tore into the air. Blackthorne followed his path which criss-crossed the town. He would pause occasionally, dart to the edges of the lattice, sniff and back away. But largely it was a frenzied movement, desperate. When he landed again, his rage was almost too intense for him to speak. His skin was a pulsing, roiling bright blue.
'Where have you hidden them?' he managed.
'My dear Fidget,' said Blackthorne calmly and quietly. 'I assure you they are gone from here. My, it's as if you were scared of diem being outside your control.'
And there it was. Just what Blackthorne had been hoping to see. A flicker across Ferouc's eyes and a trembling through his body. Fear. The first time any of them had seen it but unmistakable nevertheless.
'You will pay dearly for this.'
'Really? Going to kill more of the already-dead, are you? Please. There is nothing you can do to hurt us further. But we have released The Raven and there is much they can do to hurt you. The world is turning, Fidget, and you have been found wanting.'
With a second shriek, Ferouc was gone, high into the sky, calling his cohorts to him.
'See that?' Blackthorne pointed at the fast-receding figure. 'That is why we must fight on. Fidget knows as well as we do what The Raven represent. We've been divided and kept weak. The Raven can unite us and they fear that more than anything.
'Now, I think you should prepare those under your command. I imagine things might get a little warm around here.'
For fifteen days, the Calaian Sun sailed the southern, eastern and finally northern coasts of Balaia. The view from the starboard rail was endlessly striking and beguiling. Untamed landscapes, stark cliffs and glorious expanses of white sand studded the coastline with the promise of much more beyond.
Not that The Raven saw a great deal of it between dawn and dusk. Darrick put them through a punishing regime of exercise as tough as that to which Lysternan cavalry recruits had been exposed in years gone by.
He had them spar for hours with their new maces; relay-race with weighted barrels; and climb the mainmast rigging using just their
hands. He had them swim laps around the ship when the wind was light; he cut lengths of rope for skipping and pressed longboat oars into service as group exercise poles. It wasn't with a view to bringing great gains in their speed and endurance but for them to test themselves, feel the state of their bodies and give them just a little more sharpness.
And unlike in years gone by, he participated in every exercise, putting himself through extra rounds if he felt he was below standard. And while he drove them as hard as he could, he watched them, fascinated. They grumbled as he knew they had to but every task was undertaken with enormous energy, spirit and determination. They fed off each other. If the battles to come could be won by sheer will alone, they would be unstoppable.
Individually, though, he had his concerns about them. Besides himself, Hirad had remained very fit. His time with Auum and Rebraal had dictated that. But that couldn't hide the fact that he was not a long way from forty years old and just not as fast as he used to be.
The Unknown Warrior's problem wasn't so much his forty-two years but the long-term degradation of his left hip following his hideous injury on the docks at Arlen over three years before. It stiffened quickly in the chill water and relay-running had him limping from early on. That and the inevitable softening gained from two years' easy living on Herendeneth. It was the difference between farming fit and fighting fit and it could prove fatal.
Thraun looked and acted no different. Quiet, withdrawn at times and without an ounce of excess bodyweight. Life on Calaius had clearly suited him.
But Denser and Erienne worried him the most. Their contentment at being back where they truly belonged, in the bosom of The Raven, was undermined by their awareness of the situation. It wasn't that they were unwilling; they would quickly become as fit and capable as ever if allowed the time. It was that he could see in their eyes that they simply weren't ready. Not for the task ahead, not to put their lives at risk as a daily habit and not to accept the responsibility that had been thrust upon them.
And Erienne was clearly struggling to make sense of what she was required to do. It drew her attention away, took her edge.
Darrick knew he could rely utterly on the elves. And the Protectors still maintained their aura of confidence, inscrutable even without their masks. No, the problems all lay at the heart of the operation, with The Raven themselves.
He spoke to The Unknown Warrior every evening and the big man listened. He spoke candidly about his hip, but like all of The Raven was far more concerned about his friends than himself.
'Everyone needs to understand the reality of their situation and limitations,' Darrick had said one evening. 'And that includes you just as it includes me.'
'I'll be all right.'
'That's exactly the problem, Unknown. Until you accept that you're not twenty-one any more, you'll be taking too much risk.'
'You think I don't know that?' said The Unknown Warrior.
'Judging by what I see out there under exercise, no,' replied Darrick. 'Don't get me wrong. We're an extraordinary team. The weapon skills are still there, the belief is undimmed and the will is staggering. But it's been two years since Julatsa and our stamina is not what it was. That's why we struggled after the short fight the other day. We aren't used to that exertion and it showed. The trouble is, you all still act like you fight every day. You don't conserve because you've never had to.
'You asked me to do this, Unknown. Now listen to what I'm saying. You're the one who has to relate this to the rest of The Raven. And you-know-who isn't going to like it.'
'Thanks for reminding me.'
'We haven't got time for tact,' said Darrick.
'Hirad's never thought so.'
'Then he should respect what you tell him.'
'You know, Darrick, that is no help whatsoever.'
The Catalan Sun dropped anchor in the quiet waters of Triverne Inlet on a chill but sunlit morning. All eyes scanned the eastern shore, searching for signs of demon activity. They found none, keen elven sight revealing only late spring growth in a peaceful landscape. From the shore, Hirad watched the ship take sail and turn for the open sea once more. Jevin took vital messages home with him for the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar. Should The Raven fail and Balaia's colleges fall to the demons, the elves would have to prepare for invasion.
Hirad turned to them, assembled on the sandy beach.
'This is it, then,' he said. T still think we should be coming with you to Julatsa.'
Rebraal shook his head. 'You know what was discussed. The cursyrd want you. You'll endanger us all in there.' He smiled. 'Besides, we're quicker without you. See you at the lake.'
'Don't be late.' Hirad hugged Ilkar's brother and clasped hands with each of the TaiGethen then finally, Eilaan. 'Remember why we're doing this.'
The elves ran away towards Julatsa and were soon lost to sight. Hirad felt exposed without them.
'Come on, Raven,' he said. 'We can make the lake by tomorrow nightfall if we sail through the night.'
The Raven returned to the longboat which had been fitted with a single mast for their journey along the River Tri. With packs already stowed under the gunwales and benches, they were under way quickly. The atmosphere, as it had been outside Blackthorne, was oppressive. Only the sound of the breeze rusding reeds and grass came over the gende burble of the water against the timbers of the hull. Balaia was dying meekly.
Despite being unlikely to encounter any demons in countryside bare of all but scattered farms and hamlets, they kept very quiet throughout the trip, resting as much as possible. Thraun in wolven form scouted ahead periodically, giving them extra security.
The Unknown took his time to watch The Raven during this curiously peaceful interlude. Despite his own concerns and those raised more recendy by Darrick, he felt happier with the tightness he saw around him now. Two years apart had dulled them without question but their time aboard ship had rekindled their spirit of togetherness. But what they had to guard against was over-confidence in the fight. Looking across at Hirad, it was not a conversation he was looking forward to having. He'd save it for Triverne Lake. Now was not the time.
'We all feeling all right?' he asked.
Darrick raised a thumb from his position on the tiller. Erienne and Denser, sitting together and talking in
