Denser?’ He could see no wound, no reason for the mage’s sudden cry. That scared him. He felt Ilkar and Jandyr at his shoulder. Ilkar went past and knelt by the Xeteskian, an arm about his shoulders.

‘Denser?’ asked Ilkar. ‘Can you speak?’

Denser gurgled and groaned, shuddering the length of his body. He gasped and allowed Ilkar to pull him upright. Even in the gathering gloom they could see his eyes dark with blood against his stark white face. He seemed years aged, and when he opened his mouth to speak, the muscles of his jaws spasmed. Blood ran from his mouth.

‘They’ve taken him,’ he managed in a voice thick with phlegm. ‘They’ve taken him to get me.’