and crackling over Ilkar’s shield. It held. It always did.
In the afterglow of the spells, the runners saw their plight all too plainly. One threw a bag to another, the mage. He stood stock-still, desperately trying to cast. His three companions gathered in front of him as the TaiGethen tore into them. The first leapt high, left leg snapping out, taking his opponent in the chest. The man staggered back, sword swiping at empty air. The TaiGethen drove through his unbalanced guard, piercing his neck. The second and third elves flung jaqrui. They were knocked aside but their targets were distracted. With incredible swiftness, the TaiGethen blades whipped in. The expanding slick of blood was black in the moonlight.
ShadowWings sprouted at the mage’s back. He shot skywards, a laugh of relief on his lips. Jaqrui wailed after him, none finding its target. He turned in the air, flying for the enemy line.
‘Damn!’ yelled Hirad.
Behind him, a bowstring twanged. The arrow speared the mage between his shoulder blades. He juddered forward and shouted briefly, arms clawing reflexively at his back. His wings vanished and he fell, momentum taking him just beyond the swamp edge. No-man’s-land.
Hirad turned. ‘Good shooting.’
The smile was back on Ren’s face but there was no time for self-congratulation.
‘We must have that bag,’ said Rebraal in halting Balaian.
He set off, TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar two hundred yards behind him but sprinting through the swamp and gaining quickly. ‘Leave the water,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Piranha.’
But The Raven were already chasing after him. Hirad saw more arrows arc towards them and the elves from the estuary defenders. HotRain fell from the sky. Here was where it would happen. The sides closed on each other, the mage’s body marking where the lines would clash.
‘Watch that left flank!’ he shouted as he raced on, sword raised high, running for the enemy.
Erys hadn’t the stamina to cast Communion again but ClearSight was far more simple. He’d related to Yron everything he could see through the darkness. TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar were on both sides of the Shorth, some closing in behind them now. As Yron had hoped, their reserve force was spread across the entrance to the estuary, unfortunately split by the Shorth and its channels, but so were the elves.
Yron, Erys and the miraculously still living Ben-Foran were an agonising three hundred yards from safety in the hands of the reserve. But Yron smelled a trap and he’d been alive too long to ignore his instincts. He put a hand on Erys’s shoulder, staying the mage, who was preparing to run in.
‘Wait,’ he said.
‘But . . .’
‘Wait,’ he repeated. ‘This isn’t the stroll it seems. Trust me.’
Almost at once he was proved right. A commotion on the other side of the Shorth shattered the relative peace of the rainforest. They could hear footsteps splashing through water and the shouts of men and elves. Arrows and spells flew, the TaiGethen pounced, panthers sounded from every angle. The ClawBound were near.
Erys grabbed Yron’s shoulder and pointed into the sky.
‘Stenys,’ he breathed.
Yron followed his arm and saw the mage climbing into the sky. ‘Go on.’ Yron clenched a fist. ‘Go on.’
Stenys wheeled and moved towards the estuary, getting higher all the time. Jaqrui wailed but missed. Yron’s heart beat harder.
‘Nearly there,’ he whispered. ‘Shit!’
He saw the arrow plunge into Stenys’s back. Saw him fall from the sky and saw the elves move towards his body. Erys’s grip on his shoulder slackened.
‘Sorry, Erys.’
Erys shook his head. ‘So close.’
‘And we’ll get closer still. Our chance is very soon.’
Yron focussed on the coming battle. He knew there were Al-Arynaar very close but in the confusion they might just get enough of a head start. If their luck held. He smiled grimly. This would not be a good time for it to falter.
The reserve waited, just as they should. Hidden from view. Arrows and spells arced into the moonlit night. He saw flaring as shields took the brunt of the magic and explosions on the ground where the Orbs fell directly to earth. Behind him he thought he could sense something but he couldn’t see any movement. Perhaps the elves this side of the Shorth were distracted. He had to hope so.
With a clash of steel, the two forces met. It had to be now or never.
‘Ready, Ben?’ Ben-Foran was propped against a tree. He looked dog-tired but nodded anyway.
‘Erys, you’re flying.’
‘No, sir. I’m carrying. I don’t have the stamina or the nerve for wings anyway.’