The Raven Collection

by James Barclay

  ‘I can see their point,’ said Erienne. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eye.

  ‘I, on the other hand, am aware of the full story. It’s just a shame that the colleges have determined to compound their stupidity by going to war.’

  Denser raised a hand. ‘Before you tell us what you know, and we tell you why we’re here, Aeb, you should leave. Go beyond earshot. I can hardly lie to you effectively if you’ve heard everything already, now can I?’

  ‘Master.’ Aeb bowed and left, placing his glass on the table.

  Blackthorne was frowning.

  ‘It will all become clear, Baron,’ said Hirad. ‘I think you should recharge your glass. If you think the situation’s bad now, just wait till you hear this.’

  Into an increasingly stunned atmosphere, first Hirad, then Denser and Ilkar outlined the events on Calaius and Herendeneth and their suspicions and certainties concerning Xeteskian involvement and motivations. Blackthorne didn’t touch his wine or food, just stared back at whoever was talking to him. He asked no questions, merely nodded his head to indicate he’d understood. And despite the fire in the grate Hirad fancied he felt the room chill. Not just due to Blackthorne’s shock, but because to hear it all again brought the enormity of the situation home to The Raven.

  ‘You’ve got to get word to Heryst and Vuldaroq,’ said Blackthorne into the yawning silence that followed, his voice oddly quiet. ‘Xetesk must not be allowed to take possession of either research or artefact.’

  ‘That’s why we need your help,’ said The Unknown. ‘Our clear priority is to recover the thumb fragment. Going to Lystern or Dordover is days out of our way. You’re a respected statesman and a supporter of magic. This sort of news might be better coming from you. We’re not exactly friends of Vuldaroq’s these days.’

  Blackthorne rubbed his hands over his face and drained his glass in one long swallow, refilling it himself having dismissed all his servants.

  ‘The situation is very tense. Lystern has formed an alliance of sorts with Dordover, but Dordover, or more specifically Vuldaroq, is the more active partner. As far as I know, Heryst still has a diplomatic team in Xetesk but details are sketchy. He’s a man of reason as you know but he’s not in a strong position. He’s gone the only way he can, blockading lands and defending Julatsa, but it’s put him in thrall to Vuldaroq whether he likes it or not. There’s no doubt that knowing what you’ve just told me about Calaius and the elves would be enough to bring Lystern firmly into the war on Dordover’s side. But I’m not sure that’ll help you, considering in all probability you’ll need to get inside Xetesk.’

  ‘On the other hand, as soon as the elves encounter Dordovan or Lysternan forces, the story will be out and we’ll have had no chance to mitigate the message,’ said The Unknown.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Blackthorne. ‘Well there’s really only one course of action we can take as far as I can see. I reckon it’s time I sent a trade delegation to Lystern. Quickly.’ He smiled. ‘I might even go myself, perhaps try and find time to have an informal talk with Heryst. You lot, on the other hand, need to get towards Xetesk as quietly and as quickly as you can. I think I can spare some horses and trail food though having an elven archer might help you down something a little more appetising.’

  ‘My Lord, I hadn’t considered you travelling there yourself,’ said The Unknown. ‘You’re powerful enough to request Heryst communes with your senior mage.’

  ‘Face to face is the only way,’ said Blackthorne. ‘This is too important for third-party communication.’

  ‘Just make sure you take a mage we can contact,’ urged Ilkar. ‘If events overtake us, you need to know before you get too close to it all.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ said Blackthorne. ‘We’ll discuss the finer points of travel later but there is something else I need to apprise you of if you’re travelling direct to Xetesk.’

  ‘Wouldn’t have anything to do with Selik, would it?’ asked Hirad.

  ‘Your friend and mine,’ said Blackthorne, nodding. ‘He paid me an unexpected visit a few days ago. Unexpected and odious. He’s getting cocky. Very cocky. And with some reason. He’s got considerable support. Desperation does that to people and he’s a master at playing on people’s fears.’

  ‘But they’ll be old men, young boys and farmers,’ said Hirad. ‘Not exactly battle-hardened.’

  ‘But there will be lots of them. Thousands,’ said Blackthorne. He leaned forward. ‘This is a warning, Hirad. Don’t underestimate him. He’s powerful now and most of the mages are too scared to come outside their college walls. He’s someone else that needs stopping.’

  ‘Well you’re talking to the right man,’ said Hirad.

  ‘Later, Hirad, all right?’ said The Unknown. ‘Let’s get this thumb back to the elves first.’

  Blackthorne pushed himself to his feet. ‘Right, Raven, I’m going to organise you some beds and horses, then we are going to talk further. If we want Balaia back, we’ve got to do this right.’

  Chapter 37

  Erienne couldn’t sleep. The state room she shared with Denser was airy and large, the bed beautifully comfortable. Denser lay quietly beside her but she was unsettled from having spent so much of her time over the last few days exhausted from the continuous training the Al-Drechar had given her.

  It had gone on day and night during the sea journey but they’d left her alone for the walk to Blackthorne. They’d known she needed her energy and said they’d be back to help her sleep, but she’d heard nothing and now she felt fearful because without the touch of those she despised to keep her safe she wasn’t sure she could control the power that had awakened within her.

  She felt gorged with energy and thought of waking Denser before she realised she couldn’t channel it physically. It was there in her mind. So instead she lay quietly, trying to still her thoughts as Cleress had taught her, and visualised her mind as a plug that fitted precisely over the well of energy surging in the One entity. But every time she tried to force the plug into place, flares of deep brown mana energy escaped. Not dangerous but very uncomfortable, the mana energy sniped at her consciousness and fed on her doubt. She felt as if she were alone with a wild animal, trapped in the cage of her own skull. And then fear swept her. How could she hope to control what she couldn’t even understand? The pain grew again, thudding and reverberating.

  ‘Oh, Lyanna,’ she whispered, seeing for the first time the edges of the torment that must have gripped her innocent little child.

  Yet saying her name brought Erienne renewed determination. Fail now and fail Lyanna. She repeated the words as she fought to calm herself, to see through the fear, and in doing so realised her mistake. She had been seeing the One as a force wholly like mana, the random fuel of magic. But it was something much greater. It drew on everything around it, on the air and the earth as well as mana itself, like it was an integral part of the world, bound into its fabric.

  She would have to adjust the way she thought, for while the One could be moulded as mana could, it could not be contained in the same way. It was not inert until channelled, like mana; it was already focussed because it reflected the land and elemental forces around it. That meant its focus would shift wherever she went so her mind would have to do the same to retain control. It would be like continually starting from scratch.

  Deciding sleep would be a long time coming, Erienne settled back and tried to examine the One magic that already seethed within her, barely checked but not yet even fully awakened. Tuning her eyes further into the mana spectrum to give her a clearer view, she could see the deep brown of the One, delicate strands upsetting the random flow of the mana around it. Where mana normally flowed through everything, it was repelled by the One yet drawn to it at the same time. Unchecked, she could well imagine the devastation a full awakening of the One would wreak on a defenceless mind and in the world around because as it drew and expelled the mana it gained in intensity.

  Watching the gossamer strands gradua
lly thickening gave her an idea. She traced them down to their source within her consciousness, to the dark pulsating entity she thought of as the heart of the One. Forcing the strands back with her mind as she had been trying wouldn’t work, she could see that now. Instead, Erienne wove a pattern with the mana around them, using the attractive and repulsive elements to funnel the strands back on themselves, making loops that fed back directly into the pulsing core.

  Almost at once its energy lessened as it was forced into relative dormancy, feeding only on itself. At the same time Erienne felt a wave of tiredness travel through her. She could partition her mind to maintain the simple mana shape that blocked the One strands but it would drain her slowly.

  She snuggled up to Denser, feeling the comfort of his gently moving body as he slept. He stirred a little at her touch, then stilled.

  It is a lesson consummately learned. You are a very talented mage. Cleress’s voice, soothing and quiet, stole into her mind.

  Erienne’s instant irritation at the intrusion was replaced by relief that the Al-Drechar were still with her.

  I wondered if you’d be watching, she replied. But don’t push your luck.

  You must learn to control the One without us as soon as you can. Tonight you understood a tiny part of that control.

  Meaning?

  That what you felt were the merest tendrils of the potential of the One magic. Myriell was holding back the tide with you.

  Erienne blanked for a moment. How small a force was I being exposed to just then?

  Perhaps a thousandth, said Cleress. Minuscule.

  Erienne gasped. And she had felt that energy easily enough and seen it feed and strengthen.

  How could I ever hope to control or use the whole?

  You cannot. No one can, not even us. We will teach you to keep the mass dormant so that it becomes second nature, and to use only that which you need. It is a tightrope but you have the ability. Now do you begin to understand?

  What? But Erienne knew exactly what the old elf meant.

  Lyanna could never hope to contain it. She was too young even to weave the simple mana shape you just employed. Erienne, the One returned to rest when it transferred to you. In Lyanna, it was fully awakened. By the time we met her it was already too late. The Dordovans had set something in motion that was unstoppable.

  You still let her die, said Erienne, but her hatred was fading.

  We really did have no choice, Cleress’s voice pleaded inside her. As a host for the One, Lyanna was doomed, Erienne. And she would have killed us all before she died in torment had we not effected the transfer.

  By ‘us’ you mean the Al-Drechar.

  Initially, said Cleress. But you’ve seen how the One feeds on the elements around it. And you know what the uncontrolled power can do hundreds of miles distant. Before it killed her, the One would have gorged itself further, making the destruction you witnessed seem as nothing.

  All right! snapped Erienne.

  Transferring the One to you was the only way to stop it but keep it alive.

  Yes, I—Erienne broke off, considering for a moment. And what if I hadn’t been there to host it?

  We would have had to extinguish it, said Cleress, her tone leaden. And we couldn’t afford to do that.

  Erienne froze, all thought of sleep gone. She opened her eyes and looked down on Denser, still sleeping beside her.

  There’s something I have to know, she said, fearing the answer. Could you have extinguished the One and kept my daughter alive? Her heart thudded in the silence inside her mind. Could you?

  Cleress sighed. It was possible, she said eventually.

  Thank you for your honesty, said Erienne, feeling her strength collapse. Now get the fuck out of my head.

  Erienne, no—

  And take your senile witch sister with you.

  Erienne, please—

  Get out. Now.

  I’m afraid we can’t do that, Erienne. It was Myriell, voice strong, with no hint of sympathy.

  Erienne felt her mind filling with a fury she had no desire to quell, her grief washing over her again as if Lyanna had died just there and then.

  Go. Your touch sickens me. She could barely get her thoughts in order.

  It had to be that way, said Myriell.

  You let her die for an experiment. She could still be alive. The tears were falling down Erienne’s cheeks and her body was rocking where she sat in the bed. She could still be alive.

  And countless numbers would now be consigned to death with no one and nothing to save them. This was no experiment.

  Don’t give me that. You’re lying.

  First it would have been all the elves, next everyone on Balaia, said Myriell, like she was listing goods on a cart. And we mean everyone.

  Go.

  We will not.

  You’re lying. Lyanna died two seasons before the Elfsorrow took its first victim. Erienne couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Just what exactly am I supposed to be able to do with this curse inside me? March to Xetesk and take back what they stole with my overwhelming power? Think I’m stupid? You want the One for yourselves. To perpetuate what you have. I’m your legacy and that’s all. Don’t try and make me into a saviour.

  Erienne, you have to listen to me, said Myriell. Will you do that?

  I don’t appear to have much choice.

  Erienne felt used. More like a mere receptacle for the One than a saviour of nations. And helpless with it. Because the One was awakening, and though she wanted the Al-Drechar out of her head she knew she couldn’t survive without them. For now, at least.

  Please don’t think of it like that, urged Cleress, her tone so much softer than her sister’s.

  How the hell else do you expect me to think? Talk if you must. I’m listening.

  Myriell’s voice filled her mind once more.

  The One opens pathways. Lets you see outlines of possible futures if you know what to look for and if you study for long enough. And we have had all the time in the world to study. There was a sadness to Myriell’s voice now, its stridency gone. Before we were even aware of Lyanna, we feared for Balaia. The stress in the mana over the colleges was critical. So much mistrust, so much risk of destructive power being unleashed. And then Lyanna came along as an answer to our prayers. A girl strong in the One can do so much good.

  And as we watched the world through the flow of the mana and harmony, we saw more danger signs, more potential for darkness. It was already apparent a crisis of huge proportions was coming. We could almost taste it. But even we were surprised at its scale and swiftness.

  Yes, we could possibly have saved Lyanna but the risk in losing the new birth of the One magic was too great. And though we are distraught at the loss of your daughter, we have been proved right. What we see is never certain at the outset but there is always a sense of good or evil, and what we had sensed was so terribly bleak.

  Erienne, you must remain strong, you must accept more power and you must remain alive. When the statue of Yniss was bound into the harmony of the elves thousands of years ago, it was done using the One magic. When the fragment is returned, the process must be repeated. We cannot travel to Calaius so you must be our channel. No one else can do that.

  I am sorry for the burden this places on you.

  Myriell had stopped speaking for some time before the roaring in Erienne’s ears died away.

  And if you’d chosen to save Lyanna?

  Nothing could have saved the elves and finding the thumb would have been futile.

  What do I need to learn? said Erienne.

  Later. Sleep now. We will withdraw from your conscious mind for a while, let you think in peace.

  You’re too kind.

  I really am sorry, Erienne, said Cleress.

  Don’t bother, either of you. We’ll do what we have to do together but I would advise you never to assume any of my grief. Whatever your reasons, you let her die. You had better be proved right as you claim.

  E
rienne felt the Al-Drechar fade in the form of a quietness enveloping her mind. They were still there, keeping control of the One entity, but Erienne felt no comfort in that. She felt none of the enormity of what the Al-Drechar had told her. Maybe that would come when she had time to consider it. One thing she did know was that it wouldn’t change the way she acted with The Raven. And the first thing she had to do was tell them.

  She looked down at Denser, wondering whether to wake him but finding she didn’t have to. He was lying there looking up at her, a frown creasing his forehead. He reached out a hand and rubbed her lower back.

  ‘What is it, love?’

  Erienne opened her mouth to speak but instead a wave of sorrow broke over her. It was a long time before she was able to tell him what was wrong.

  Auum sniffed the air of his first dawn on Balaia and didn’t care for it much. It was dry and chill, without the mists he was used to, the growing heat or the ever-present threat of rain followed by the glorious cleansing downpour. He felt exposed without the closeness of the trees, and though the landscape he looked at was green and healthy, to Auum it looked blasted. His sharp eyes recoiled at the brightness of the dawn in which he could see rolling plains, a range of mountains far smaller than those now behind them, and a collection of dwellings, fenced and still.

  A wind blew above the Tai where they sat, backs to a low rise, a fire in front of them, rabbits roasting on spits above the flames. They’d travelled quickly the afternoon before, Rebraal’s descriptions and the position of the sun providing the information they needed. They knew what they were looking for. Their path was to travel north and east, past the Balan Mountains they currently faced, track to the west of a forest known as Thornewood, and then head north-east to pick up the trail which connected the port of Arlen in the far south with the college cities in the north.