Thraun loped up to Hirad, who crouched in front of him and stroked his head.

'Wouldn't have done that if you were in human form,' he said. A sad smile touched his lips. 'Oh, Thraun, what the hell have you done?'

The wolf regarded him solemnly, his yellow-flecked eyes moist. He sniffed the air and growled, a friendly sound that went right through Hirad. For a moment, he thought he might cry.

'I don't know.if you can understand me, Thraun, but remember this,' he said, his voice thick, the rest of the world gone for a moment as he stared at the shapechanger. 'You will always be Raven. And we will always remember you. Good luck, both now and in whatever faces you. May your soul find peace.' He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Ilkar. The hand squeezed but the elf said nothing.

Thraun stepped forward, licked Hirad's face, turned and trotted away.

The Chronicles of the Raven continue in Nightchild.

James Barclay was born in 1965 and was raised and educated in Felixstowe, Suffolk (not Folkestone, Framling-ham or Farnborough but Felixstowe) where his parents live to this day. The third of four children, James gained a BA(Hons) in Communication Studies from Sheffield City Polytechnic. Fancying the life of an actor, he travelled to London to train. He still lives there now. Currently, um, 'resting' from acting, he works in the City as an advertising & copywriting manager for a leading investment house.

end.