The rooftop to which they had jumped from the collapsing building was a work in progress. They were standing amidst the debris of a building site. Half-built walls, piles of stone, sand and barrels of water. Pots of whitewash, brushes, trowels and even a couple of straw hats. A block and tackle had been hanging from the near edge of the building but the ClawBound elf had stripped it for its rope. Every tool of the trade was scattered about, evidence of a hurried evacuation or perhaps merely a poorly run site.
‘Why do you say that?’ asked Diera.
‘Because while the bulk of them stand and guard their machine, these eight are heading right for us. Raven, I want an ambush plan. Here or at the next intersection.’
Sol looked after the ClawBound, who was still creating a path to the college gates. He had laid ropes and even knotted sheets where he could and left markers for jump points, so Thraun had reported. The Garonin were less than a hundred yards away now and would soon be in weapons range. Sol pulled away from his family.
‘Time to move. Brynar, how are you doing?’
‘Hirad is all right to walk now.’
‘Good. Freedom’s Wings for you again if you don’t mind. Brynar.’
‘Yes, my King.’
‘Not “king”, just Sol. And thank you for not abandoning my family.’
Brynar shrugged. ‘What sort of man would I be? Besides, Auum made it clear the fate I would face if I ran.’
‘I’ll bet he did.’
A short incantation and gossamer wings appeared at Brynar’s back. He held out his arms and Diera placed young Hirad in them. It was several hundred yards to the apron in front of the college gates. They had to traverse another four intersections and get across the heavily trapped open space.
‘I could take him all the way,’ said Brynar.
Sol paused on the verge of agreeing. ‘But they wouldn’t let you leave. We need you.’
‘Keep out of sight of the college as long as you can,’ said Brynar. ‘I’ll open the postern gate for you.’
‘There isn’t a postern gate any more,’ said Sol.
Brynar raised his eyebrows. ‘Trust me on this.’
Sol nodded. ‘Diera?’
‘Gods drowning, yes, take him inside the walls. All right, Hirad? You go with Brynar to the college and he’ll keep you safe.’
‘Yes, Mama.’
‘I’ll be there very soon.’
‘Go, Brynar,’ said Sol. ‘And thank you.’
Brynar took to the air, skimming low over the rooftops. Sol watched him, a lump in his throat.
‘We need to get out of here,’ said Sirendor.
Sol glanced back at the Garonin and shook his head. ‘No. I’ve had an idea. The next roof is too open. Pretty garden but too open. Plenty of places to hide here.’
‘Good thought,’ said Sirendor. ‘The Garonin will have to drop out of sight of us before they reach the adjacent block.’
‘Good,’ said Sol. ‘Diera, Jonas. Time to go.’
‘Father…’
‘Don’t argue with me, Jonas. We don’t have the time.’
Sol stooped to pick up a shovel. It was a satisfying weight in his hands.
‘The rest of you, I suggest you pick up your choice of implement. I will stand centre to make sure they know where to come.’
‘Sol…’
‘Diera, it’s all right. This is what I do. Did.’
‘Remember you aren’t thirty any more.’
‘Just take Jonas and run. And be careful on the ropes. Raven, hide where you can back me in a hurry. I know we wouldn’t normally lower ourselves to such tactics but today I make an exception for any underhand attack from the rear without warning. All these Garonin have to go down. You all know the attack signal.’
Ilkar took no weapon but hid himself on a narrow ledge behind a wall that was to hold a dormer window. Sol heard him begin to mutter as he attempted to draw mana from the chaos around him. Sirendor picked up a crowbar, hefted it in one hand and picked up a cement trowel in the other. He moved forward of Sol and crouched by a group of three barrels.
Hirad picked up a pickaxe, smiled and lay flat behind a stack of wooden beams to Sol’s right, pulling a canvas sheet over his body. Thraun had not yet returned but Sol was in no doubt that the dead shapechanger was keeping an eye on them. He looked forward to a few wolves entering the fight.
The Garonin, just as Sirendor had said, had dropped briefly out of sight, forced to take a slightly different path due to the collapse of the building through which The Raven had escaped. Sol could hear them though, their heavy footsteps like metal sheets clanging together, the impact of their jump landings echoing against the surrounding blank, deserted buildings.
‘I hope my hip stands up to this,’ he muttered.
‘I think you’ll find it’s your head they’ll be aiming at,’ came a voice from beneath the canvas.
‘Thank you, Hirad. Here they come.’
Sol tensed. The risks of his strategy became depressingly apparent and his words to Diera sounded awfully hollow. Eight giant soldiers in full body armour landed on the roof in a semicircle around him and began to close, their weapons trained exactly as Hirad had said.
Sol hefted the shovel, patting the shaft into his open left palm. The Garonin closed, stopping only when they could almost reach out and touch him. Weapons dropped very slightly. Diera and Jonas were way too close but getting more distant with every passing moment.
‘Fascinating weapons,’ he said. ‘You must show me round one.’
‘Sol,’ said a voice full of beguiling melody. ‘How disappointing. You stand alone. All your subjects have deserted you.’
Sol shifted his feet, taken aback. ‘You. You’re joking with me? I killed you.’
‘Not so. Some among you are fascinating and worthy of some small investigation to further our knowledge of your world. You are one such. No other has demonstrated understanding and belief. No other has been able to leave our domain by an act of self-will.’
‘Your domain? I’ve heard from several reliable sources that it is no one’s domain but a transit to everywhere. A place you have infiltrated and where you can be beaten.’
Sol considered he might have shown too much of his hand.
‘The risk of such an eventuality is small. But we do not deal in small, we deal in nil. And so your journey ends here, Sol. As it will for all your people in this city, your other major population centres and for those you think are escaping beyond your western mountain range.’
Sol’s face must have betrayed him. One of the Garonin cocked his head.
‘Did you think we were not aware of those running west? Elves mostly. We concede that your people are brave and resourceful. We concede that we underestimated you and have been forced to move our vydospheres into the air, an inefficient use of vydos that we cannot afford but one that conserves our equipment.’
‘So why are you talking to me? If you intend to wipe us out, why bother to tell me all about it? Seems a waste of time.’
‘Not for us. Respect is a ritual.’
‘But all rituals are finite, aren’t they?’
Sol tapped the blade of the shovel on the ground, once, twice, three times.
‘It is time,’ said the concerted voices of the Garonin.
‘Yes.’ Sol ceased tapping the shovel. ‘Time for you to meet The Raven.’
Chapter 28
