Hirad held up a hand. ‘Ren, put your bow on him. Don’t shoot,’ he said before turning to Selik. ‘Actually, we’re just debating whether to surrender or go down in a blaze of glory. You can attack now if you want but you’re first to die, Selik, and we’ll see fifty of your men go with us. Or you can wait and maybe we’ll all stay alive.’
And he turned his back on their captor, who just shook his head at the Black Wings’ questioning glances. ‘Be quick about it. I am impatient for your surrender.’
Erienne looked square at Selik and put a finger to her lips, feeling the voices of ancients in her head. Something flooded from her across the space to the Black Wing captain. She wasn’t sure she was in control of it but she knew it had worked.
‘Wait,’ she whispered. ‘Wait.’
‘Erienne?’ asked Denser.
‘Just buying us a few heartbeats. It’ll wear off momentarily.’
None of the Black Wing soldiers was moving. The sounds of the world about them had faded. It was as if they were standing in a painting, looking at still life.
Hirad hadn’t noticed the change. ‘Are you helping us, Ilkar?’
‘Look,’ replied Ilkar. ‘I’m dying already. But we needn’t all go. I can make the difference you need.’
‘You’re staying with us and we’re getting you out of this,’ said Hirad. ‘We’ll get the thumb and stop the plague.’
‘Hirad, you don’t understand. There is no cure. I’ve got Elfsorrow and I will die of it. All you can do is stop more catching it. And I’d rather die trying to save my friends.’
Hirad felt stunned. He’d assumed there was hope. He’d come charging in here because he could still save Ilkar. And now he found he couldn’t.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ he said.
‘Would it have made any difference?’
‘Probably not.’
‘So I’m going to do this.’
‘What?’ asked Hirad.
‘Ilkar’s suggesting a focussed backfire,’ said Erienne. ‘He can form the shape of a spell like FlameOrbs then detonate it within himself. And because the shape is within him, it will hold together for longer and draw in far more energy than it should.’
‘But how . . . ?’ began Hirad.
‘I’ll have to be high up.’
‘No way,’ said Hirad. ‘No way. There has to be another answer.’
‘Hirad, there isn’t.’ Ilkar clutched his arm. ‘Please let me do this. It’s all I’ve got left.’
The reality hit Hirad like a hammer. His grip on his blade weakened and he let it fall. The thump was unnaturally loud on the packed ground.
‘That’s better,’ said Selik from behind them.
The sudden resumption of reality made Erienne jump. She wanted to repeat the casting but realised immediately she didn’t actually know how. There was so much she still had to learn.
‘Shut the fuck up, Black Wing,’ grated Hirad, not turning. ‘You can’t die, Ilkar. You were there at the start. We can’t do this without you.’
‘You don’t have any choice,’ said Ilkar. ‘I am dying and you can’t save me.’
Hirad fought to keep himself together. They were in a desperate situation already and Ilkar had just made it worse. He couldn’t afford to lose control now. He set his jaw.
‘Please, Ilkar, don’t.’
‘I have to,’ said Ilkar. ‘Goodbye, Hirad.’
‘No.’ Hirad could feel his throat tighten.
‘You have always been my closest friend,’ said the elf. ‘Don’t forget me.’
Hirad looked around at them all, their desperate faces. At the tears flowing down Ren’s cheeks as she fought to keep her aim, not daring to turn round. He felt the briefest of kisses on his cheek, saw Ilkar caress Ren’s head, heard an incantation and then he was gone, shooting up straight into the sky.
‘Get back down here!’ shouted Hirad. ‘Ilkar, no!’
Arrows followed Ilkar skywards, none of them even close to their target.
‘What’s this?’ Selik’s voice was laden with sarcasm. ‘The Raven flying away, are they, Hirad? Those that can. Some bond.’ He laughed.
Hirad would have pitched after him then but The Unknown had a strong hand on his shoulder.
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Soon.’
Hirad craned his head high. Everyone in the compound was doing the same. He watched as the elf manoeuvred himself above a parapet and ten archers, underneath which upwards of fifteen soldiers stood ready.
‘Ilkar!’ called Hirad. ‘Fly away. Please fly away.’
But the words caught in his throat. He leaned into The Unknown, felt the big man’s hand tighten and waited.
Above the compound Ilkar hovered, the pain in his stomach excruciating and threatening his concentration.
‘Just one more time,’ he said to himself. ‘Just one more time.’