The Raven Collection

As if in response, a resonance built up in the air. A cloud quickly formed above the machine. It was shot through with lightning spears of colour. Yellow, green, orange and blue clashing and exploding. Another wave of heat pulsed out. Fire raged briefly in the wake of the machine and more of the Balaian landscape was turned to dust and ash.

‘I’ve seen enough,’ said Sol.

‘Me too,’ said Denser. He turned to Erie

‘What?’

‘HellFire, my love,’ he said. ‘It’s now called Cleansing Flame.’

And accompanying her delightful child’s laughter, Denser inclined his head and the Jalyr’s Sun was released.

Barely fifteen feet from the ground, the deep blue sphere, flashing with white and blue light deep in its core, sailed out from the casting team. It was vast. Forty yards in diameter at best guess.

‘You really mean business, don’t you?’ breathed Hirad.

‘People really shouldn’t take bits of my country away without asking, should they?’ said Denser.

The sphere crackled with barely suppressed power. It increased in speed as it approached the enemy, and veered sharply up right in front of them. Their eyes followed it. The beasts pulling the machine ignored it completely. A curt nod from Denser and the sun set on the invaders.

The sphere dropped like a stone, impacting the ground and the enemy, bulging at its base before exploding in a deluge of blue fire. A hot wind rushed out, forcing Sol to turn his head briefly. The sound of the detonation rattled overhead, a thunderclap in a clear sky.

In its midst the invaders had been obliterated. Sol could see nothing of the three who had been walking in front of the beasts, nothing at all. One of the two beasts had let out a brief wail but now both huge corpses burned blue, the flame eating them to ashes faster than the eye could see. Grass, bush and tree had been scorched in an instant. Through the clouds of smoke all that could be seen was the machine, glowing red in the heat, its seams turning white.

The sound of metal straining and rivets popping echoed across the land. The shell of the machine was expanding. Sol put his hand up to his eyes to protect them from the fierce heat the Jalyr’s Sun had caused. He could see masts buckling and melting, fu

Steam and an oily smoke erupted from bursting seams and through the torn openings of fu

‘Down!’ yelled Sol. ‘Shields. Shields!’

He dropped to the ground, dragging Hirad with him. He put his face to the dirt and covered his head with his hands, praying everyone was following his lead. The machine exploded. A scream was torn from Sol’s lips, lost in the teeth of the detonation that roared overhead, filling the sky.

He dared a look. Ash and dust were a thick, choking cloud. Ripped metal sheets whistled overhead. Others sailed high into the sky, turning and spi

‘HardShields up,’ said Ilkar and Erie

More debris drummed onto the outside of their dual shield, harmless now, bouncing or sliding to the ground around The Raven. Sol could hear other shields being cast. He could hear the screams of the wounded too. They would have to wait just for a moment. He rose to his feet and brushed himself down, giving Hirad a helping hand when he was done.

Denser lay where he was for a moment before rolling onto his back and spitting dust from his mouth.

‘HardShield,’ he said, getting gingerly to his feet. ‘I think you’ll find you mean Orsyn’s Cocoon.’

Ilkar just laughed. ‘Call it what you like, Denser.’

The air had stilled and Sol turned back to the devastation the Xeteskian spell had wrought. Small fires burned all over the ground and the base of the machine flickered with dozens of flames.

‘We need to see to the wounded.’ Denser was behind him, talking still.

‘Agreed,’ said Erie

‘Indeed,’ said Denser. ‘I hope no one is too badly hurt. Something wrong, Sol?’

Sol didn’t reply. He began walking towards the husk of the machine. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, burning parts and charred debris were disappearing, plucked by an unseen hand. So were the bodies of the beasts.

‘This can’t be good.’

The wreckage of the machine blinked out of existence, leaving baked earth beneath it and ru

Fifty men stood before him, no more than a hundred yards away. Big men. Eight feet tall and more. Armoured from head to toe. Another fifty. Then another hundred. Another harvesting machine appeared behind them. Sol was rooted to the spot. He could hear Hirad shouting from just a few paces behind him but could do nothing but stand and stare.

Every one of the enemy had something in his hands. Not a sword nor a spear but surely a weapon of some kind. They raised the weapons and pointed them at Sol, at The Raven, at the whole Xeteskian force. And they began to march.

The Unknown swallowed.

‘Oh shit.’

Chapter 13

The south walls of the college rocked once and simply crumbled. Heryst, standing on the wide raised courtyard of Lystern’s tower had not even seen what had hit it. It hardly mattered.

The enemy had reached the city boundaries and not even paused for breath. Terrified people ran before them. The few who stood up to them had been trampled underfoot, rendered to dust. A swathe of destruction two hundred yards wide and expanding angled directly towards the college gates. Buildings had rippled and fallen. He’d seen streams and teardrops of pure white light streaking out from the approaching attackers.

Mages had dropped spell after spell on them. And all it seemed to do was bring more of them to the fight. Twenty armoured soldiers walked lazily over the rubble they’d created. In their wake came the machine his mages told him was sucking the mana from the air. The Heart of the college was next.

College guard and mages streamed into the lower courtyard below him. City folk were ru

‘Volley!’ he yelled into the tumult, unsure if anyone could hear him to relay his message. ‘Volley!’

In truth, his orders were immaterial. Order existed but barely. Archers, the precious few he had, were firing at will. A truly pointless exercise it seemed with shafts bouncing off armour wherever they hit. But still they tried.

The noise seemed to intensify with the heat belched out by the machine. Another cloud was forming above it, crackling with energy, shot through with green light, draining away the power of Lystern, college of magic. Heryst fought the urge to cry, to turn and run from his utter helplessness. He was surrounded by his leading mages and every one of them looked to him for direction.