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The encounter with the corvraak had unsettled Toryn’s company, especially the horses. He had tried to reassure them the dark creature would not fly under a bright sun, but he noticed it did not prevent them from constantly checking the skies. Toryn had not slept following the incident. He had wandered to a nearby ridge to watch a great thunderstorm coming in from the south, engrossed as it hurled its rage at the Kolossos. The storm sighted its target with great flashes of lightning, then unleashed a ferocious barrage of hail and thunder, determined to shake the mountains to their foundations and topple their lofty peaks. But the ancient mountains stood defiant, dismissive of the storm’s endeavors. Toryn had climbed to the highest part of the ridge to follow the path of lightning as it searched for a weakness elsewhere in the range. Then, as the clouds had departed, the snow-clad slopes had glistened under the light of the half-moon as they had done since the days of the gods. Perhaps one day they would crumble and the Evil One would be freed from his deep vault. But Toryn hoped it would take many thousands of storms before the mountains finally fell.

In the silence, Toryn had sat beneath a tree and entered the Song. He was aware of the Watchers, but they appeared to be occupied elsewhere and he had entered undetected. He recalled the vision of the corvraak and traveled back through the ages to when a fort had stood upon the ridge beneath his feet. In the early days of Draegelan, the creatures commanded the skies. Ormoroth had bred them in their hundreds to bring fear and death to the middle realms. But the bowyers accepted the challenge, crafting great bows to send their arrows faster, truer, and ever higher. In time, the corvraak numbers had dwindled until only one survived. But one was too many. Unlike droogs, the surviving corvraak had wisdom, over a thousand years of flight had shaped this cunning creature. Yet the bird recoiled from the bright sun that blinded its keen eyes and scorched its coarse feathers. Regrettably, the inferior archers and bows of the present day caused it little concern, and none could challenge its supremacy of the sky.

‘You’re sure it won’t come back?’ Toryn found Elrik rode at his side.

‘Not while the sun is up.’ He glanced to the dark clouds looming over the woodlands east of Cafra. ‘But I can’t say for sure if those would be enough to shield it.’

‘Then let’s hope the wind keeps them at bay. We’ll be vulnerable tonight if we can’t find shelter ahead.’

Toryn stood in his stirrups. ‘We’ll be in the shadow of Telamir by the evening. Somehow, I think the tower will protect us.’

Elrik turned back to the clouds. ‘I hope for our sakes you’re right. Even on a clear night with a full moon, our archers would struggle to bring that beast down.’

The afternoon passed without incident. Toryn believed the Nordleng bands were active farther south, perhaps hiding in the Ravern Hills. But Toryn’s attention lay elsewhere. His anticipation grew as their horses sped ever closer to Telamir. Even from a distance, his ears pulsed as if the air carried the tower’s voice, urging caution to those who dared approach. Nyomae’s knowledge of its architects was scant as little could be found of their Verses. And as great as they must have been, Nyomae feared a catastrophic event had erased them from the Song. If that could happen to a race far stronger than those living today, what chance did they have if those forces responsible had returned.

Toryn looked up. Evening came on suddenly to the east of the Kolossos. The sun had dropped below the peaks to their left, casting much of Emryst into shadow. The horses slowed without instruction as if they too were curious what lay ahead. Then Toryn saw it. Two dark spearheads rose from behind a ridge, looking as if they forced their way up from the world beneath. Ten leagues still lay between them and the tower, yet the twin pinnacles sliced through the evening haze to give Toryn the impression he could reach out and touch them. He gaped. His farsight had not come close to revealing its majesty — and he had only seen it’s crown.

Gundrul urged on the horses, but Toryn noticed even the grizzled, old captain’s jaw had dropped, despite him having seen it many times. They rode on in silence as if in reverence to the ancient structure. As more emerged over the horizon, Toryn found it harder to determine the tower’s shape. At times he thought its pinnacles angled towards each other, but then a second glance gave the impression they diverged like the claws of a hawk about to snatch its prey. To Toryn’s wonder, its color also evaded his attempts to define. Black one moment, then perhaps silver, then gray as it merged with the sky. It was if the architects challenged the onlooker, defying their eyes to see the whole building in a single moment. And despite the twilight, it still appeared to glisten as if the sun’s rays somehow penetrated the Kolossos to caress its surface.

Gundrul waved his arm above his head to bring the company to a halt. ‘We’ll camp here tonight. Getting too dark to see my hand in front of my face.’ Toryn blinked. The lake now sat a hundred paces ahead, yet he had not noticed it before now. The tower had all but disappeared against the night sky. He slid from his horse in a trance, not feeling the ground beneath his feet. A cool, stiff breeze blew, but not even a ripple disturbed the water. The lake would not allow the tower alone to deceive visitors. It too had tricks of its own. Toryn stared. Heavy clouds bore down on the land, yet the lake chose to reflect a clear, starlit sky.

No fires were set, no supper was cooked. The company lay down where they dismounted, and let sleep carry them to far off lands.

Toryn stood at the edge of the mirror-like lake. Hamar was right. He ducked and tried several angles but could see no reflection of the immense tower. Shepra sat at his side. He stroked her head. ‘Quite a sight, eh, Sheppy.’ The dog’s eyes widened. Toryn laughed. ‘You see it don’t you, girl.’ He kneeled and dipped his hand in the cool water but noticed it raised barely a ripple. He turned back to Shepra who appeared keen to know more. He obliged with the little he knew. ‘Many have rowed out to the tower, but none have found a way in.’ Toryn tipped his head right back and could just see the twin pinnacles amid the clouds struggling to make their way around. ‘Have you ever seen anything quite so tall? Apart from the Kolos—’ Toryn gawped. The peaks of the Kolossos looked smaller. The mountains stood just two leagues to the west, yet in the presence of the tower they appeared half their height. But when he turned his back on the lake, the peaks assumed their lofty status.

‘Don’t try to make sense of it, lad. Your head will hurt.’ Gundrul strode over to Toryn. He nodded to the tower. ‘The whole region don’t make any sense. So I say, enjoy its strangeness, marvel at that structure, but just accept it as it is.’

‘Good advice, Captain.’ Toryn turned back to the tower and gasped as if seeing it for the first time again. With every viewing something changed, or he would notice a new feature, or perhaps the tower altered itself whenever people had the gall to take their eyes from its beauty. ‘Imagine what this land looked like when the race that built that prevailed.’ He turned away. ‘And now I must see Syris. Odrun…’ his head bowed, ‘saw them both and believed Syris was yet more beautiful and mysterious.’

Gundrul bent to tickle Shepra. ‘I’ve known only a handful who’ve seen the two, but you won’t find agreement on which holds that title. But you’re going to have to put your visit to Syris on hold for now. Not the time to go galivanting around the realms for a bit of sightseeing, eh.’

But Toryn had not heard the captain. He was drawn back to the tower, seeing a new twist at its base. He spoke more to himself. ‘How were they built? Archonholm looks crude compared to this, and apparently even Calerdorn can’t hold a candle to it.’ He sighed. ‘Defies belief.’

Gundrul patted his shoulder. ‘Like I said. Don’t try to understand, just enjoy the view.’

Toryn forced himself to look to the captain. ‘But this doesn’t help us find the Amayans.’ He traced the outline of the lake to the opposite bank. ‘I’m certain they came this way. I was hoping they’d taken refuge here. I can’t explain it, but I doubt our foes could endure spending time in its shadow… even if it cast one. That tower doesn’t tolerate evil.’

The captain nodded. ‘I get your meaning. I can’t tell for sure if it’s on our side, but I’d bet my farm on the plain it would have nothing to do with our enemy.’

‘A message has arrived, Captain.’ They turned as Janae strolled to the lake with a bird on her arm. ‘It’s from Archonholm. It bears Lady Harlyn’s seal.’

Gundrul thanked her and passed the note to Toryn. Toryn had an idea what it might say. He was right. ‘Things are moving, Captain. The Ruuk have crossed the Kel. We can expect to see our forces riding this way in a few days. But Lady Harlyn stresses we continue with our mission. Looks like we’ll be needing every available sword sooner than we would have hoped.’