showers of rain.
Jevin had ordered full sail and they were moving well across the ocean, trailing the Ocean Elm by several hours though Hirad could still make out its shape on the southern horizon.
'Why is he still going south?' asked Hirad.
'Because he's showing us the way,' said Ren. 'And when we can't sail any further in, he'll let us know if he can and we'll have to take to the boats.'
'And if he doesn't let us know?' asked Hirad.
'I won't let this ship run aground,' said Ren.
'And neither will I,' growled Jevin.
'How long do we have to go?' asked Ilkar.
'Three days, maybe a little more. We lost time last night,' said Ren.
'Think I might sleep the rest of the way, then,' said Hirad, smiling.
'You deserve to,' said Ilkar.
'You too, Ilks. Good fun, though, wasn't it?'
Ilkar stared at him for a moment. 'No, it wasn't. Unless you consider searching black, heavy seas for a fool in the dead of night, after a scrap on a ship miles from nowhere, good fun. What the hell were you doing in the water anyway? I almost had you and you sank, messing about with your scabbard.'
T was sheathing my sword.'
'Oh, how stupid of me not to realise. Why didn't you just drop the bloody thing? You could have drowned,' said Ilkar. His voice softened and he punched Hirad on the arm. T thought you had. Don't take that sort of risk. I don't want to lose you like that.'
'I'm not losing that sword until I've driven it through Selik,' said Hirad.
'Think you'll get the chance?' asked Ren.
T know it,' said Hirad.
The window in the bedroom blew in and Aviana screamed, her anguish echoing through the minds of all the Al-Drechar. Myriell had been dressing, preparing to take over as the dawn broke but now they were all awake, thrust to consciousness by a cry for help that went on and on. Myriell called for her helpers and they ran into her room.
'Get me there now. Carry me and run. Bring the others.'
'Yes, Myriell,' said one. The two picked her up in an armchair lift and hurried from the room, calling others from their beds.
The wind howled along the passages, driven by Lyanna's mind, blasting into their faces. To their right an enormous crashing resounded in the air and across the orchard the west wing of the house shuddered and dropped, the roof Caving in, wooden beams splitting, brickwork shattering and tumbling, the vibrations rocking the ground beneath their feet.
'Dear Gods, she's broken free. Faster, faster!' urged Myriell.
The Guild elves ran on though the ballroom and into the dining room, not pausing on their way to Lyanna's makeshift bedroom. They set Myriell down and opened the door into a howling gale. Aviana lay on the ground, Lyanna was upright, her hair twisting about her head, her doll clutched in her outstretched hands and her eyes open but seeing nothing.
'Get the others here!' shouted Myriell.
She moved into the room, sat on the edge of the bed and clutched the little girl to her, attuning her mind and eyes to the mana spectrum and seeing the horror laid out for her there.
Surrounding Aviana was a mass of dark grey, pulsing over her mind, attacking relentlessly, pushed there by what force Myriell couldn't begin to guess. Something malevolent lurked deep in Lyanna and it had to be found and destroyed. The girl's mind was encased in orange, flecked with dark brown. She appeared to be channelling perfectly, dragging in the random fuel of magic, creating vortex shapes and casting them out in a stream of destruction.
Myriell formed a light mind net and moved it gingerly towards Lyanna, hoping to separate her from the force attacking the helpless Aviana. She dimly heard movement behind her, knew her sister was helping, and pushed on. She got nowhere near. The moment Lyanna sensed her, coils of orange mana lashed out from the whole, slapping away the mind net and dragging in its mana energy. Myriell dispersed it moments before the unravelling reached her own damaged mind and snapped out of the spectrum, her head thumping, her vision ragged at the edges.
Lyanna pushed against her and Myriell released her. The child was
looking at her intently, recognition in her eyes. Myriell almost shouted and then Lyanna spoke.
'Hello Myra. Why are you keeping me in the dark place?' It was the child's voice but it was laced with foreboding and echoed through the room on the back of the gale.
'Oh, Lyanna, we aren't keeping you there, your mind has taken you there and we are guarding it to stop you being hurt.'
'But I don't want to be in the dark any more,' said Lyanna, clutching her doll close and stroking its head.
Myriell frowned. Her Night wasn't over. There was no calmness in the mana. Her control only went as far as stopping hurt to her own mind. What she released she had no way of understanding or controlling. She should still be under, learning, modulating and accepting.
'But you know you can't stop the wind in your mind, don't you? I know being in the dark place is lonely but it will help you to be happy.'
But Lyanna shook her head. 'No. Ana wanted me to stay and I didn't and something from me hurt her.' Tears rolled down her cheeks. T don't want to hurt anyone. So I don't want you to be with me in my mind any more.'
Myriell looked round. Ephemere was deep in concentration around Aviana's too-still form but Cleress was watching her and could only shrug in mute incomprehension.
'And anyway,' continued Lyanna, 'Mummy's coming soon and I have to brush my hair.'
She swung her legs out of the bed, then dropped to the floor and walked out into the dining room, the doll in one hand. Myriell watched her go.
'Clerry?' she pleaded.
'I don't know, Myra. I think we've lost her.'
Deep in the Southern Ocean, two hundred miles off Balaia's southern coast the seabed cracked and moved, sending pressures to the surface the like of which hadn't been felt for a thousand years. They surged upwards, creating a single, mountain-high wave backed by many lesser waves, minions in the wake of majesty.
The wave rushed northwards, an unstoppable force a dozen miles
wide. It moved effortlessly across the ocean, its noise thunderous, its energy undiminishing. Beneath it, water shifted on the sea bed, creatures large and small fled behind it and swam from its influence as it stormed on, looking for a place to break. That place was Gyer-nath. The water towered over the land as it came, like a predatory animal preparing to strike down at its prey.
The port had sea defences, the finest of any port in Balaia. They were built to deflect the ferocity of the waves the winter gales threw up and to channel the floods from the town's streets and outlying fields. They were the pride of the port's council leaders. But no defences could hope to counter a wave a hundred and fifty feet high and a half mile deep.
By the time they had begun to run, it was already too late for the townspeople. And by the time the last ship had been dashed against the ground at the top of Drovers Way, almost a mile inland, there was nobody left at all.
The Calaian Sun drove on through the steadily calming waters of the Southern Ocean, two days out from the first islands of the Ornouth Archipelago. The mood on board had lightened considerably. Blue sky had been seen through breaks in the clouds, the winds had become steady and dependable from the west and the hail was a distant, painful memory. They were keeping pace with the Ocean Elm, Jevin convinced that the skipper was dragging his heels, and the break in the elemental battering gave rise to real hope that the Al-Drechar had exerted real control over Lyanna.
Hirad lay alone in the cabin he and Ilkar shared, the elf up top and actually enjoying a sea voyage for the
