The Raven Collection

Two more filled the gap. Hirad was next to him. The young body he inhabited was fast, the soul inside adding skill to speed. He ducked a flailing weapon and slipped his sword into the gap between leg and torso armour. His target collapsed forward, Hirad shovelling him sideways.

A figure flew into the fight on Hirad’s right. It was a moment before Sol realised it was Sirendor. Simultaneously, the squat power of Aeb barrelled forward to Sol’s left. He brought down an enemy, arms around his waist, his body slamming into the surprised man, toppling him backwards. The two turned over, Aeb’s fists smashing again and again up into his opponent’s face. The enemy managed to bring his weapon round. He fired from close range. Inside the shield Aeb had no protection. His body juddered, smoked and blew apart, raining gore across The Raven’s line.

A second man inside the shield turned his weapon on Ras. The Raven warrior jumped and sliced his blade at the enemy helmet. The dull clang reverberated inside the shield. The man did not flinch. He fired. Ras’s head disintegrated and his body flopped to the ground.

‘God’s drowning!’ spat Hirad.

He ducked a flailing blow and came up to block the return and hack down with his sword on the man’s arm. His strike bit but did not pierce the armour. Sol wiped blood from his face. The enemy had seen the way to victory. They came on.

‘Back up!’ he shouted. ‘We’ve got to back up. We can’t let them inside the shield.’

The enemy ate up the ground. The Raven retreated. Every weapon appeared trained on them. Projectiles trailing smoke fell on them in their dozens.

‘Turn and run,’ ordered Sol. ‘Go, go, go.’

The decade of inactivity, the lack of familiarity with new bodies and simply being dead told. Sol spun round, the pain in his hip shooting agony into his lower back. He stumbled. Hirad reached out a hand to support him but the barbarian’s body was not the one his memories knew. Sol brought them both down, clattering straight into Ilkar, who pitched to the dirt.

‘Shield down, shield down!’

White teardrops tore into them. Ren lost her entire right leg, screaming as her soul was torn from her body. Darrick had charged at the enemy line, drawing fire all the way. His body jerked, smoked and was torn through with burning holes, falling unrecognisable to the ground. Denser paused to cast but Sirendor dragged him away.

‘No time, come on.’

Sol tried to get to his feet but his leg wouldn’t support him. He stumbled again. And then Erie

‘No, no!’ It was Denser, but Sirendor wouldn’t let him go. ‘Not again, please, not again.’

Sol began to crawl towards her. She was lying writhing on the scorched earth, beating at the flames which encased her. The others of The Raven downed were already gone. So brief a return, snuffed out so easily.

A foot came down on his back. He turned his body to grab at it and another pressed into his neck. Weapons pointed at his head and chest. He lay still. All he could see were the helmets of three of the enemy ringed by smoke and fire. He heard the screams of the few survivors as they were hunted down and obliterated. He fancied he could still hear Hirad but it had to be wishful thinking.

‘Sorry, Hirad. Why didn’t I listen?’ he whispered.

‘You.’ The voice belonged to one of the helmeted figures. The voice of a God. ‘You are the key.’

Sol frowned. A thundering, guttural roar told him the new machine had begun its work.

‘We will fight to the last man and woman. Your losses will be beyond contemplation.’

‘Not any more.’ Sol wasn’t sure, but he thought the man laughed. ‘Come.’

‘I—’

It wasn’t an invitation. A hand reached down to grip him and Balaia ceased to exist.

Chapter 14

Auum waited until the Calaian Sun had reached deep waters before shedding his tears. The greedy and the disbelievers had burned in their paper castles surrounded by their brief empires just as he had said they would. Clamouring and crying on the docksides as the last ships sailed.

He should not have been desolate for them but he was. Desolate for what they had become. More human than elf in their last moments. Hanging on to material things when the elven nation was reverting to that which it had been for long periods of its history. Back to the life of which the most ancient writings spoke. As nomads. Akin to the Arakhe, the demons, in more respects than they would care to admit.

And just like the Arakhe, the elves were chased from dimension to dimension, their enemy relentless in pursuit of the prize which each elf carried and each temple and city harboured in great density. Mana.

Auum had watched the glorious spires and proud houses of Ysundeneth consumed by flame. Scorched by the heat of mana fire. He had seen the clouds rise above the vydospheres and had known the hungry machines sucked in the very life of Calaius with each belching breath. He grieved for the city. And he grieved for every elf who died trying to keep the Garonin back for long enough that the fortunate few should escape.

But he grieved for the rainforest infinitely more. Not its temples. Though they were beautiful and ancient, they could be rebuilt and rededicated. But for all of Tual’s denizens, i

It might recover. Eventually. There was little more tenacious than the root and branch over which Beeth presided, after all. But would Tual’s denizens return? Those not immolated would have been pushed south into the desert lands or north and east into the sea. So many species would be gone forever. Just like the elves. Forced to adapt and move on, otherwise to perish.

Auum stood in the stern of the vessel. Five days on, the tears had long dried up but the cloud was still visible above ruined Calaius. Behind him Captain Jevin kept a steady hand on the tiller as he had done for as long as Auum had known him. A sea captain without peer and a braver elf Auum had yet to meet bar those of the TaiGethen themselves.

‘It will get no better for the want of staring at it,’ said Jevin.

Auum turned to see Jevin’s broad back.

‘We killed our own to save ourselves. There can be no greater crime.’

Auum’s memories came flooding back. The flames hemming them in as Ysundeneth burned. The desperation to make it aboard ship. The pleading, the threats and the promises. And finally the spells deployed to force order and the TaiGethen attacking those demanding passage when they had originally chosen to stay.

‘Think on who you saved, not who had to die. It is the way of elves.’

‘I ca

‘Who said anything about forgetting? We’re a long time alive, some of us, and our memories come with us all the way. But for now focus on what you have, not what you have lost.’

‘You sound like me,’ said Auum, coming to his side.

Jevin smiled at him. ‘Well, you talk a good deal of sense. Most of the time. And I make it my mission to listen to elves who kill with your efficiency.’

‘And what do we have, Captain?’

‘Look about you, Lord Auum. The sea is full of elven sails pushed hard by the devil wind the Garonin have caused with their fire. Almost three hundred, and all will make landfall before night.’