‘We have been over this a hundred times. Too much could go wrong.’
‘We are dying, Aenarion. Soon there will be none of us left to oppose Chaos. We have tried your way. It has not worked. The forces of Chaos are stronger now than they were the day you passed through the Flame.’
‘That is not my fault, wizard.’
‘No, but it is the truth.’
‘So you seek my permission to try your plan?’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘We have begun.’
‘You dare to do this when I have forbidden it?’
‘You are our leader, Aenarion. We are not your slaves. The time has come for a last throw of the dice.’
‘I will decide when that is to be.’
‘It is too late for anything else, Phoenix King. If it is not done now, it will not be done at all. The forces against us will be too strong. Perhaps they already are.’
‘If you have decided to defy my will, why bother telling me?’
‘Because the daemons sense our purpose and try to stop us, and we do not have the strength to prevent them.’
‘So you want me and mine to protect you, in spite of your defiance.’
‘We are all one people. This will be the last stand of the elves. If you do not wish to be there, that is your choice.’
‘There will be other battles.’
‘No. This will be the last. If our spell goes wrong the fault lines beneath Ulthuan will be torn apart, the continent will sink, drowning our enemies. Perhaps the whole world will end.’
‘And yet you will still proceed.’
‘There is no other choice, Aenarion. You told me once that mine was the counsel of despair and that you would find another way to win this war. Have you done so?’
He wanted to cast the mage’s words back into his teeth but he was too proud and too honest to do so. He shook his head.
‘Will you come to the Isle of the Dead? We need you.’
‘I will consider it.’
‘Do not consider too long, Phoenix King.’
Caledor put his hands together and bowed and vanished. Morathi’s eyes snapped open and she screamed.
He turned to look at his wife. She stared at him as if looking at a ghost.
‘You are not dead, thank all the gods,’ she said.
‘Apparently not,’ he said.
‘Do not joke about such things, Aenarion. You know I see the future and tonight in my dreams I had a vision. A battle is coming. If you take part in it you will die.’
‘So?’
‘If you leave my side, you will die.’
He stared at her hard, wanting to ask her how she knew and not daring to because he feared the answer and what he would have to do if she gave it.
Morathi had studied the ways of their enemies for a very long time, and, he suspected, far too closely. There were times when he was not sure where her true loyalties lay. He only knew that she looked at him, as he looked at her, with a mixture of lust, respect, hatred and anger. It was a potent, heady brew that had fuelled many memorable days and more memorable nights.
‘Everyone dies,’ he told her.
‘I will not,’ she said with certainty. ‘And your son Malekith will not. And if you listen to me, you will not either. If you go today you forfeit immortality. Stay with me and live forever.’ She stretched out her hand in entreaty. It seemed for a moment as if she were actually going to beg. She would not ever do that. And yet...
‘That is not possible,’ he said quickly, to break the spell of the moment.
‘You are the Phoenix King. Anything is possible for you.’
‘Whatever else I am, I am a warrior, and today may be the last battle the elves ever fight.’
‘You are going to help that fool Caledor with his insane plan.’ She was angry now. Rage did not make her ugly. It made her more beautiful and more dangerous. He stared at her, unintimidated. She had never frightened him. He suspected that intrigued her. He was probably the only one her rage had never daunted.
‘It is the only way we can win this war. I know that now,’ he said calmly, because he knew that would goad her more.
‘And I say to you, if you go, you will die.’
He shrugged and began donning his armour. As he fastened the clasps, he spoke the words that activated its dormant power. Titanic fields of protective magic shimmered into place around him. Potent spells amplified