“How bad is it?” Vanarr asked in a steady voice, showing no sign of the considerable pain he must be in.

  “Bad,” Verdan said simply, taking his hand away from the Elder’s neck with a frown. “How hard did you have to push yourself to do all that?”

  “Far more so than I would normally,” Vanarr said, grimacing as he shifted his weight and leaned on his halberd. “That creature was powerful, and nothing short of my best efforts would have been enough.”

  “True, and that was with a comparatively small Host,” Verdan said, shivering slightly as he considered how powerful the Scerrd would have become if the city had fallen.

  With time, a third Host would have been set loose to ravage the land. It was easy to see how quickly the Cyth could spread like this, each major victory giving rise to a whole new threat.

  Shaking the dark vision away, Verdan went to urge the Elder to head back into the tunnels for a more thorough examination, but paused as he saw Vaijon and Ciaran heading their way.

  “It’s good to see you, Calear,” Vaijon said with a grin, holding out his hand to the older Sorcerer.

  “Glad you got here when you did,” Vanarr said with a chuckle that became a wet cough. “We’d got the leader, but after so many fights, my people are exhausted.”

  “Happy to help, as always,” Vaijon said with a grin, though Verdan could see some the tension in the bald Sorcerer’s face. “We’ll clear the area, you stand your folks down. Silver is at the outskirts of the city now, so I’ll send Ruthin to give him an update.”

  “Yes, perhaps some rest is in order,” Verdan said, giving Vanarr a pointed look.

  “Thank you, Vaijon,” Vanarr said, looking abruptly very tired as he turned to head back toward the tunnel entrance. “Once Commander Silver is here, we should gather to discuss our next steps.”

  “Of course, I’ll let him know,” Vaijon said, motioning subtly for Verdan to wait. Once the other Elder was far enough away, Vaijon turned to Verdan with a worried look in his eyes. “Is Vanarr alright?”

  “Honestly, no, he isn’t,” Verdan said, running a hand through his hair. “He needs a Cleric, and he needs one soon. Could you ask Ruthin to pass that on to Silver?”

  “Of course, I’ll get him on his way now,” Vaijon said, looking around for the slender air Sorcerer before waving him over.

  “Good, and in the meantime, I’ll do everything I can to keep him alive.”

  -**-

  The corruption within the Elder had spread swiftly. As best as Verdan could guess, the Elder had used a large amount of Essence very quickly.

  In part, that was thanks to the powerful magic he’d used, but it was also to ensure that he could perform as normal, despite his wounds.

  Unfortunately, the rapid drop in Essence meant that there was little resistance against the corruption, and it had quickly spread.

  The spell Verdan had cast earlier had been intended to supplement Vanarr’s existing defences, not replace them, and so had been entirely too little to make a difference.

  The two of them were in the Elder’s chambers now, and Vanarr was sat topless as Verdan did his best to limit the damage done.

  Already, black lines were showing against the Elder’s skin as the corruption took hold.

  “Iacha nercreth,” Verdan said, resting a hand on the Elder’s chest as he sent a stream of healing and strengthening Aether towards the other man’s organs.

  “Verdan?” Bastian’s voice came from the doorway as the Cleric appeared, Lorcan and Branwen at his side. “We got your message and came as fast as we could.”

  “Good, I need your help. The Elder has been struck by some sort of highly aggressive corruption. I’ve kept it contained as best I can, but its spread far more than I like.”

  “Understood,” Bastian said, his eyes gleaming with an inner light as he channelled the power of his gods. “We’ll do what we can.”

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  “You can leave him with us, Verdan,” Branwen said solemnly, reaching out to rest a heavy hand on Verdan’s shoulder reassuringly.

  Much like her brother, Branwen seemed to struggle a little with the corridors, but she was a few inches shorter than Cullan, which made all the difference.

  Like both her brothers, she was tall and powerfully built, she wore her long red hair in a tight braid, however, and had deep green eyes.

  Lorcan, by comparison, was marginally taller than Branwen but kept his hair short and his eyes were a paler green.

  Physically, Lorcan looked quite similar to Cullan, though his hair was short, but the personalities of the two couldn’t be further apart.

  Where Cullan was boisterous and loud, Lorcan was quiet and reserved. They were both equally good at what they did, however, and Verdan knew it.

  Relief swept through Verdan as he left the Elder’s room. He’d been out of his depth there, and when someone’s life was on the line, it was all the worse.

  The Clerics had it all in hand, now, which meant it was time for Verdan to rest.

  -**-

  Commander Silver and the rest of the alliance army took on the role of securing the city while the surviving defenders stood down and rested.

  Unfortunately, time stood still for none of them, and Verdan managed only an hour or two of rest before he was called to a meeting.

  Vanarr, Silver and Vaijon were the only people present when Verdan entered the small room which had been commandeered.

  The other three men were sitting around a table with a familiar map of the area spread out on top. A fourth chair sat between Silver and Vaijon, which Vanarr waved Verdan over to.

  The Elder looked a lot healthier, even after only a couple of hours, though that only put him back to the state he’d been in prior to that fight.

  “We seem to be a few people short of the full group,” Verdan said, leaning his staff against the wall before taking the offered seat.

  “Yes, but my concern was that if we invited too many people, then we’d have to include those we’d rather want left out.” Vanarr’s tone was pointed and Verdan didn’t need to think hard to know who he was talking about.

  “Gward tafel,” Verdan said softly, casting a silencing ward around the room. “There, I’ve taken steps against listeners as well.”

  “Good, now, let’s get down to business. Silver and Vaijon have been updating me on everything, but there’s something you need to know as well.” Vanarr gestured to Silver, who cleared his throat.

  “Pathfinder Galstar sent a detachment to find the Hosts’s tracks from where it left the city and determine where they’re heading. That detachment has returned and tracked them this far.” Silver reached out to tap a finger on the map. “They’re heading north, retracing their path here. The detachment followed the new tracks for a time, and the Cyth stuck exclusively to the same path.”

  “So they’re heading back to Ramoria, then?” Verdan asked, studying the map thoughtfully.

  “It seems that way, but I don’t like it,” Silver said with clear frustration. “I don’t understand why they’d retrace their steps. They’d limit their opportunities to find new prey and cause more damage.”

  “True,” Verdan said with a thoughtful nod. “That is usually their only goal, but we’ve seen a bit more forethought from this Host. Perhaps they’re going somewhere else, and the paths just line up correctly?”

  “That would be easier to know if we knew the precise way they’d got here, but a lot of that is guesswork still,” Vaijon said, rubbing his jaw as he considered the map. “There’s no alternative but to go after them, really.”

  “Chasing Cyth,” Verdan said with a grimace. “That feels like it can only end badly.”

  “True, but what else can we do?” Vaijon asked, spreading his hands palms up.

  “Not much,” Verdan said bitterly. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”

  Vaijon nodded, the look he gave Verdan telling him that the Elder hated all of this just as much as he did.

  “So,” Verdan said, shifting tack now that he knew they were heading out after the Cyth. “When do we leave, and how many are coming with us?”

  “We leave in the morning,” Silver said, looking just as unhappy about that as Verdan was about their plan. “It’s too late to do much now, and our people need their rest. Despite that, the Cyth have a headstart, and this will only build on it.”

  “My people are in no shape to march today,” Vanarr said firmly, but Silver was quick to lift his hands.

  “I understand, and I agree, I just don’t like it.”

  “That does seem to be the theme of this meeting,” Verdan said with a mirthless chuckle.

  “Oh just wait, it gets better. Tell him, Calear,” Vaijon said, motioning for the other Elder to talk.

  Vanarr gave Vaijon a withering look before clearing his throat and turning to Verdan. “Bastian and the other Clerics examined my wound and agree that it is some of the worst corruption they’ve seen. They believe it can be healed, but one of them needs to stay with me, and I must rest and not march on with the rest of you.”

  “You’re right, I don’t like that either, but it does make sense,” Verdan said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his face. “We’ll be sorry to leave you behind, that’s for sure.”

  “Just wait, you’ve not got to the worst part yet,” Vaijon said, his face alight with a somewhat manic smile.

  Verdan frowned, unsure what the Sorcerer meant, but noting the displeased look in Silver’s eyes.

  What Vaijon was referring to registered with Verdan a moment later and he groaned. “Kurgane is going to be second in command still, ins’t he?”

  “Elder Natrix died in the siege, and her body was used to create the Cyth Scerrd we defeated earlier today,” Vanarr said heavily. “With Elder Dun lost to us as well, that leaves little in the way of leadership. I will be sending Ada with you, but Kurgane will have a better claim on the role.”

  Verdan shook his head despairingly. “Kai will not be pleased, I can say that for sure.”

  “Then tell him this from me,” Vanarr said, leaning forward intently. “If Kurgane steps out of line, he has my full support to remedy the problem. I will not tolerate treachery within our ranks.”