Ravensoul (58 page)
‘There is no mana here. Not a breath.’
‘We don’t need your magic right now, we need your soul,’ said The Unknown.
‘I feel empty.’
‘Well, Thraun is going to feel pretty flat too in just a moment,’ said Hirad.
Ilkar nodded. He pushed himself wearily to his feet and stood with the three warriors. Arm in arm, they bowed their heads. Ilkar leaned gently into Hirad.
‘Good joke, by the way. Probably your first.’
‘Concentrate,’ snapped The Unknown. ‘Invest your faith in The Raven. Push out with your soul. Reach for Thraun. Reach for all The Raven dead. Remember Thraun. Loyal, great heart. Whether man or wolf, Raven born and ever one of us. Stand with us, Thraun. We need you. Fight with us.’
Hirad sensed them all deep within him. The bond they had shared when they lived intensified now they stood together as souls clad in memories. The warmth and strength it brought suffused him. He cast his mind out, visualising the corridor. He thought one word and pulsed it through his soul.
‘Remember.’
A wolf howled close by. The Raven quartet broke up. Thraun padded towards them, scenting the air. He was hunkered low as he came, semi-submissive and plainly anxious. Hirad moved to him, kneeling down in front of him.
‘You’re safe, Thraun. Among friends.’
‘Where are we?’ asked Sirendor.
‘Ulandeneth,’ said The Unknown.
‘I’ve been in some dull places but this beats them all,’ said Sirendor. ‘Which way is out?’
‘I don’t know. But we’re going to need more of us, to build the combined soul that has the power to sense our destination.’
Hirad looked at The Unknown and wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t want to doubt you or anything but how do you know that?’
‘I don’t. It’s a hunch. But feel us now, even with four and a wolf. You all came back to me, remember, and you were stronger when you were close to each other. Well nothing’s changed except I’m dead too. The Garonin have tried to get to me twice now. There’s something I can do alongside The Raven that bothers them. Something they can’t comprehend or control.’
Sol had begun walking. The others fell into step with him.
‘The Ravensoul,’ whispered Ilkar. ‘They don’t possess souls. It’s our one advantage up here.’
Hirad rubbed his hands over his face. ‘Have any of you taken a look about? There’s nothing here. I mean, I don’t see a whole line of doors, do you? Where are we headed, exactly?’
The Unknown spread his hands.
‘Come on, Hirad, you can’t be that literal. For one thing, everything is here, we just can’t see it yet. And for another, there was never going to be a line of doors, was there? This isn’t one of Korina’s filthy brothels.’
‘Well all right then, smart-arse. What are we looking for?’
The Unknown rounded on him. ‘I do not need your quick mouth and slow brain in my ear, Hirad. And aren’t these questions I should be asking you? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I died at your behest, you and the rest of The Raven, to help you find a new resting place. Right, well I’m here. You tell me what’s next. All the time we delay, the Garonin are slaughtering our people. So either make a positive comment or shut up.’
‘If that’s the way you want it.’
Hirad turned and wandered away in another direction.
‘Gods drowning, Coldheart, you can be such a child,’ said Ilkar.
Hirad’s frustration boiled over. He stalked back among them and none of them would catch his eye.
‘Think I want to be here in this miserable wilderness walking from one blank space to another? Seems to me I’m the only one brave enough to ask a few tricky questions. Sorry if I ask them in the wrong way but that’s me, isn’t it? None of us is real, all right? We do all know we’re not really standing here looking ten years younger than when we died and in our old armour, don’t we?
‘I mean, we’re here, but this is all a figment of memory or something like that. It has to be. I’ve just killed three Garonin with this sword and I don’t want to think too hard about how that could possibly be. After all, they were actually alive, they actually bled and lost limbs, and I’m just a floating soul. Is anyone else finding this just a little bit odd? And that’s even though it is unbelievable to be standing with you, fighting with you and arguing with you, and I never want it to end.
‘The fact is that none of you has the first fucking clue what to do, have you? We’ve lost all the dead we came with. We can’t help the living by standing with them any more and we haven’t even got an enemy to fight. I’m happy to admit I do not know what we are supposed to do here. The rest of you seem to be relying on blind faith. Stupid. It really is.
‘Well. Has any one of you got anything to say?’
Hirad’s voice boomed around them as if they were in an enclosed space. Ilkar and Sirendor both looked at their boots. Thraun was prone, watching Hirad’s outburst with his head cocked to one side and ears pricked right up. The Unknown had stopped his march too. He didn’t turn for a while and Hirad saw him shaking his head. When finally he faced Hirad there was a smile broad enough to relax the most tense of muscles. He walked to the barbarian, took the sides of his face in his hands and kissed his forehead.
‘And I love you too, Unknown, but I think the others will get jealous that you only have lips for me.’
‘Hirad, as usual, in your random and confused fashion, you have come up with the answer.’
‘I have?’ Hirad raised his eyebrows. ‘Care to point me at the cleverest bit of what I said?’
‘Shouldn’t be too hard,’ said Ilkar. ‘It’ll stick out like a mage at a Black Wing party.’
‘Actually, it’s most of what you said in one way or another,’ said Sol. ‘But, in a nutshell, blind faith is exactly what it’s about. Look, they had me here once before tied to a chair and I couldn’t see the bonds. Only when I believed I could stand up was it possible to do so. Same as when I decided I wanted to come home. I had to know that was what I wanted above all else. And I had to visualise it to make it happen. This is a place beyond life or death. It’s both and neither. Stop believing and you’ll fade. Believe utterly and there’s nothing you can’t do.’
‘But it doesn’t get us to the door, does it?’ asked Hirad.
‘That’s because we’re trying to find it rather than let it bring us to it . . . Is anyone getting this?’
‘Yes, I think I am.’ Ilkar was scratching at an ear. ‘After all, when you die, you travel to the last resting place without thought, it’s just where you go. And when the Garonin threw us all out, we travelled back to Balaia in pretty much the same fashion, didn’t we? All of us drawn by Sol or Densyr, bless his Xeteskian intransigence. And what you’re saying is the same, isn’t it?’
‘That’s about the size of it.’ The Unknown frowned at Ilkar. ‘You all right?’
Ilkar shrugged. He was shivering. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘What, so we lie down, smoke something interesting and let it happen, is that right?’ said Hirad. ‘Bit dull, isn’t it?’
‘I’m sorry but you can’t always wade through rivers of blood, all right?’ said The Unknown. ‘And yes, we do let it happen in a sense but more along the lines of opening our souls to where the doorway is and then making our way to it.’
‘Open our souls to what? When I died, I travelled, just like Ilkar said. No choice. When I came back, I recognised you, Unknown, and could follow your soul all the way home. But this new place, we know nothing about it. It’s hidden from everyone and for a good reason, assuming it even exists. How do we open our souls to it?’
‘I’ll concede that’s a good question,’ said The Unknown. ‘Any thoughts?’
‘I’ve got another good question. What are they all doing?’
The Raven followed the direction of Sirendor’s index finger. Indistinct, like figures in a heat haze, were people. Quite a lot of them.
‘How long have they been there?’ asked The Unknown, already walking towards them.
‘Just caught them out of the corner of my eye,’ said Sirendor. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking it looks bad. If I’m right, Garonin can travel here at will but they are also sensitive to what happens here and are drawn to opportunity,’ said The Unknown.
‘Which is how they got into the Balaian cluster, you think?’ asked Ilkar.
‘No doubt about it.’
‘So, what are they drawn to this time?’ asked Sirendor.
The Unknown pursed his lips. Hirad’s soul was already crying out before he replied.
‘Big collection of souls in the corridor, Sirendor,’ said The Unknown. ‘Big enough to hold a lot of mana and attract a lot of attention if the Garonin turn up here.’
‘Auum,’ said Hirad, and he broke into a run. ‘Come on, Raven.’
Hirad heard the sound of their footsteps after him. Thraun loped easily by his side. Across the bleak land, Hirad could see the Garonin making deliberate progress, their long stride metronomic like the tapping of The Unknown’s blade. In the clearing haze he could make out well over thirty.
He scanned ahead of them. Dimly he thought he could see what looked like a structure of some kind. What was definitely there was a different quality of light. He upped his pace. Curious that he felt no breath in him. And strange that there was still a limit to how fast he could run. The limit of his memories, he assumed. Still, it would be good to reach a fight on the run and not be gulping in air when he got there.
‘Through the back of them or join Auum, if it is him?’ asked Sirendor as they ran.
‘We need to upset their attack,’ said The Unknown. ‘Ilkar, how’s it coming?’
‘Not so . . . well.’
Hirad glanced back. Ilkar was struggling. He looked as if he was running in thigh-deep mud and there was an odd quality to him, like he was shimmering or something. Hirad slid to a halt.
‘Unknown. Quickly!’ He grabbed Ilkar’s arm and made him stop. ‘Ilks. Come on, stop a moment.’
‘Need to . . . get attack. In . . .’
Ilkar stumbled and fell forward, sprawling on the ivory floor. Hirad’s eyes were drawn to his legs. His boots were gone and below the knee his legs seemed indistinct, grey beneath a shifting mist.
‘Stay with us, Ilkar,’ said The Unknown. ‘Sirendor, get here. Thraun!’
‘Can’t find anything,’ mumbled Ilkar. ‘No energy. My mind is cold.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Ilks,’ said Hirad. ‘We’re with you. Get your strength from us. It’ll come back.’
‘Listen to him,’ said The Unknown. Sirendor joined them and all placed hands on Ilkar’s body. It just seemed the natural thing to do. ‘We know you, Ilkar. We remember your sacrifice at Understone. We know how strong you are. Believe in yourself as we believe in you. The magic doesn’t matter. Your soul next to ours, that matters.’
Ilkar’s shivering began to subside and the shimmering that had encased his body cleared. His boots reformed slowly over his ankles and feet. Thraun trotted up and nuzzled Ilkar’s head, licking him hard across the face. Ilkar spluttered and thrashed to a sitting position.
‘That is disgusting.’ He stared at them as if for the first time. ‘What happened?’
‘We thought we were losing you, Ilks,’ said Hirad.
Ilkar wiped his face. ‘I have never been licked by a warrior before, in whatever shape he currently resides.’
‘Well, pull a fading stunt like that again and it’ll be me next time,’ said Hirad.
‘What more incentive could an elf want?’ Ilkar held up a hand to The Unknown, who was standing. ‘Can you help me up?’
‘Sure you’re all right?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Much better for the pep talk, Unknown.’ Ilkar smiled.
The Unknown gathered them all close. ‘Before we run, I want you all to bear in mind one thing. We cannot lose faith, not for a moment. It makes us weak and we cannot afford that. Whatever happens, we are Raven, we are strong. We have never been defeated.’
He held out his hand, palm down. One by one, Sirendor, Ilkar and Hirad placed theirs on his.
‘We are The Raven,’ he repeated. ‘Now let’s go save Auum and find ourselves a new place to rest.’
A soul-tearing scream stopped them before they had taken a single step.
Chapter 42
Two figures lay on the ivory ground not five feet from where Ilkar was standing in The Raven’s huddle. Their screams called out to his soul, burying themselves in the centre of his pain. He could feel theirs so cleanly it brought him, all of them, to their knees.
He led the crawl over to them while the screaming dug at his ability to put one hand in front of the other. His teeth were gritted together and a taut sound was being dragged through them. Wreathed in flame, her hair burning like the brightest lantern on the darkest night, the little girl had her hands over her face, helpless in her agony. Arms wrapped around his head as if to protect him from whatever fell on him, the other figure, a grown man, was tucked into the foetal position. He was covered in dust as if fresh from the trail. His head was a mass of blood, his skull smashed at the back. Shards of bone had pierced the brain within.
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