But still he stood in the middle of the line, waiting for them. Still the ColdRoom was in operation and he could take some of them with him. He heard timbers splinter and the sound of karron feet tramping down the stairs. He knew Ferouc would be behind them, far enough to avoid harm himself.
The first hammer on the kitchen door sprang a hinge but the second barely made an indent. The third was more a gentle knock
and there was no fourth. He heard squawks and shrieks echo about his castle. And then he heard nothing at all.
He took a pace towards the door and stopped, wondering how long it would be before he dared believe that they had won.
Hirad found that there was light. It came in from the fires surrounding the entrance to the edifice and from those that still burned around the mouths of the dead Kaan dragons. He opened his eyes against the gale. The conduit demons were screaming in terror that had no end. Their bodies were being stretched into the arc that joined them. Little by little, they were picked apart. Their heads distended, their legs split and their bodies twisted and elongated. How they still lived he didn't care but that sound they made cut him right to the bone and he prayed for it to stop.
From the gap he heard a sucking sound. Above, the darkened canopy bowed inwards, its centre drew closer and closer to the gap. It touched and shattered and for a moment the room was filled with a dazzling light. The conduit demons wailed their last and were sucked into the arc which fed at dizzying speed into the canopy which in turn was snapped up by the gap. The howling of the wind reached a crescendo, then with a bass thud that slammed through Hirad's skull the gap closed.
He lay where he was for a moment, listening to the sound of his heart and feeling the energy drain from his body. He had no more to give but then, there was no more he had to give. And yet he felt no joy, no victory. Instead he felt cheated. They had closed the path to Balaia and cut off the demons' power. The mana would dissipate through the Balaian dimension and the demons would not be able to sustain themselves for long. The Raven had saved their world and yet for them there was nothing. Sha-Kaan was silent.
It wasn't right.
Hirad dragged himself to a sitting position and let his eyes become accustomed to the darkness. There was movement around him and the sound of sobbing near him. He pushed himself to his feet and found The Unknown helping him up. He swayed. Blood was running from his face, his hands, his left shoulder and his right leg. The big man was in little better condition. He limped heavily and reaver claws had left his right ear flapping and pumping blood.
But it was as nothing to Erienne. She lay sprawled at the scene of her triumph. Denser was sitting at her bloodied head, stroking her face, and the shake in his shoulders told him everything. He knew he should move to comfort the Xeteskian but he couldn't bring himself to break into his grief. Perhaps it was better that way.
'We won, then,' he said to The Unknown.
The big man shook his head. 'No, Hirad, we lost. Balaia won. We have nothing. And Denser has lost everything.'
Around them, people were forcing themselves to their feet. Auum supported Evunn who was clearly barely conscious. Thraun was staring at Erienne, his head shaking, his lips moving in denial and his feet taking him gradually closer to grim truth. Ark was wobbling on his feet but found Rebraal's shoulder on which to lean. All of them gravitated slowly to Erienne and Denser.
Hirad could see her stillness. Her eyes closed and her chest unmoving. She lay on her back, her arms thrown above her head.
'I'm so sorry, Denser,' he said.
Denser didn't move. 'Not you as well,' he whispered. 'Not you as well.'
They all spun at a sudden infuriated din from outside. Hirad's heart pounded anew. The noise grew and grew, the voices screaming revenge, promising purgatory.
'Not again,' said Thraun.
'What did we expect?' said The Unknown.
Karron, albino, reaver and master walked, flew or floated into the edifice. Strike-strain buzzed around them. The mass grew and grew. They advanced across a floor wide and unblemished. They took their time. After all, The Raven had nowhere to run.
'We have to keep fighting,' Hirad said. 'Sha-Kaan might still be able to save us. If he can make it back to Beshara he can open the portal to me. We can make it.'
But those that faced him plainly did not believe him. They couldn't conceive of hope, they just wanted rest. And even as he uttered the words he didn't really believe them himself. Demons were crowding the space and Sha-Kaan was going to be too late.
He glanced over his shoulder. 'Sleep well, Erienne. Best you didn't live to see this.'
Chapter 46
Tessaya shuddered under the blow from the hammer limb, pushing it aside with the flat of his axe. He was running with sweat despite the frost of late evening. He drew in another exhausted breath and worked his axe back, fending off the spike from the same karron. The creature writhed its pincers, looking for a hold. A blade flashed across in front of him, severing the sinuous limb. The strike continued up, connecting with a reaver diving overhead.
Tessaya pulled his axe back across his body and buried it in the ul-karron neck. He glanced sideways and nodded his thanks to Suarav. The old soldier still stood though he had no right to. A spike had torn a gash in his left shoulder and reaver claws had dragged the armour from his back, missing his soul by a hair. He had refused to leave the line and rest. Tessaya could see his point. The end was upon them. Better to die in defence than be taken in your sleep.
More karron, backed by reavers and a cloud of strike-strain, were heading through the main wall breach. They crowded behind those already pressing against his faltering warriors. The ul-karron had wreaked dreadful havoc, weakening even their traditionally indomitable spirit. Tessaya opened his mouth and began to sing again.
He battered his axe through the next karron attack, taking off both pincer and spike limb. His song was taken up by throats all around the college. It was a song of defiance that spoke of endurance and the glory of death. It didn't allow for fear.
Tessaya raised his blade to strike again. A flaming body fell screeching from the sky, landing among the karron just ahead of him. Even through the curtain of fire, he recognised Drenoul. For a moment, the attack faltered. The demon master's squeals upset their rhythm, disrupting the flow of calls from the reavers.
Tessaya didn't care why Drenoul had died. He saw opportunity.
Yelling a forward order he ploughed into the confused enemy. The karron, dull of mind, had stalled completely.
His axe swung, taking the head from an enemy. He used the purity of the cut to set up an unstoppable rhythm of pace and strike. Spells erupted outside of the college, mages taking advantage of the moment.
The Wesmen roared, sensing the change. They advanced quickly, chopping through an enemy that didn't back off before them. Overhead, reavers circled but their calls were altered. It couldn't just be put down to Drenoul's death.
Tessaya paused and stepped back, wiping gore from his face. He took a breath. Around him, his lieutenants signalled the halt. Overhead the wind picked up, blowing around the courtyard. Abruptly, the slit in the sky guttered. A green light flashed within the white. The wind blew harder, like the gales of the One magic. But only for an instant. With a report like the crack of an avalanche breaking, the slit blanked out.
Silence but for the sound of reaver wings. It lasted only for a few heartbeats before the winged demons set up mournful cries. They spiralled skywards towards the glorious emptiness that had been the basis of their power. They cried in panic and loss, flocked with the strike-strain and keened across the heavens rudderless.
In front of Tessaya the karron stood mute. Limbs hung limp, resting on the ground. Eyes were dim and confused. He could hear their rasping breathing. They didn't even have the sense to try and run. Around the college, his warriors engaged in slaughter. Songs of triumph reverberated around the grounds. Chants of victory,
