Demonstorm by James Barclay

By James Barclay

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Dystran tried to calm himself before he entered Ranyl's private chamber. He took a moment to readjust his shirt and be sure his hair was smooth against his head. He slowed his breathing and hoped his face wasn't too red from his run. He nodded at the guard on the door who opened it for him. A wave of heat washed out from the dimly lit interior. He walked in. To the left, the fireplace glowed hot, yellow and orange flames spreading beguiling shadows over walls and drapes. To the right, the light from a hooded lantern revealed Ranyl's bed and the woman sitting beside it.

Ranyl coughed weakly. ' Dystran nodded, accepting. He smiled and placed a hand on Ranyl's cold forehead. 'Everything I have achieved is because of you. ' Ranyl chuckled. 'A fitting epitaph,' he said, his eyes brightening just briefly. And then he was gone. Dystran walked to the balcony shutters and opened them, admitting the cool' air of night. He saw fires towards the walls and could hear the sounds of battle and of panic beginning to grip the streets. He even fancied he could taste blood in the air.

Hirad chuckled. T don't think I said it right. ' 'No, Unknown, I always thought I'd live to see the day, I just didn't ever know when the day would be. ' The Unknown smiled. ' 'That's it exactly,' said Hirad. ' 'Let me ask you something. ' 'At the start, of course it was. But not lately. ' Hirad shrugged. 'A bit of both, if I'm honest. ' 'Not here,' agreed The Unknown. 'But on Calaius they respect us for what we did. ' 'It's a thought. Put it this way. Our time, The Raven's time, is over. We have to face the fact that we're a little creaky, not as fast as we were.

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