She Who Has No Name

CHAPTER FOUR

The fortress of Ghant was a citadel, cleft from the side of the mountain. Its upper reaches came into view as they rounded the narrow approach. It was a formidable-looking building ofbluntstone, jagged towers and serrated walls, perched amongst the cliffs and peaks that crowded around it. Any force that attempted to take such a fortress would surely have difficulty, but it was only when the party cleared the narrow valley and stepped out into an open square that thetruenature of Ghant’s defences became apparent. Directly in front of them was a vast chasm that split the mountains in two. It dropped abruptly away and stretched far to the north and south, as if the mountains had one day quarrelled and turned their backs to each other.

A railing and stone path followed this side of the drop, leading the last few hundred paces to the base of the fortress, and there the chasm narrowed significantly. A natural bridge of stone leaned out from the far cliffs, seeming to defy gravity, and a crossing spanned out from the heights of Ghant to meet it, bridging the gap from east to west. Even from this distant vantage point, it was evident that crowds of people were moving across into the citadel, fleeing to the sanctuary of the west.

Theparty of travellersfound themselves now beside a set of stables, all built in tiers, and offset to take advantage of the limited space. A large,cobbled mounting yard filled the remaining flat ground. Imperial soldiers mulled about, caring for the many animals penned there and keeping an eye on the passing civilians. These refugees came streaming past them and continued down towards the nearby town of Shallowbrook without so much as a pause, for the soldiers would not let them stand idle even if they wanted to. The wind was whistling along the canyon,and the gold and yellow pennants that were set along the guardrail flapped wildly.

Orrell signalled for his men to dismount and the wagons came clip-clopping to the front, where some of the fortress-men began unloading them without need of direction. The Koian women stepped down and began eyeing the remarkable terrain around them with interest.

‘Well met, Captain,’ came a greeting, and an officer came striding out of one of the adjoining stable buildings, wiping his chin as if he had just been interrupted from his dinner. ‘We’ve been expecting you. How fared your journey?’

‘Hail, fellow. The journey was fine, but my party is road-weary.’ It was generally polite to return such archaic speech with the same and Captain Orrell was adept at dealing with all manner of men and their habits.

‘We have rooms prepared in the citadel. If you will,’ and with that the man began immediatelyto lead the waytowards the black tower,his sturdy boots crunching on the gritty stones.

Captain Orrell left Lieutenant Valiant in charge of his men, while the rest of the party continued on foot. They followed the cobblestone path along the narrowing ravine, squeezing past the fretful refugees.

‘It’s getting busier,’ their guide announced without slowing his strides. ‘No one wants to be left on the far side when the crossing comes down.’

The entranceway to Ghant led them into a courtyard, where the civilians were being directed down a wide set of stairs that carried them from further up the mountain. With that route being busy, their guide led them instead into a nearby building and,at once,theybegan along a tour of halls and paths that stretched from building to building, with each step leading them higher than the last. They found themselves several times looking down on the stream of refugees from some high narrow path, and other times they trundled along below it. They went from wall to wall, battlement to battlement, each strategically placed with war in mind and designed for squads of men at a time. The interiors of the buildings were entirely functional, with no sign of floor coverings or artistic complements. There was no doubt that this was a construction built entirely for the practical purposes of war.

It was surprising to learn that rather than a single monumental building as it had first seemed, Ghant was actually a series of levels built wherever purchase could be found on the side of the mountain. The only luxury of space that they came upon was several small courtyards. One or two even had a small garden growing within, but most were open and barren, only serving as platforms to observe the eastern side of the ravine. There also seemed to be a considerable network of tunnels that ran like warrens into the mountain, for several times theyhadturned abruptly into dim passages that had been chiselled into the rock and wound their way past rooms and side passages, until bursting out into the open air again, higher up on the next level and looking down pastthecliffs from whencethey had come.

They received some strange looks from the soldiers as they passed, and the Koians and their god attracted the most attention of all, with some of the local soldiers staring in amazement at their alien features and the god- woman’s bizarre costume.

Finally, they reached the innards of Ghant proper.Here they entered a great fortified courtyard with numerous towers and buildings springing up around it. Soldiers were busy at work in all directions, going about their duties. Beside them, the solid tower of polished,black stone began, rising high above them and looking out over the ravine. The other towers beside it were much smaller in comparison, and some were adjoined to it by enclosed bridges at various heights. A number of smiths were in one corner, working away in front of their furnaces, banging on their anvils and sending up plumes of steam as they hammered their steel and quelled their irons. Many of the buildings here seemed to be men’s quarters and they looked full to capacity, judging from the extra bunks and equipment that had been crammed into them.

Ghant seemed like a mighty anthill, ready to erupt with troops at a moment’s notice,and Samuel found it no small wonder that the place had such a reputation for being unconquerable. A gateway was open in the eastward wall via which the civilians were entering. Samuel caught sight of the mountains and the crossing between the people as they hurried through.

‘The stream of those seeking haven is almost endless,’ their guide announced. ‘They come day and night, fearing the Paatin. Many are fleeing this way for the haven of the inner Empire. We try to move them on as quickly as possible. As you can see, this is not a place in which they can afford to linger.’

‘There have been many spies in Cintar. Have you had any problems here?’ Tudor asked.

‘We started by capturing all the traders from the east that came by. We asked them some direct questions, but they had little to say. We threw a few into the chasm, but it did little to loosen their tongues. Now, very few attempt to come this way; whether any were spies or not, I cannot say. They are a confounded lot. We always ignored them before.’

Their guide led them into the solid block of dark stone that formed the central tower of the citadel. That, too, was a labyrinth of passages, but they finally came to a parting of the corridors where a couple of civilian servants were waiting expectantly.

‘These two will escort your ladies and their companions to their rooms,’ the guide announced. ‘General Mar has asked that the rest of you meet him upon arrival.’

Grand Master Tudor briefly explained to the Koians what was happening.They seemed relieved to hear they were going to rest and followed the servants eagerly.

The magicians, Captain Orrell and Sir Ferse,then followed their spry guide along another tour of the fortress, eventually leading to what must have been the highest point, for they found themselves climbing stairway after spiralling stairway, each leading to a floor somewhat smaller than the last as the tower narrowed.

Finally,they ran out of stairsand entered a room that had a sweeping view of the ravine and the mountains opposite. There was space for about thirty men to stand comfortably inside, butatpresent there were only a half-dozen. Their guide left them at the doorway and whispered in the ear of the one who was presumably General Mar: a tall and firm looking man, not great of girth, but well-muscled. He had a brutal scar across his forehead that split one of his eyebrows in two, and his hair, streaked with grey, was tied back firmly.

After the guide had departed, the general beckoned them over. Captain Orrell gave the stiff Turian salute, which General Mar returned with equal Turian vigour.

‘Welcome, Captain Orrell and Lords of the Order,’ the general said. ‘This is Captain Ravenshood and Captain Yarn,’ at which the two officers flanking him also saluted. Yarn was a tubby, red-bearded fellow with a gruff demeanour, while Ravenshood seemed much too young for his position, bearing boyish looks and appearing too lean for any kind of serious warfare. ‘Obviously, I have been expecting you. At the command of General Ruardin himself,I have been asked to grant you every resource possible and meet your every request. It is quite an unusual circumstance, I must admit, to see such champions of the Order at my door,’ and the sturdy fellow eyed each of the young magicians,as if weighing their merits. ‘I understand you have also come with mixed and unusual company.’

‘Thank you, General,’ Grand Master Tudor responded. ‘Yes, we bring a party of KoianOutlanders with us to assist with our task. They are civilians and we will try to keep them quiet and out of your way. I must assume from your lack ofreference to her, that the Empress has not been found. Where is Lord Lomar?’

Mar shifted uncomfortably. ‘Unfortunately, it seems her kidnappers have slipped through our grasp. Lomar left just days ago. He wanted to await your arrival, but it had become evident that we had either missed the Empress, or they had not come this way. He said he was going ahead to a place called Tosah, although I am not familiar with the name.’

Tudor sighed. ‘I know of it. It is far from here. How disappointing. Now, our search will be made all the more difficult. We have been long upon the road, General, but I hope we can call upon your hospitality for the night. Then, we will continueeastat first light.’ The old magician then peered out the wide-open windows towards the craggy terrain of the chasm. ‘Captain Orrell will speak with you about what things we need for our supplies, but otherwise, I hope you can lend us a pillow each and a decent mattress.’

Samuel also took the chance to peek out the window, seeing the great rift of the chasm stretching below, and the many levels of the fortress huddled along its edge with people moving about on every piece of flat rock.

‘You plan to continue east, then?’ Mar asked with concern.

‘We must, General.’

The tall Turian shook his head solemnly. ‘Then I have more unfortunate news for you. We will be withdrawing the crossing before dawn. A Paatin host approaches through the mountains. They have already taken Kalid, the nearest town across the pass, this third day past. Lomar must have made it through just in time or he would have returned by now. The path through the mountains will be slow for them but,once the Paatin army reaches here, they will have no way to reach us. However, there will also be no way for anyone here to travel to the far side.’

‘They may have thought of that, General,’ Tudor told him. ‘The Paatin have proved highly resourceful and may already have plans. I doubt they would come here depending only on their luck.’

‘Once the bridge is lowered, there is no way across for months in every direction. Ghant guards the only pass through these mountains, and they run ragged and cruel, as you can see. No army has every crossed here without our permission and none ever will. The desert-men will be forced to turn back if they want to enter Turia and they will have to round the mountains as best they can. Any other route will lead them up above the snowline and their losses would be severe. It would take them weeks to cross with that many men. No sane commander would risk it. Even so, I will not underestimate the enemy. I have also heard strange tales of their warfare and they seem wellprepared in everything they do. I am sure their spies have been through here many times and they know the lay of the land well. I believe they will come here with a plan, as you say, but we will be ready for anything they can throw against us. I am a stubborn old goat at times, but I will not underestimate my foe, whether they bear magic or not. We will give the Paatin a greeting they will not forget.’

‘It sounds like you know your job well, General. I will not interfere.’

‘Are you expecting them to bring magicians?’ Goodfellow asked, for his ears had picked up at mention of magic.

‘I hear they call their spell-casterswizards, but I have no mind for such words, except that it means that they wield magic. I would expect anything. We have not seen or heard of them using magic yet in these parts, but that may mean nothing. Magic seems to have become the bread and butter of war these days, although I still do not understand its workings. I will not leave anything to surprise. Now, I suggest you get as much rest as you can and depart early. I am sorry you had to waste your time coming this way.’

‘What do you mean, General?’ old Tudor asked with puzzlement.

‘You cannot cross the mountains. The way is blocked by a horde of desert-men. Surely, you will be turning back.’

‘That is not possible, General. We will not return without the Empress and her son. You mentioned other ways through the mountains, across the high paths?’

‘That is madness, My Lord,’ he retorted, incredulous at the notion, before recovering his sober demeanour. ‘I beg your pardon, My Lord. Please excuse my surprise. The high paths are treacherous at the best of times and,at this time of year,it is suicide to venture so high. If you took a hundred men through, perhaps five might survive.’

‘Bethatas it may, General, we are magicians and we cannot turn back. We will leave our Imperial escort behindif need beand proceed on foot,’ to which Captain Orrell nodded his agreement.

‘Is it wise to abandon our escort?’ Goodfellow asked worriedly.

‘I understand your concerns, Master Goodfellow,’ Tudor responded over his shoulder, raising a finger of calm, ‘but it would not be wise for Captain Orrell and his men to accompany us. We could not protect so many. They would only be a hindrance.’

‘It does sound ratherrisky,’ Samuel added.

‘You forget yourself, Lord Samuel,’ Tudor replied, his patience wearing thin. ‘We are not oafs fumbling around in the darkness. I am a Lion of Cintar, and you three are Magicians of the Order. We will cross the mountainstogether.’

Samuel felt Turian stubbornness affecting the Grand Master’s decision, but he could say no more.

‘Then so be it,’ General Mar agreed. ‘I can provide you with a guide who knows the mountains well. When it is time for you to leave, I will summon him.’

They were taken to small, yet comfortably furnished, rooms to retire for the evening-tiny cellssculptedinto the outer walls of the tower. As night fell, Samuel closed his tiny window tightly shut for,with the sun’s setting,the already brisk air now carried a frigid bite. Goodfellow’sbunksharedthe tiny roomwith him,leavingbarely walking space between them, andGoodfellowhad slipped out to fetch their dinner.

Samuel was just sitting on the side of his bed, scratching his chin and making some notes in his journal,when there was an insistent tapping on the door. At first,he thought it was Goodfellow returned, but the energy of the person on the other side was not his, although familiar. Samuel pulled open the door to find Lady River facing him. She brushed past him at once and swept into his room.

‘Close the door, Magician,’ she told him. ‘We must be quick.’ Samuel did as he was told, not quite sure what to expect. ‘I have much to tell you, and I am watched closely. I can tell Lady Leaf I became lost in the halls, which is not far from the truth, but I can only make excuses for so long. This may be thelastchance I have to speak with you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘These people, my countrymen, have been sent here to achieve some secret purpose. They have sacrificed countless lives to reach your lands and will stop at nothing.’

‘What do you mean? To what end?’

‘I don’t know, but everything Canyon has told you isalie. He belongs to a secret group that holds great power. They have stolen our god from her temple and set her on this accursed voyage. There is some reason why they have brought her all the way here, but I don’t know what it is. All I can say is that it must be of extreme importance to them, and of extreme evil. Whatever their plan, I am sure it has something to do with this place, for otherwise Canyon would never have agreed to come.’

‘You know nothing about his plans?’

‘No. But please be careful. He is without conscience and I know he has already met other members of his brethren here. I had no idea they had infiltrated even so far away from Koia as here.’

‘The Circle of Eyes,’ Samuel said.

Her eyes went wide, revealing the whites around her brown coronas. ‘How did you know? Are you with them?’ and she stepped back against the wall.

‘No, I am not with them. They exist here, too, and I learned of their ways long ago. I have not heard from them in a long time, but that means little. They are always up to no good, as you say.’

The explanation seemed to placate her fears. ‘They must be stopped. I am sure they plan to use our god in unspeakable ways.’

‘What ways?’

‘She does not want to do bad things, but Canyon can make her. He knows how to make people do things they don’t want to do and our god does not know the common ways of people. She has been cared for in the temple all her life and does not know when people lie to her. She can do terrible things, Magician. More horrible than you could imagine.’

‘What things? I don’t understand.’

‘Do you know what happened to all the people on our ship? Some died of starvation and some died of other things, but most of them were sacrificed to keep her strong, or to remove them from Canyon’s way. Anyone who threatened his plans soon disappeared. I heard them screaming, Magician, and the sounds haunt me to this day.’

The girl sobbed into her cupped hands and looked set to collapse, so Samuel stepped towards her and held her by the arms. She was trembling with fright,a tiny frail thing looking at him with a pleading expression.

‘What do you mean? What did she do to them?’

‘She is a god, Magician. She did what gods do to us mortals when they are finished with us. She ate them.’

Samuel did not know if he should believe her. The girl seemed sincere, but her story was incredible.

‘Please,’ she continued, stepping out of his grasp and attempting to collect herself. ‘You must help me to stop them. I cannot do it by myself. There is only one way to halt their plans, whatever they may be.’

‘What is that?’ Samuel asked.

‘You must kill her. Listen to me. The men guarding her are deadly and must be avoided. They will protect her with their lives. She must be stabbed through the heart or head or crushed beyond recognition-and it must be done quickly, before she can realise what is happening or she will have time to defend herself. She only has to reach for you. Her touch is death!’

Samuel shook his head. ‘I will not kill her.’

‘You must!’ the girl pleaded, again stepping close to him and grasping his shirtfront. ‘Or at least promise me this-if at last you see what they are doing with her, dothe deedthen, before it is too late. I don’t know what they plan, but they have crossed half the world to achieve something and she is crucial to whatever it may be. Do nothesitate onour god’s behalf. I know she appears helpless, but her spirit is eternal. The moment you smite her, she will be freed from her body and reborn once again. There is nothing to fear from her death, but she should never have been brought to this land. It is Canyon’s doing.’

‘Lady River,’ he told her. ‘I will heed your words, but I will need to speak with the others. It sounds quite fantastic.’

‘Do not!’ she gasped. ‘Do not trust anyone. If they suspect me of anything at all, they will kill me. I came to you, Magician, because I have heard you are also in their plans. I know you can be trusted. No doubt, they have some evil intention for you, too. I only hope I have not brought more danger upon you by coming to you, but I don’t know whom else I can trust. I am the only one left.’

‘You can trust me, Lady,’ Samuel said, trying to placate her fears. ‘I will keep your secret, but I will not kill her either. I cannot kill an innocent woman, no matter what sheis capable ofdoing. I will wait, and gather more information. But,if the time arrives as you say, I will act accordingly. You can be assured.’

With that, she nodded thoughtfully and pulled away from him. ‘I only hope you can act in time. Then good night,’ she said, and slipped back out the door, with Samuel popping his head out to follow her departure.

She had barely disappeared around the corner before Goodfellow came along the othercorridorwith two plates piledhighfull of steaming food. ‘What are you doing with your head out in the hallway?’ he asked, but Samuel would not say. They went inside to eat their meals, with Samuel’s mind set fairly on all the girl had told him.

His dreams that night were of a city in flames. A black-cloaked figure stood overlooking the ruin, watching on in the flickering light. Within the shadow of his hood,the figure bore a look of contentment, and the face within that cowl wasSamuel’sown. Wails and screams filled the air, but he did nothing to stop it, for everything as such was wonderful. As he held out his hand and clenched his fist shut, the land before him turned black as ashes and all the lives were extinguished as one.

He knew he should feel guilty, but the promise of such terrible power was truly thrilling and it was only a dream, after all. As the clouds of his dream churned and boiled, he set himself into them willingly, searching for more such beautiful destruction.

The morning was freezing and Samuel had to trot across the narrow tiled floor intheirroom, making for the haven of the one small rug. He washedfroma bowl of hot water and dressed-thankful for his thick Order robes. More than once during the night, he had been woken from his dreams and damned himself for being so reliant on the Argum Stone. It would only have taken a trickle of power to warm his icy bones, but a trickle of power was something the relic could not offer him. It was a weapon of all or nothing,and his attempts to control the object had still met such limited success.

He had half-expected the Paatin to attack while he slept, but no one had come to wake him in the night. He vaguely remembered Goodfellow getting up earlier and leaving him to sleep in. His stomach was grumbling and so he hurried from his room and began following the directions to the dining room that Goodfellow had given him in a lacklustre fashion the night before. He could feel Grand Master Tudor and Master Celios not far away and so,between his magician’s senses and the occasional directions given by passing soldiers, he finally managed to find breakfast. In the last few turns, the smells that wafted along the halls were all he needed to guide his way.

The room was warm and full of steaming goodness-bacon, sausages, eggs and the like-and the others were sitting together, already most of the way through their meal. Goodfellow waved to Samuel as he neared. Sir Ferse, as expected, was sitting tightly next to Master Celios and the Koian men were even dining at the table beside. Only the Koian women were absent and Samuel assumed they would be eating privately in their rooms. Soldiers were champing at their meals at the dozens of other tables; the room was full of the clattering and chattering noises of men and their breakfasting.

‘As you can see, the Paatin are yet to attack,’ said Grand Master Tudor as Samuel stepped over the bench and sat himself down. ‘I presume you had a decent night’s rest.’

‘Indeed,’ Samuel replied, as a busy servingwoman dumped a plate, piled high with foodstuff, before him. There were a couple of other plates sitting abandoned at the end of the table, but the lady seemed happy to let the half-finished breakfasts clutter up the table.

‘Master Celios has indicated that we will stay another day,’ Tudor revealed.

Samuel raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’

‘Timing is critical, Samuel,’ Master Celios said,his wordsbarely intelligibledue tothe great mass of eggs and breadinhis mouth. His lips were dripping slop and sauce all overhis cloak. ‘Last night I had a very strong feeling. We have a role to play here and the Koians have also not yet played their part.’

‘When will we leave?’ Samuel asked.

‘When the time is right,’ Celios replied.

‘When will the time be right?’

Celios looked back at him, almost in disbelief. ‘When the time is right, Samuel!’

Samuel could see Eric covering his amusement with the back of his hand. It seemed Master Celioscould giveno particular reason why they should stay and be embroiled in the coming battle, when they had a perfectly good opportunity to slip away-but that was the way with Master Celios.

‘So we are going to assist with the defence of Ghant?’ he asked.

‘If necessary,’ Tudor replied. ‘We will do what we must.’

Just then, something caught Samuel’s eye, there near the kitchen door. He just had time to spy a figure-someone he was sure he recognised-darting away down a side entrance, although it hardly seemed possible in this far-flung place. The little person even seemed to wave at him, as if to catch his attention, which seemed even stranger.

‘Excuse me a moment,’ he said, standing from the bench and sliding out beside the table.

‘Oh?’ Grand Master Tudor said with interest, pulling his staff aside before Samuel knocked it over. ‘Something caught your eye?’

‘Someone,’ Samuel replied, peering towards the corridor. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’

Samuel darted off after his prey, finding that the doorway opened directlyonto an outdoor area where the cooks were hurrying about with their goods and carting wood for their ovens. There, across the hay-strewn floor, the dwarfish figure disappeared into another corridor. Samuel had not seen the man’s face, but everything about the man, and especially his aura-which Samuel had a knack for remembering-seemed to confirm the fact thatthe manwas known to him.

That next door led away past great barrels of water, each piped and connected and surroundedbypuddles on the floor. The little man was standing at the end, as if waiting for Samuel and,when he got nearer, he even smiled in greeting, which was brave, because Samuel had the compulsion to kill him right there on the spot.

‘Doonan!’ he said. ‘I knew it! What in blazes are you doing here, you evil little monster? I should kill you now.’

‘Poor Doonan,’ came another voice, and someone else, whom Samuel also knew very well, stepped beside the tiny man. He was tall, neatly dressed in a finely-cut suit, and looked very sure of himself. His name was Balten and he was surrounded by an aura of the sturdiest kind. ‘Don’t harass him, Samuel. That’s not fair of someone of your stature. I thought the Order was more benevolent than that.’

Samuel looked between the two of them, for he was not sure which one disturbed him more: Doonan, the spy-assassin-midget who had captured him and helped Ash with his conquest of the Argum Stone;or Balten, a senior member of the Circle of Eyes, who had threatened Samuel on multiple occasions and manipulated him for his own ends who knows how many times.

‘Calm now, Samuel,’ Balten said smoothly. ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ Samuel was about to hurl insults at the man, but Balten already had his palms held up in defence. ‘No need to become agitated. Wait a moment while I tell you what is happening, and then feel free to abuse me as much as you wish.’

At this, Samuel took a calming breath. ‘I don’t know why I should, but I will give you a chance. What are you doing here?’

‘He’s just like you said,’ Doonan said in his squeaky voice, arching his neck to look up at the tall man beside him.

Balten only smirked. ‘Yes, he’s very excitable. Let me have a chat with him while you go back to the others,’ to which Doonan scurried off. ‘Now, first of all, I’m here because I’ve been waiting for you, of course. Once word reached me that you had been sent on this god-forsaken mission to rescue your Empress, I knew I would be able to find you here. I do have an offer to make to you, as you probably expect, but you may be surprised to learn I have actually come here with instructions to help you.’

Samuel decided to disbelieve anything that came out of Balten’s mouth from that point on. ‘How is that?’

‘As I’m sure you are aware, there is about to be a rather extensive battle here. With you being as important as Cang believes you to be, I have been instructed to help defend this little tower of rock and its inhabitants, so that you won’t be killed. What do you think of that?’

The smirk on Balten’s face was just far too big.

‘Firstly,’ Samuel began, ‘I don’t want your help and,secondly, the moment anyone here discovers who you are, you will have a lot of trouble keeping your head intact.’

Balten’s smile became even wider. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Let’s go give it a try.’

With that, Balten started back towards the dining room. The man who had towered over Samuel when they first met, was now only a head taller, but he strode with such gusto that Samuel had to scurry to keep up.

‘This way, is it?’ Balten said, gesturing into the room and he stepped in and went right up to Grand Master Tudor’s table.

‘Grand Master-’ Samuel began, but his mouth only hung open when he saw Balten sit down at the end of the table, where the midget Doonan was already eating with zest, and he, too, began eating away at the plate of food that remained.

‘What’s that, Samuel?’ Balten said. ‘You were about to say something? Go on?’

‘Sit down, Samuel,’ Grand Master Tudor insisted, ‘and stop gawking. Yes, I know who this is and I know he is a member of the Circle. I have known of Balten for a long time and,although he is no friend of the Order, we find ourselves in a situation where we require his considerable talents. We have been talking through most of the night and I can see that he was correctinhis estimate of your reactionto his offer of assistance. I was going to break the news to you gently, but you rushed out after them like a dog after ahare.’

Samuel sat back down at his place and looked at the two Ericsindisbelief. He hoped they wouldfeelas outraged as hewas, but they were only waiting calmly to see how the discussion would progress.

‘I don’t know what he’s told you, Grand Master, but this man-both of them-cannot be trusted. They are from the Circle of Eyes. Don’t you understand what that means?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Tudor responded flatly, taking a bite from his well-buttered bread and letting the crumbs tumble down and gather in his beard.

‘They are killers! Assassins! Spies! They are…they are-’ he struggled for more words to appropriately describe them.

‘Scoundrels,’ Balten suggested.

‘Cut-throats,’ Doonan squeaked, looking up from his plate with one eye.

‘But necessary,’ Tudor finished. ‘Master Celios gave me some forewarning that the Circle would have a presence here and, believe it or not, Samuel, the Order has had contact with the Circle at various times before-even if it is one of our deepest, darkest secrets, which it is to remain,’ he added,looking towards the two Erics to ensure they understood. ‘I have dealt with the Circle before, although admittedly never of my ownvolition, and I have heard many colourful things about Mr Doonan here, who was quite often in the employ of our belated Archmage. Despite all this, the situation is quite clear and requires that we put our differences aside. Wemustsave the Empress and the heir to the Empire. To do that, we must get through these mountains andin orderto do that, we must defend Ghant. We need all the help we can get.’

‘But-’ Samuel began to retort, but Tudor cut him off.

‘No.’

‘What-’ Samuel attempted.

‘No.’

‘Grand Master-’ came his last attempt, but Tudor raised a solemn finger and gave Samuel a stern look as heshooshedhim.

‘Hush, Samuel. It will be as I have said. Now you can continue flapping your gums like a fish out of water, or you can finish your breakfast.’

With that, Samuel gave up and did as he was told, picking up a lukewarm sausage on the end of his fork. He scowled towards the end of the table, but Balten only smiled back at himdisarmingly. There would be no good to be had from this.

After breakfast, Eric Pot and Goodfellow managed to squeeze all the information out of Samuel about Balten and they were both astonished that Grand Master Tudor had decided to work with him and the rotten dwarf, Doonan.

‘But how did he get here before us?’ Eric asked. ‘Do you think he can use a Journey spell?’ he added, making sure no one was near enough to hear.

‘No,’ Goodfellow replied. ‘I think it was luckmore than anything, or else he was already in Cintar and justleftahead of us. No one else can use the Journey spell besides you, Eric-as far as we know.’

‘It’s true,’ Samuel agreed. ‘As much as I hate to admit it, it was no great secret that we were coming here, but I just don’t trust him. The Circle never does anything that is notinits own interest.’

‘Well, at least we may be lucky in this case.Our interestsappear tocoincide,’ Goodfellow added. ‘If we are going to be here for this battle and Balten is as powerful as you say, then he will be very useful to us.’

‘That’s what worries me.’

Grand Master Tudor called them up to a high rampart later in the afternoon and it was surprising to see the Koians had also been summoned. The wind had been blowing strongly in the morning, but it had settled now and the sky was a clear blue, revealing the towering peaks that crowded over them from all around.

Soldiers were mostly milling about, but some were checking and preparing their equipment. Periodically, there would be a loud noise as the ballista teams launched tremendous lengths of sharpened timberand sent themhurtling across the chasm, testing their aim, seemingly able to strike with exact precision. Enormous catapults affixed to the ramparts could also shower the approaching path across the ravine with stones. It seemed obvious how Ghant had withstood all assaultsuntil now. There just seemed to be no way to even near it.

Balten and Doonan were there: Balten dressed in his neat jacket, while Doonan seemed almost attired as a carnival clown, in a suit of coloured stripes and patterns. The Koian god-woman wasalsothere, surrounded by her party, but this time her costume was far less extravagant. Whether it was the impending battle, or just some mysterious facet of her culture, she was now dressed in a many-layered coat with loose sleeves that hung almost to the ground. She wore no wig, but her hair had been greased andcolouredwith white stripes. Her face was painted snow-white and her eyes etched in black, as if to match the frosty mountain tops around.

‘Everyone is gathered,’ Master Celios announced aloud.

Grand Master Tudor turned to face them and they all shuffled closer. He addressed them in Old Tongue for the benefit of the Koians, so Master Celios kept his mouth close to Sir Ferse’s ear, translating as the old Grand Master spoke.

‘Welcome, everyone. As you can see, Ghant is readied for its defence. I wanted to speak to you all, as we fully expect the attack to begin after dark tonight. We need to prepare ourselves, and I also wanted to give anyone the chance to leave, should they so wish.’ At that he lookedmeaningfullytowards the Koian party, but they did not react in the slightest. ‘Hopefully, the Paatin will realise their assault is futile and leave quickly. Then, we can also be on our way. We expect the Paatin willbe forced to withdraw back to Kalid,at least until the spring,for with every passing day winter will make the pass more and more inhospitable.’

Ambassador Canyon returned the look with his own pert smile that he used for all occasions when he was not actually happy. ‘We have made a promise to stay with you, Grand Master Tudor, whatever the situation, until our fate is decided. Whatever the dangers, we have come here as promised. I think there is little point in us leaving so quickly.’

Tudor weighed up the answer. ‘Very well. I suggest that your party remain in your quarters for the duration of any assault. General Mar cannot affordto sparemen to take care of you, and being in the open could be dangerous. In the rare chance of the fortress being breached, we will fall back to Shallowbrook. Such an assault, of course, could last for weeks, for,as the chasm that marks the edge of Turia stops our enemy from reaching us, so too,it inhibits us from reaching them. Eventually, it will be the elements thatwillforce them to withdraw. We will meet each afternoon at this time to discuss any changes in our situation.’

Canyon nodded in agreement-or perhaps it was more of a bow, for he had cupped his hands together slightly, as the Koians sometimes did when displaying courtesy. ‘We shall stay in our rooms and out of your way as you suggest.’

‘Sir Ferse,’ Tudor began and thatregal fellow looked keenly to the magician in expectation, ‘I think you also should stay indoors.’

But Master Celios would have none of that and spoke up excitedly. ‘Not at all, Grand Master. It is important that Sir Ferse remains with me whenever possible. I will be responsible for his well-being.’

Tudor gave the otherMaster a level gaze, before submitting. ‘Very well.’ He then turned to Balten and the dwarf. ‘I assume you two will make yourselves useful as required.’

‘We hope to be of some use. I like the look of that tower,’ Balten said, craning his neck to look to the highest column-like reaches of Ghant. ‘If you need me, I will probably be up there. Doonan is quite useful with his hands and not too fond of heights, so I think I will set him loose down here. It may pay not to get too close to him, though, once things get started. He can get a tad excitable in the heat of battle.’

At this, Doonan gave a demonic smile and revealed his dirty teeth. The old Grand Master raised a questioning brow, but could only sigh and shake his head.

Tudor turned directly to the younger magicians. ‘You three will stay close to me. Not only must I keep my promise to Grand Master Anthem to keep you safe, but I will call upon your skills as Masters of the Order. I expect you to be readyfor anything and to follow my instructions without a blink of hesitation. Captain Orrell and his men have now been assimilated into General Mar’s defences, but,if he comes seeking you, I advise you to follow his instructions. He has grown familiar with the ways of magic and he has a cunning mind. He may find applications for you that even you have not considered yet. Now, please spend a few minutes examining our surrounds.’

They did as instructed, and Samuel used his senses as best he could to assess the far approach to Ghant. There was little to learn, however, and as much as he would have liked to find some tactical advantage hidden in the stones, he could not.

The Koians seemed in no hurry to leave and were also milling about on the parapet, peering down over the battlements and into the chasm and across it with interest, pointing. Samuel strolledin their directionas casually as possible until he was beside the young Lady River, but she did not seem alarmed by his presence.

‘What a beautiful place,’ she said, smiling.

‘Are you not afraid Canyon will see us speaking?’

‘Oh, he already has. There is no point hiding anything. Besides, I will not talk to you about anything now. I have said all I will say. There is nothing else I can do but serve my god as best I can.’

‘And I have considered your words and kept your secret.’

She sighed. ‘Thank you, Magician. When the time comes, I know you will act properly.’ And she stepped away from the edge and towards the other two ladies and their god.

‘I wouldn’t believe too much of anything thoseOutlanders say to you, Samuel.’ It was Balten and he had strolled up to Samuel with his hands clasped behind his back.

‘I wouldn’t believe too much of anything you said, either,’ Samuel replied tartly.

‘Well said.’

‘You seem to be in high spirits these days,’ Samuel noted.

‘It seems we know each other quite well, Samuel. You can probably guess that I am doing my best to be civil. I’m just not very good at it. Not much practice, you understand.’

‘I think we can speak openly, Balten. I know you are here for your own reasons.’

‘Of course. Would it be any other way?’

‘So I am just interested to see what it is you have come for.’

‘In fact,I spoke the truth, Samuel. I am here to help keep you alive.’

‘And why no mention of your greater cause? You seemed so intent that I was to help you prevent the demons from returning. Don’t you want me to help you with that, or has the Demon King found some diversion to better occupy his time?’

Balten gave Samuel another of his wonderfullysecretive smiles. ‘Why,you are helping me already, Samuel. You do remember me mentioningthat you would help us whether you wanted to or not? Once again, you arebehaving splendidly, Samuel-all according to plan. The demons are coming, just as I said. Of that, we are surer than ever. The defence of our world is well underway. This battle, in itself, is an important step in that process. Many will die, but their bodies willpavethe path to our salvation.’

Samuel felt his temper rising. ‘When will you ever say what you mean? If you need my help so much, why don’t you just bloodywell ask for it? You say that the future of the world is so important, yet you’re not the least bit interested in those who live in it? How can you be such a hypocrite?’

With that, Balten’s smile dropped away and he changed expression to one of complete neutrality, in theway that only Balten could do, as if all his emotions were only calculated gestures of his face, crafted only to beguile those around him into believing he was human. ‘How can you control the fabric of matter and energy, Samuel, when you cannot even control yourself? Magicians cannot function as witless slaves to their emotions. Please, control your temper, Samuel. This is not the way a magician should behave.’

‘To hell with you and your lectures! I’m no lackey of yours.’

‘Very well. Then let me answer your question. I dobelieve that any number may be sacrificed to achieve our goal, for the outcome is paramount. Of course, I take no enjoyment from suffering, but I am aware that suffering must occur. Our victory will achieve an endless peace across the world. So, Samuel, can you tell me that a few lives matter, a few thousandoreven millions compared to the countless numbers that will die if the demons are allowed to continue their cycle of destruction?’

‘Yes, they do matter!’ Samuel said, enraged, for he could not forget that Balten had tricked and manipulated him in the past. Balten had sent him into exile in Tindal, and there he had met and loved Leila, before she was slain by Ash’s servants. He could not help but feel that Balten’s plotting had somehow contributed to Leila’s death. ‘People may mean nothing to you, but we are not all as heartless and hollow as you. No victory can be worth such deaths. The innocent cannot be sacrificed. No goal is worth it if such losses must be made.’

‘Noble thoughts, Samuel, but nothing that has not been contemplated countless times before and thoughts that I’m sure you will learn to reconsider in the coming future; far wiser minds than yours have pondered these concepts and it’s pleasing that you have at least started to consider them, as misguided as yourconclusionsmay be. Most people are just sheep, Samuel-hollow meat too ignorant to cultivate anything approaching self-awareness, yet alone a soul. I see you don’t agree, but I’m sure we will be discussing this further at length. I know you have things to do, so I will leave you to enjoy the view. I’m sure I smelled some tobacco earlier on and I only hope I can convince the owner to part with some before I go mad.’

With that, Balten strode off, sniffing the air. Samuel was leftstanding on the parapet,his cheeks burning with anger,andthe chill mountain air did little to cool his blood. It was only a few moments laterthathe noticed the Koian ladiesmoving towards him, escorting their god-woman between them, as if she would fall over the moment they released her hands.

‘Our god wishes to speak with you,’ Lady Leaf announced.

‘With me?’ Samuel responded, still with his blood boiling. ‘I thought she did not speak to us mortals.’

‘Not usually but,given the fact you will be acting as our guardian in the coming battle, she wishes to bestow upon you her blessing,according to our customs.’

Samuel had to admit he was interested to hear what the Koian woman had to say to him. ‘Very well,’ he said.

The god-woman shifted her head to look at the attendants beside her, and they took it as a sign to retreat. They did so, releasing her billowing sleeves and bowing before moving away. Young Lady River followed the older two, trailing her gaze onto Samuel. He could not forget what River had said about her god, but he could not bring himself to believe that a single woman was somehow capable ofliterallyconsuming the entire crew of their ship.

‘I am grateful you have kept your word,’ the woman before him hissed. ‘I was not sure if Turians were an honourable people.’

‘I am not Turian. And please, do not speak to me in such a voice. I know you can speak properly.’

The god-woman was thoughtful and looked over her shoulders to see if the others were within earshot. ‘I can,’ she said softly, clearing her throat as if the act of speaking with her own voice pained her.

‘Why have you come here? What do you want in this land?’

She seemed taken aback. ‘I do not want anything, Magician,’ she said softly. ‘We told you why we have come. I must be protected until the time of my rebirth.’

Samuel glanced to the ladies behind, who were looking towards him with concern. He would not have long before they returned. ‘Maybe that is what you believe, but your companions keep secrets from us. That is not the way of those who come with honest intentions.’

‘It is true, Magician. We have kept secrets from you, but nothing that could harm you. They are only our own customs and mannerisms. We have no ill intentions at all. We are a peaceful people. We seek only refuge from the violence that has destroyed our home and to repay you for your kindness.’

‘Peaceful? Why would someone so peaceful come with warriors in their midst?’

‘Warriors? I do not know what you mean.’

‘Your men. They are trained killers and not the simple servants you make out.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘You are mistaken. They tend to me,that is all. They are my servants.’

‘If you believe that, it is you who are mistaken.’

He could see the ladies edging nearer from behind and,somehow, she sensed it,too,and stood stiffly, silently.

‘That is all,’ she said, again in her croaking voice and she turned about in a flurry of tassels as the ladies scurried in beside her. They whispered into her ear and Lady Leaf and River whisked her away, while Lady Wind stayed behindmomentarily.

‘You have been honoured, Magician,’ she stated, scrutinising him up and down, before turning and striding away, leaving Samuel shaking his head in frustration.

Sir Ferse was strutting along the parapet looking quite annoyed and, with the strange conversations he had already had, Samuel thought there was no reason why he should not see what it was that wasdisturbingthe man.

‘Come see this, Samuel,’ he said uponespying Samuel’s approach. His voice was full of urgency. When Samuel arrived at his side, Sir Ferse started gesturing over the wall, down to the lower levels of the fortress. ‘Do you see those men?’

Samuel peered over and noticed a group of the Ghant defenders. They appeared to be on guard, standing together side by side with their backs to the citadel wall.

‘Yes?’

‘What does it look like they are doing to you?’ Sir Ferse asked.

Samuel took another peek. ‘They seem to be doing what soldiers do. Standing around. Holding weapons. Are they on guard, perhaps?’

‘Near enough. Now look up there, and over there,’ and he gestured to other squads of men at different heights along the citadel, all seemingly doing normal soldierlythings. ‘These men should be thrown into the chasm for all they’re worth. Better yet, General Mar should be. These men have forgotten what the Turian Empire stands for! The Empire was founded on precision and preparation, efficiency and obedience. Look what has happened! This is intolerable!’ The man was really quite flustered.

‘Calm now, Sir Ferse. It doesn’t seem quite so bad to me. They really don’t look any different to the soldiers in Cintar.’

Ferse took a deep breath and seemed to calm himself. ‘Of course. What would a magician know,’ he said quite factually. ‘The legions of Turia nearly managed to conquer the entire continent on several occasions, but each time-’ and he sighed, ‘-we failed because of some tiny oversight. You would never believe the incredible complexity of managing an empire,of directing armies of men across vast distances. The logistics are inconceivable. And,with every extra man,the complexity grows twofold. If you have reliable commanders beneath you, it eases the burden, but such men are hard to find. There are just too many fools, or too manywhofall into laziness, without someone watching their backs. Take General Mar, for example. He has been guarding this pass for about twenty years now and I have never seen things in such a state.’

‘You have been here before, then?’

‘Many times over the years. The responsibilities of Turia had us marching to all corners of the Empire and beyond, making inspections and attending formal occasions. Ah, but it doesn’t matter now. It’s funny. Never in my entire life did I ever question what I was doing. Every moment of myexistencewas for the Empire, but now, it just seems so pointless, as if I was working so feverishly that I was blind to what was true in the world.’

‘I find that is a common occurrence with Turians, Sir Ferse.’ Immediately, he regretted the words that had slipped from his mouth, for Sir Ferse scowled at him. He then attempted to cover his mistake with some subtle flattery. ‘Oh, don’t misunderstand me. Turians are the most noble of people but,as a Marlen, I can see that sometimes there are other things to value in life above the Empire.’

Sir Ferse gave a slow nod and looked to the mountaintops across the chasm, where the wind was blowing up enormous spirals of mist from the peaks. ‘You are right, Magician. Again, that is something I would never have considered. Perhaps, that is why the Empress was so treasured by our late Emperor over all his other wives. She was not of Turian blood and did not blindly follow her husband’s words without at least arguing with him first. Do you know, in more years than anyone could remember, the Emperor had never heard the simple word“ no”? They say,the first time she said it to him, he flew into a rage and tore half the palace to shreds, but she stood firmly and would not be dissuaded. When the Emperor finally calmed down, he had the sense to realise that she had been right. Not one of the advisers or accountants or politicians of the courthadever had the spine to say what they really thought and it had created this shroud of ignorance around the Emperor-a miasma of misinformation. Still, he could not have learnt all his lessons that day, for the Emperor made many more mistakes after that.’

At that, Samuel almost choked and had to pound himself in the chest. To hear such a statement from a Turian was almost unheard of.

‘You sound as if you knew them well.’

‘Who?’ Sir Ferse responded, turning his back to the mountains and lookingatSamuel as if he was surprised the magician was still there.

‘The Emperor and the Empress.’

‘Oh, yes. Of course I knew them. I have been in the court many years-more than most. That is why I have come on this journey-to somehow account for the errors of my past.’ He passed his gaze across the others gathered on the parapet, then looked back to Samuel, staring intently with barely a blink of his cool blue eyes. ‘Did you know, Samuel, that the Emperor did not have even one friend in all his life? I don’t want to be like that.’

‘He didn’t?’

‘I suppose it was because of the nature of his personality. He was a perfectionist to a fault and utterly demanding-unforgiving of failure.’

‘And something of a madman, on some counts.’

Again, Samuel’s mouth had run away from him, and he half-expected Sir Ferse to go berserk, but the man only smiled.

‘So some say. But let me ask you a question, Samuel. What would you do if you could take back the mistakes of your life and start anew?’

‘Are you referring to my last statement?’

‘Perhaps something a little more profound than that. If you could take back something terrible by doing something utterly wonderful, wouldn’t you leap at the chance?’

Samuel thought immediately of Ash and the day that Leila had been slain by the man’s lackeys, but he would not speak of it. ‘We all do things we live to regret, but they build us into the men we become. Fate moulds us and its efforts cannot be undone.’

‘But you succeeded, Samuel! You did revenge your family and you did kill the magician Ash. It is a story that now resounds around the city. Wasn’t that a wonderful feeling?’

‘You seem to know all about me.’

‘Your story has been told and retold by the people of Cintar in many forms now, Samuel, since you became its saviour. There are the occasional bits and pieces known only to a select few, but you can be sure those secrets will remain safe for the time being.’ The man did seem to know more about Samuel than he was letting on, and he noticed Samuel take a start at his words. ‘Don’t worry. You have nothing to fear from me, Samuel. I have no interest in your story, or the things you have done.’ Then he leaned closer. ‘In fact, by killing the Emperor, you did me a greater favour than you could ever realise.’

Samuel took a step back, not keen to become involved in any conspiracies the man had in mind. ‘I’m not at all sure what you are talking about, Sir Ferse.’

Sir Ferse laughed heartily and put his handsonthe battlement, leaning up against it. ‘You really have no idea how amusing the world is from my point of view. Anyway, we will have much to discuss in the future. We should focus now on defending this pass, for once Master Celios says our task is done, whatever it may be, we can continue on to our mission.’

‘So you have no idea why we must dally here?’

‘Not at all. Master Celios provides more puzzles with his visions than any questions he may answer. I have learnt to trust the man’s intuitions, despite his growing eccentricities, but I can never understand him.’

‘You seem confident that we will win here.’

‘Oh, I have no idea. But Ghant has never been overwhelmed before and I don’t see why it would be now,and,in reality,I no longer care. Master Celios has assured me that we will save young Leopold in the end, and that is all that matters.’

‘And his mother-the Empress?’

‘Well, yes, of course I hope we can save her, too. Every boy needs his mother. He is, of course, the future Emperor. Our hopes all rest with him.’

‘You are really something of an enigma, Sir Ferse. I am not sure I know how to react to you.’

Again, and just as mysteriously, Sir Ferse laughed aloud and stepped back from the edge of the parapet. He walked past Samuel and slapped him on the shoulder like a good friend. ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard this whole trip. Now, I must go see General Mar and scold him for his deficiencies. I’m sure he will have a fit.’

Samuel rested for the remainder of the day, but,as dusk fell,he returned to the parapet, for his senses had begun tingling within his skull. The occasional break in the cloudsaffordedthe briefest glimpse of the stars, so bright and clear up here away from the towns and cities. The comet he had first sighted in the woods around Rampeny was still present and it,too,peeked out whenever the clouds parted, itslongtail stretching behind it like afaintscratch of silver.

It had just ceased raining and the stones were left wet and glimmering in the torchlight. Fires had been lit all along the citadel walls to lend their light and men gathered around them for warmth.

There was some excitement now, for it seemed figures had been seen creeping about on the far side of the chasm. A few missiles were sent whistling across by the great mechanical devices, and the distant shadows could be seen quickly retreating.

‘What’s happening?’ Eric asked, rushing up beside Samuel. They stood at the wall’s edge, leaning between the battlements and peering out over what seemed like a sea of nothingness between the mountains.

The young Captain Ravenshood was directing the men there. ‘Magicians,’ he said coming over. ‘Tell me, what can you see?’

Samuel could easily sense a large number of men gathered out of sight across the chasm. ‘Their army comes, Captain. They amass in the valleys out of view and jostle in the paths that approach.’

Just then, a stream of mage-lights shot across the gap like burning arrows and Samuel looked to the heights of Ghant, where the telltale energies of Balten could be seen, pulsing and cavorting as he cast his spells. The hovering mage-spheres illuminated the far side brightly, clustered in the air.

Grand Master Tudor and Goodfellow came clambering up the stairs onto the parapet.

‘So they’re coming, are they?’ Tudor said, furrowing up his forehead and peering out over the wall’s edge. ‘Now we’ll see what they have planned for us.’

The night was deathly cold and the soldiers all around stamped their feet or huddled by the fires to keep warm. Clouds of tiny,winged insects gathered from the darkness to benearthe fires and the men swatted at them irritably. Occasionally, larger bugs zoomed into view and their wings buzzed about in the night. The Paatin army made no attempt to come forward, and so they waited for several hours,while Samuel thumbed the ring in his pocket nervously. Finally, a stirring in the pattern caught his attention. Something had begun.

‘Magicians!’ he hissed, and Grand Master Tudor heard him and focussed his own senses into the distance.

‘Yes, you’re right, Samuel. Magic is at work. So we know they have summoned their wizards. Now we shall see what kind of magic they have brought.’

Samuel continued staring out towards the Paatin. They were still far, for the narrow paths would only allow them to approach in a single column, but with so many men in such close proximity together, he had no trouble discerning their presence.

‘Tell me, Samuel,’ the old man implored. ‘What do you see?

‘They have spread out behind the mountain.’ Something high then caught his attention. ‘They are climbing the rocks.’

‘Those rock faces are sheer and treacherous,’ Captain Ravenshood said. ‘One or two skilled climbers could ascend them but,even so, the distance is far and there is no advantage to be had, except toactas lookouts. The chasm is much too wide to do them any good.’

‘Therearemore than one or two, Captain,’ Samuel informed. ‘I feel many. There are hundreds,perhaps thousands.’

The young man looked confused. ‘No. It’s not possible. And to what end, unless they plan to jump to their deaths?’

Time seemed eternal as they waited, eachscarcelydaring to breathe. All along the walls and parapets of Ghant, men stood, cradling their weapons and waiting nervously.

A yell sounded from somewhere below and the metallic clangs of battle ensued. After barely a few strokes, it seemed to have ended.

‘What’s this?’ Tudorasked, striding up and down the wall with concern. ‘Have they breachedthe citadel?’

Similar sounds of battle came from another direction and this continued for longer. Captain Ravenshood shouted commands and his banner-men signalled to General Mar up in his tower where he could oversee the defence. Screams and shouts sounded from other parts of the citadel and the magicians continued peering all around and into the darkness, ignorant of any sign of Paatin troops or what could be causing the disturbances. A flash of magic struck out from the heavens, and Samuel looked up towards Balten on his tower top. More flashes followed, streaking out into the air high over the chasm. With the clouds churning behind him, Balten looked like a god throwing bolts from the heavens. It was then that one of the citadel guards came running up the stairs to shout the alarm.

‘They’re in the citadel!’ he said. ‘All around! They’ve crossed the chasm!’

Captain Ravenshood stepped forward to ask the man how, when they all received the answer to his question. With a clacking sound, a dark-skinned Paatin soldier dropped from the blackness and landed atop the messenger, hacking him down with a long curved sword.

‘They fly!’ came a cry and it seemed to signal a rain of the Paatin upon them. Soldiers drew their swords and desperately fought to defend themselves from the caped desert-men who had somehow crossed the chasm. Tudor lashed out with azure streaks of magic that scorched Paatin cloth and flesh, and the Erics worked their spells feverishly, clearing the area of attackers. Samuel had his magic ring in his hand, fearful of using it, for the relic seemed to be burning him before he had even put it on.

The first wave of attackers was light and the Ghant soldiers managed to defend themselves. In the short calm that followed, Grand Master Tudor kicked over one of the smoking Paatin corpses and pulled back the man’s cloak with his staff. Revealed beneath, growing from the man’s shoulder blades were two sets of folded wings that reached down to his knees, veined likethose ofa dragonfly. The wings looked somewhat crushed beneath his body and they leaked a sticky,yellowish liquid that stank of squashed bugs. A residue of magic seeped from the things, and Samuel could sense that they had been recently grown, perhaps only minutes before.

It was only then that Samuel looked up, high into the darkness above the lights of the citadel, and his magician’ssightrevealed a sky full of men, sailing across the gap between the mountains like bees scrambling between flowers.

‘Incredible,’ Eric gasped, still looking at the body before them.

‘Yes, very remarkable,’ Tudor agreed. ‘I think now we can see how they intend to take the citadel.’

Samuel tugged the old man’s cloak and pointed to the sky above them.

‘Goodness,’ Tudor stated, looking up and was almost dumbfounded himself. ‘Captain!’ he shouted, despite the young man being directly next to him. ‘Signal General Mar! The Paatin are airborne and landing all over the citadel. Sound the full defence!’ The young man leapt to action and began shouting at his banner-men. ‘You three, get to our Koian friends and defend them. The Paatin could be throughout the whole place in moments. They are landing everywhere. If things look grim,remember our plan.’

The clacking of many wings gave them the slightest warning and another wave of winged Paatin invaders crashed down around them. The men seemed unfamiliar with their new appendages and some landed sprawling. Some broke their legs or arms as they fell hard. Others had trouble with their balance and fought awkwardly once they had landed. Individually, the dark-skinned desert-men were felled easily, but they began landing in greater and greater numbers. The soldiers on the parapet found themselves quickly being outnumbered, while Captain Ravenshood frantically called for more troops. Again the magicians struck out with their magic while Samuel sheltered behind them. He was forced to haveback against the battlements when some movements caught his eye, causing him to spinroundand face the chasm.

‘Grand Master!’ he called, and the old magician had to pull himself from the fray, strikingalanding Paatin down with blasts of magic and peering out after Samuel’s pointed finger.

While the Ghant defenders had been busy fending off the winged assault, other desert-men had now been able to rush out onto the far ledge. They carried large bows between three of them and they were hammering their devices into the stone. Readied, some of the men began shooting cables fair across the wide gap.Eachone wastipped with a barbed end that penetrated the fortress stone and dug in deep. Dozens more ropes started leaping across the chasm and,as soon as the rope had been pulled taut, the Paatin began shimmying across.

‘Captain!’ Tudor called out, but the man was occupied, defending himself from a trio of snarling desert-men.

‘Withdraw!’ the Captain cried, for the numbers of Paatin on the parapet had now become overwhelming.

Unfortunately, the magicians were now separated from the cluster of soldiers and could not reach the stairs. The Paatin had surrounded them, pinning them against the battlements. Samuel ducked and weaved, under and aside, from sword stroke and thrust. All his dexterity was tested as he moved from one magician’s stance to another, using his well-honed skills to move about as nimbly as a marketplace acrobat.

Spinning about and finally having a moment to spare, Samuel pulled the Argum Stone from his pocket and readied to put it on his finger. He knew the power would be difficult to control and here, in this tight space, the results could be disastrous, but the Paatin had tested his patience, and he was going to blast them all-to hell with the consequences.

A flash of magic caught his eye just as Balten came crashing down like a bolt of lightning. He landed amongst the pack of Paatin and those around him were thrown from their legs as the great wall shuddered beneath them.

‘Quickly,’ he motioned. ‘I have more to do than look after you.’

‘Infernal fool,’ Tudor muttered. ‘I was just about to do that.’

They darted down the stairs, leaving Balten to protect their backs. The man struck out with lashes of magic that had the Paatin screaming and throwing themselves to the floor as blood erupted from their eyes and ears.

‘Off you go!’ Tudor instructed. ‘See to the Koians. I will guard the crossing bridge. If the Paatin gain that, we will be in even greater trouble.’

They did as they were told, and Eric led the way, dashing through the halls and courtyards of the citadel as fast as they could. Some rooms were thick with fighting and others were strewn with General Mar’s defenders or Paatin bodies seeping yellow fluid. However, as they descended, the lower floors of the fortress seemednotto be infiltrated and the three magicians went largely unaccosted.

They spied a small group of blood-soaked soldiers guarding the hall and it took a moment to realise that one of them was Captain Orrell. Another of the gore-encrusted men was Lieutenant Valiant. When Orrell heard of their goal, he left Valiant to guard the passageway, while he accompanied the magicians to act in the defenceof the Koians.

They made the hallway where the Koians had been lodged and, calling out, they were dismayed to find the rooms all empty-all but the last. Lady River lay beside her bed, strewn on the rug with her limbs at bizarre angles, her hair fallen across her face.

‘A broken neck,’ Orrell said, squatting down beside her. He looked up at the magicians with suspicion. ‘It’s strange they chose not to stab her. The Paatin all have swords.’

A woman’s scream had them all running again and they followed the noises of battle into the dining room, following a trail of fallen desert-men. Stone, the Koian attendant was sprawled on the floor and although,not quite dead, Samuel could see the man had scant moments left, such were his wounds. A black shadow had nearly engulfed his life force and it marked his final breaths.

Further sounds drew them out into the outdoor courtyard where Samuel had first pursued Doonan. The Koians were there, surrounded by a group of Paatin. Lady Leaf lay dead on the stone, mouth agape and eyes open, with Cloud splayed out beside her. The woman had a single,deep gash to her middle, while Cloud had been stabbed countless times, as if his attackers had been afraid he would not stay dead. Around them was a pile of dead and twisted Paatin. Lady Wind and the god-woman stood in a corner hugging each other, with Horse standing defiantly before them, holding off the dozen or more Paatin. His stance was low and his fists were held out in clenched knots. His brow was dripping with sweat and his chest was heaving with pained exertion.

When the magicians came bustling in, some of the Paatin had turned their heads to see, and Horse acted like a released spring. In a blink,he had leapt up and snapped a Paatin neck with his foot. One hand reached out and pulled another towards him by the wrist, using the man’s sword to skewer one of his own. He then broke that man’s neck with a reach and a twist. Each one that died reeked with the same thick yellow fluid that had been saturated with perverted magic.

Captain Orrell watched on, for Horse had acted faster than anyone could believe, leaving them all standing as if rooted to the spot. ‘Well,that answers our questions.’

The remaining Paatin split themselves between the magicians and the defiant Koian, raising their swords and stepping forward with their mouths hanging open. The desert-men moved stiffly and with hazed eyes, as if the magic that had given them wings had also filled them with a poison that sapped their strength.

The Erics did not hesitate, striking out with their spells, knocking down the Paatin in succession and Horse broke the leg of one and quickly dispatched the final two with crushing blows to their chests, moving like a blur of destruction. With each blow he landed, a silver jet of energy-visible only to Samuel’ssight-flashed around his fists and feet, like sleeves of magic. Never before had Samuel witnessed magic summoned or used in such a way, but he had no time to consider it now.

Captain Orrell was left with nothing to do but wave his sword in a token fashion, for all the Paatin were dead.

Only then did Canyon come stumbling out of the water room. He looked at the pile of bodies, then his fallen country-folk and lastly the magicians. ‘This is intolerable,’ he said. ‘Our god is in danger and these accursed winged men come in greater and greater numbers. This fortress is lost. We must be gone from here.’

Horse nodded and relaxed from his fighting stance, readying to follow his leader. His knotted muscles unbunched and relaxed beneath his shirt as he took a great deep breath. It was like watching a great siege machine being disarmed,its tension mechanisms carefully released.

‘Magicians, follow us,’ Canyon suggested. ‘We will meet the others in the town as was suggested.’

‘But Ghant is not yet lost,’ Samuel refuted. ‘These winged desert-men are slow and the magic has poisoned their blood,’ and to demonstrate the fact, he kicked at a cloaked body at his feet. Fluid oozed out onto the stones with a sickly smell. ‘All we need do is prevent their main force from crossing the chasm. These men are only useful for a limited time. They are little more than diversions.’

‘And Grand Master Tudor is still with us,’ Goodfellow asserted.

‘And Balten,’ Eric added. ‘The battle is not over while we have them.’

Canyon seemed annoyed. ‘Then if you insist on holding onto this tomb of rock, we will not accompany you. As you can see, we have already lost half our number to yourdiversions. If you would, please escort us to the mounting yard and we will ride for Shallowbrook and await you there.’

Samuel looked to Captain Orrell for agreement. ‘Can we get there and back safely?’

Captain Orrell rubbed thoughtfully at his bristled chin. ‘We can do it, but we must be quick. If we are to make any difference in this battle, we must return before the odds are weighted too heavily against us.’

They agreed and started off, with Horse rushing away at the lead, so that the others had to race to keep up with him.

‘Where is River?’ Samuel asked of Canyon, seeking to test the man’s reactions.

‘She is also dead,’ the ambassador said, and pushed past Samuel back into the dining room. He gave nothing away in his voice.

Captain Orrell slipped in front and now led the way, with his sword readied, treading swiftly and carefully along the halls. He paused at each corridor and waved the group to passonly whenhe judged them to be safe. As the Captain had said, they saw no Paatin and only the occasional Ghant defender, rushing by to reinforce some struggling point of the defence.

‘We’ve lost our squad,’ one declared. ‘What should we do?’

‘Keep the halls clear,’ Orrell told him. ‘Make your way to the command room if you can. General Mar will need all the help he can get.’

The party finally spilled out from the fortress and into the night air. They hurried along the stone path that followed the ravine, away from Ghant and towards the stables. From here, they could see fires set all over the citadel, and the noises of battle echoed between the mountains.

On the other side of the ravine, every inch of flat ground was filled with Paatin, each waiting to be across the gap. The space across the chasm was filled with hundreds of glistening filaments; each one a strong cable that the desert-men madetheir wayacross as quickly as they could. There was something broken and burning at the bottom of the ravine, half engulfed in the savage river that churned there amongst the rocks. It was too distant and dark to see clearly, but Samuel guessed it was the crossing bridge. If the defenders truly feared they would lose Ghant, perhaps they had thrown it down to sabotage the Paatin advance as much as they could.

‘This is not good,’ Captain Orrell declared. ‘At this rate, they will overwhelm the citadel in no time.’

‘Then let’s get back there and help,’ Eric said. ‘I can see no more winged Paatin in the air, so the Koians will be safe here for the time being.’

‘Ambassador Canyon, can you ride to Shallowbrook from here?’ Samuel asked.

‘The battle is lost, Samuel!’ Canyon said. ‘Can’t you see? If you go back in there you will be killed and who will save your Empress then?’

‘It’s not over, yet. You are forgetting we are Magicians of the Order, and we can achieve what others find impossible. Besides, Master Celios is still in there, and whatever reason he had for us remaining at Ghant does not seem to have happened yet.’

They left the Koian survivors where they were and sped back towards the embattled fortress. Orrell left them within the main gate, taking the back route in attempt to make his way to General Mar, while the magicians took the direct route up the main stairs.

‘Master Celios is not always right, Samuel,’ Eric said.

‘I know, but I wasn’t about to leave anyone behind. Canyon only wants to save his own skin.’

They came out onto a long,rounded wall, looking down upon a large square where Paatin and Turian defenders were attackingeach otherfuriously like two nests of opposing insects. Most of the slower, winged Paatin seemed to have been vanquished, buttheyhad been replaced by their hardier comrades who had scaled across the chasm.

‘There!’ Goodfellow shouted, pointing into the throng.

Samuel followed his gaze and spied Master Celios and Sir Ferse caught amongst the battle. Master Celios seemed to be doing little except cower, while Sir Ferse dispatched almost every Paatin that came near with supple strokes of his blade. There was no doubt that Samuel had seen the man’s style before, for he fought with an inimitable,effortless grace that spoke of a master swordsman.

‘Well,don’t just stand there like fools,’ squeaked a little voice from beside them, and Samuel was surprised to notice that Doonan had sneaked up on them. The little man drew a tiny sharp object from his belt and flicked it down into the fray. A desert-man went down clutching his neck, but his shriek was lost in the cacophony of other cries and the clanging of steel that rang out all around.

They readied to cast their spells, when a blast of trumpets called from the heights of Ghant.

‘What is that? Goodfellow asked.

‘A call to aid from General Mar,’ Doonan stated.

‘But where is Grand Master Tudor?’ Samuel asked.

‘With General Mar,’ the dwarf replied.

‘Then let’s go,’ Eric stated. ‘They need our help.’

‘We can’t just leave,’ Goodfellow said with alarm. ‘These men will be overwhelmed.’

Doonan offered a suggestion. ‘If you magicians could use your spells to remove the cables that now span the chasm, the chances would swing in our favour. It is only their constant reinforcements that are keeping us overwhelmed.’

‘Eric,’ Samuel said. ‘What if you see to the cables? I will go to assist General Mar and, Goodfellow, you stay here and help as you can.’

‘Agreed,’ the other two asserted.

‘You won’t get to Mar directly. I know the way around,’ Doonan said and Samuel agreed to have the dwarf as his guide.

Eric hurried off to see to the cables, while Samuel started away with Doonan at the lead, leaving Goodfellow to throw his spells to Master Celios’ aid.

‘We must hurry,’ Doonan called, dashing along on his tiny legs. ‘We don’t want to get boxed in.’

They hurried through chamber and hall, along terrace and stairway. Several times,they had to turn back, either because they met a scene of battle or the way had been barricaded or broken. They stumbled upon the occasional lone Paatin warrior but Doonan dispatched each one with a flick of his wrist.

‘How many of those darts do you have?’ Samuel asked as they ran. ‘I’m assuming they’re poisoned.’

‘Deadly poison,’ he panted back. ‘Imported. Very expensive, too. I’m down to my last one, so after that you had better start earning your keep, Magician. I’m not made of money.’

They were running across a bridge that spanned two of the smaller towers when an incoming ball of magic alerted his senses and had Samuel diving to the floor.

‘Get down!’ he shouted and Doonan slapped to the floor like a dropped fish as the magic struck.

A boom sounded on the roof and the impact shook the wooden structure violently. One of the centre beams that ran along the ceiling broke in two with a sharp crack. It was not a spell that had hit them, however, for Samuel realised it wasactuallya magicianwhohad crashed onto the top of the enclosed bridge. With barely a pause, the person started off, bounding along the roof; each footstep was like a hammer blow, punching holes through the ceiling as the figure scrambled away.

‘A wizard!’ Samuel hissed, following the magic with his senses.

‘Om-rah!’ Doonan said. ‘He’s here!’

Samuel gained his feet as the little man was dusting himself off. ‘Who is that?’ he asked of the dwarf.

‘The Paatin arch-wizard. If he is here, we are in big trouble. Hereallyhates Balten!’

‘One wizard does not trouble us, dwarf.’

‘Then you are a fool, Samuel, to judge what you have not yet seen.’

Just then, the structure groaned and shuddered.

‘Come. We should be moving,’ Samuel suggested, but before he could start away another cluster of magic came flying in towards them. This time, the scent of the magic was familiar. ‘Balten!’

The second magician also landed atop their wooden structure, leaving Samuel and Doonan scrambling to hold on as it tore from its bracing and dropped several feet. They heard Balten swear and his boots also sounded along the roof, stomping away as he pursued the Paatin wizard.

‘Balten!’ Doonan cried aloud, but the man had already gone. He then turned his gaze to the exit they had been bound for, which was now at chest height, for the bridge had dropped by a fair amount. ‘Run, Magician!’ the dwarf called with alarm and began scampering for all he was worth. He reached the exit and leapt up, reaching the floor level with his two hands and dangling with his toes just shy of the floor.

Samuel was just behind and, grasping the little man by the waist, he shoved Doonan up and into the tower. He then clambered up beside him. Gathering his breath, he looked behind to see that the roof of the bridge was a wreck-smashed where the wizard had landed and pulverised in patches all the way along. Somehow, he did not relish meeting any man who could create such damage with his feet alone.

Beyond and below, the many levels of the citadel were speckled with fires and the shadows of men locked in deadly competition to win the fortress. The sounds of the battle carried up to him easily on the wind.

‘Come!’ Doonan called, already away along the carpeted hall. ‘We need to catch him.’

Samuel took a deep breath and started after the nimble,little man. Theyencountereda set of stairs and Samuel boundedup them in sets of three and four. He could feel Balten racing ahead of them, vaulting atop the rooftops and using his spells to run along the very walls. Furious spells spat out and the tower rocked with each booming explosion that struck against it. They came to a set of tight,spiralling stairs and Samuel raced up, pulling himself up by the hands as well as his feet, such was his hurry. Hecame toa trapdoor at the top,pushed it open and was out under the sky in one swift movement.

He found himselfuponone of the smaller towers that paralleled the main spire, still rising beside them like a great behemoth of slick stone. Balten was standing in front of him, breathing hard, with spheres of magic boiling from his hands. Ominously, Samuel realised he had come up facing the wrong way, for he could feel the magic of the Paatin arch-wizard behind him and he could almost feel theman’shot breath on the back of his neck. Slowly, he turned, to find a monstrous hulk of a man standing a few strides away. He waswrappedin shrouds of black cloth and a long,black cape was whipping behind him in the whistling wind. His features were indiscernible, for he was cloaked in shadow. All Samuel could tell was that he was a giant of a man, like one-and-a-half General Ruardins, and there seemed to be great slabs of armour jutting out from beneath his cloth. He was cowled in a hood, but his face was also hidden behind a veil of darkness and armour. Only his eyes could be seen, glinting in the darkness,and the magic that emanated from him had the same vile stink as the winged desert-men.

Doonan sprang up beside Samuel and, taking one look at the arch-wizard standing so near, he dived back down through the trapdoor like a rabbit back into its burrow.

‘Give the girl to me!’ Balten demanded, looking furious and ignoring Samuel altogether.

Samuel turned back to Om-rah, who drew one black-armoured hand out from beneath his cloak. Hanging from his fist was the limp form of the Koian god-woman. She was like a toy in his hands and he waved her around effortlessly. Her eyes were open, but she did not seem aware of what was happening to her-if she was, she showed no sign of it at all. At the same time, a hollow,echoing noise came stuttering out of Om-rah’s mask that could only have been some twisted form of laughter.

In one movement, the arch-wizard tossed the Koian woman aside and she disappeared over the edge of the tower, while he boundedbackwards, clearing the space between the two towers and clamping onto the smooth stone of the greater citadel like a limpet. Incredibly, there was barely a hint of magic in his movements; the man seemed to be using raw strength alone for such superhuman feats.

Samuel gasped as the girl fell, but Balten had already gone after her, diving head first and trailing furious magic behind him. Samuel was still standing dumbfounded when Balten came leaping up back onto the tower top with the girl cradled in his arms.

‘For goodness sake, Samuel!’ he said, shoving the girl towards him and looking highly annoyed. ‘Must I do everything? Get her to safety.’

And with that,he took off, springing across the tower top and vaulting the gap to the main tower, where he gripped on tightly with a Wall-walking spell. Om-rah had already clambered up and around the edge of the tower out of view, and so Balten stood upright, like a hair jutting out of the wall, and began after him, running sideways along the stones.

Samuel looked at the woman in his arms. She was looking back at him blankly and Samuel wondered if she was in some kind of shock.

‘Well,’ she said in her crackling voice, surprising him. ‘What are you looking at? Get me to safety, Magician.’

Samuel let go of her and she wobbled as she took her own weight. ‘I think I liked it better when you didn’t talk to me,’ he told her. ‘Come. Let’s go.’

He led her through the trapdoor and back down the spiralling stairs. He would have to forget General Mar and the others for now and get the Koian woman to safety. He only hoped theotherscould hold out for some time longer.

Doonan was nowhere to be seen, and so Samuel began descending the tower, pulling the woman behind him. It took some time to find another route that did not use the half-demolished bridge, but they soon did, stepping out of the tower and into a smaller storage yard squeezed between the tower and the mountainside.

Samuel paused a moment, trying to decide which way to go, when he felt a tug of magic at his senses. It was Grand Master Tudor, not far off, and so he began away again in that direction,dragging the Koian woman limply behind. Panting and puffing, Doonan caught up to them on his pudgy.little legs.

‘Where are you going now?’ he asked, eyeing the Koian woman suspiciously.

‘Grand Master Tudor is this way,’ Samuel replied, still moving.Hedelvedback into the buildings of the citadel, following his senses towards the magic of the old Grand Master.

After crossing only a few more rooms, the old man’s presence seemed almost abovethem. They passed through one broken and body-strewn room and the old man seemed just on the other side of a closed and bolted door. Samuel burst from the chamber with Doonan at his side, dragging the Koian god-woman by the hand.

‘He’s there!’ the little man squeaked, for Grand Master Tudor was amongst a group of armed men, with Captain Ravenshood, defending the great courtyard from the Paatin, who were spilling in from the opposite side, snarling and bearing their swords. The Grand Master’s magic had waned and was nearly at its end and he leaned on his staff heavily, directing the battle more than anything.

‘Samuel!’ he called wearily. ‘How relieved I am to see you. Quickly! Help us plug this nest of accursed Paatin.’

Samuel dropped the woman’s hand and took a step forward, then realised what he would have to do. Only with the Argum Stone on his finger could he tap the ether and gather magic for his bidding, but in this small room, the outcome could be disastrous.

‘What are you waiting for, Magician?’ Doonan cried from beside him, looking up with concern.

The Paatin were now filling the courtyard like sand spilling through a crack and the Turians began losing ground as they began to fall before the superior numbers of the savage caped desert-men.

‘Stand back,’ he told the two beside him and he took another step and drew the ring from his pocket, holding it before him with his other hand readied to receive it. ‘I’m ready,’ he said softly, only to reassure himself.

He was about to put the ring on his finger when something sharp struck him. A stabbing pain crippled him in the back of the leg and Samuel tumbled over.The ring!Itwas all he could think as he lost grip on the thing and it fell from his grasp. Before he could struggle to his feet or determine what had felled him, a weight leapt upon his chest and another pain ripped between his ribs. Doonan was there, sitting upon him, grinning savagely and holding up his bloodied dagger.

The pain was blinding and Samuel could not help but scream aloud. It took him a few moments before he could gather his sense enough to subdue the feeling, cutting off all sensation that assaulted his mind, using his magician’s discipline. He blinked his eyes and tried to refocus his watery vision.

‘Why?’ he asked of the dwarf who satonhim. His lips felt numb and he almost felt as if he was floating behind his own face; such was the effect of subduing his senses to such a degree.

‘Another test for you, Magician,’ was all the horrid little man would say as he wiped his knife clean on Samuel’s cloak. ‘Survive this, and you will be ready. Die and you were never right in the first place. All I can say is,I hope it’s the latter. You really are a pain.’

‘Balten?’ he asked, groggily, oblivious to the fighting still going on all around him.

But Doonan only laughed. ‘There are some things that even he is not aware of, Magician. My orders come from Cang. Perhaps you will live to take the matter up with him, someday. Then again-perhaps not.’

The Koian woman stood stiffly near the doorway, holding her hands clasped to her chest. She did not look so much afraid, as somehow revolted at the sight of Samuel’s blood.

‘Oh, I doubt she has the sense to help you, Magician, but she is welcome to try,’ the dwarf said. ‘I’ve never seen such a sorry excuse for a human being. I would stab her, too, but she looks hardly worth the effort.’

Doonan then got off him and trotted out of view, leaving Samuel writhing in his own blood upon the slippery floor. The clanging of steel and shouts echoed in his ears and it was not until he heard his name being called that he arched his head and looked upside down towards the battle. Grand Master Tudor was shouting his name desperately and trying to fight his way through the Paatin to reach him,swinging his staff wildly and imbuing it with mage-fire that sent Paatin warriors flying like flicked crumbs from a breakfast plate. But the old man’s magic was already thin and the Paatin were thick about him like flies to a bloody sore.

Samuel managed to roll over onto his chest, but that was about as much effort as he could muster. His lifeblood was spilling from him much too fast and he felt he would not survive much longer. Without his magic, there was no way to heal himself. There, just out of reach, his salvation lay in a slender silver ring. He clawed his hand out towards it, but no matter how much he strained, his fingers only trembled on the stones, barely a nail’s length short.

‘Master-’ Samuel heard himself mutter, for he was trying to call someone, but he could not quite remember whom. Boots jostled about him and several times he felt himself being kicked roughly and stomped upon. Whether it was purposeful or just that the Turians and Paatin were heedless of his presence, Samuel was not in the mind to consider. He could only lie with his chin on the stones and look blankly at the figures struggling all around him as they became dark and fuzzy shadows of themselves.

Time seemed to act strangely from that point on. There was a flash of darkness and a flash of light and, in what seemed like only seconds later, Samuel opened his eyes to find himself standing upright in the middle of the courtyard. Some time must have actually passed, for the courtyard was now empty. The entire scene had changed dramatically, save for the god-woman still standing mute by the doorway. There was no sign of the battle and all was quiet, bar the distant shouts of battle from elsewhere in the citadel. Even the bodies of the battle had been cleared away as if everyone had cleaned up and moved on, ignoring him in his place on the floor.

The Argum Stone was on his finger after all, arcing silver fire and his wounds were all healed. Wearing the ring did have a way of disorienting him, so Samuel pulled it off and cast it back into its place in his pocket, wondering what could possibly have occurred. His mind was still tingling and confused from the infusion of power. All he could think was that he must have somehow reached the ring and healed himself.

‘What happened?’ he asked the Koian woman, but she only looked back at him blankly.

‘They are gone,’ was all she croaked.

Samuel scratched his head. ‘Then we must find them.’ He scanned the room once more, now eyeing the swords and shields and abandoned armour scattered across the floor. A length of wood was lying in the corner of the room, poking out from a pile of cloth, and he was about to have a look when Doonan came tiptoeing into the courtyard towards him, peering around the edge of the doorway.

When the little man saw Samuel and the woman, he squeaked with fear. ‘Argh!’ he cried and turned on the spot, darting away.

‘Why you little monster!’ Samuel swore and started after the dwarf, grabbing the god-woman’s hand as he passed and dragging her along with him.

‘A demon! A monster!’ came the cries of Doonan from ahead, but the sounds abruptly stopped with a screech.

Samuel only had to round the next corner to see what had happened. A cluster of Paatin waswaiting there and one already had his boot on Doonan’s corpse,trying to pull his sword out of the little man’s chest with some difficulty.

‘Infernal savages!’ cried Balten, coming from the other way along the passage, and he cut the desert-men down with a storm of twisting sparks.

He looked at Doonan for a moment, as if genuinely concerned, but it was fleeting, and he turned to Samuel. ‘This way.’

‘Have you seen the Grand Master?’ Samuel asked him. ‘He must have come this way.’

Balten considered his answer momentarily. ‘No, but the citadel is lost.’

‘He tried to kill me,’ Samuel said, pointing to the dead midget.

Balten looked truly puzzled. ‘I don’t know why. That was not part of my instructions.’

‘Then it’s something I will need to bring up with yourMaster when I meet him. Now, I must get back to General Mar. Can you lead her out of here safely? It’s too dangerous here.’

‘If that is what you wish, Samuel,’ Balten replied, and he winced, showing weakness for the first time that Samuel had known the man. There was a tear in his coat and a dark stain around it. ‘As you can see, I am injured-Om-rah escaped, but I managed to give him a few wounds of his own to go and lick. Unfortunately, his blood has poisoned me, but it’s nothing I cannot withstand. I have enough strength left to take her to safety, but I will need to rest before I am much use.’

‘Very well.’ Samuel then turned to the god-woman. ‘Go with Balten, back to the others.’ He turned again to Balten. ‘I seem to have accrued more than my fair share of debt with you.’

‘Be that as it may, I do what I must.’

With that, Balten left, granting the girlintow no more gentleness than had Samuel. Her eyes,still devoid of any expression,trailed upon Samuel as she was dragged away.

Samuelhastenedoff again. It seemed as if this night would never end, and he had traversed up and down the height of the citadel more times than he cared to recall. It was worrying that he could not sense the old Grand Master anywhere nearby, but it was easy for one man, even one as powerful as old Tudor, to become lost amongst the energies of so many others. As he clambered along, he felt two other familiar magicians nearby and he began calling out for them.

‘Eric!’ he called and,for once,it was convenient to have two friends with the one name.

The two of them came rushing in toward him. They both were drenched with sweat and covered in blood. Goodfellow had black soot smeared across his face and his eyeglasses were chipped in one corner.

‘Samuel!’ Goodfellow exclaimed. ‘The citadel is swarming with Paatin and the general is trapped within the main tower. His trumpets still call out for help, but there is no one left to go to his aid. We thought you would have been there by now.’

‘I ran into some trouble. I’m off to find him now.’

‘What about the Grand Master?’ Eric asked.

‘I saw him,’ Samuel said, ‘but I passed out. I have no idea where he’s gone now.’

‘We came this way looking for him,’ Eric continued. ‘We felt his power rise and then vanish. I hope he has not been overcome.’

‘I hope not,’ Samuel said.

‘But how will we get to the general. The tower is now filled with the Paatin.’

‘Balten seemed to have a decent method,’ Samuel said. ‘The inside of the tower may be taken, but the outside walls are free.’

‘Good idea!’ Eric said,with boyish enthusiasm. ‘Let’s go.’

They made for the closest courtyard and the three of them looked up at the towering chunk of polished stone above them.

‘We still need to make our way across the rooftops. We can climb the smaller towers and then get across to the main structure.’

Eric agreed. ‘Wall-walking spells will do fine. I felt a Paatin wizard earlier, but he seems to have gone.’

‘Yes,’ said Samuel. ‘That was Om-rah. Balten said he has been wounded and has withdrawn, so we should not be accosted if we move quickly.’

‘I was going to try Gallivan’s Leaping spell to speed things along a bit.’

‘My thoughts exactly,’ Samuel said. ‘Eric, can you manage that?’ he asked, turning to Goodfellow.

‘I think so,’ the sandy-haired magician said. ‘If one of you goes first, I will do my best to follow.’

Eric nodded and prepared himself, summoning his power. Then, exhaling slowly, he formed the spell and gave a great jump as he did so, springing up onto the nearest rooftop and landing with a crash and a clatter. The spell was wellformed and Samuel was again impressed with his friend’s talent.

‘I’m all right!’ he called backina slightly pained voice. ‘Just don’t forget to brace when you land! Why do they put all these things up here? It’s covered in pots and pans and all sorts of rubbish.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ Samuel said. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked of his remaining friend.

‘I think so,’ Goodfellow said, with a dash of uncertainty. He prepared the spell and hopped on the spot, landing back in place awkwardly. ‘Oh,’ he said, looking embarrassed. ‘I forgot something.’ With that,he tried again, preparing the spell and making a jump. Simultaneously, he released his magic and successfully vaulted up onto the roof, while Eric was already bounding off to the next highest platform. ‘Come on!’ he then called back. ‘It’s easier than it looks.’

‘Really?’ Samuel asked, for it did seem quite a difficult task.

‘No,’ came his friend’s reply, and with that he cast a second spell and followed after the first Eric.

Samuel swallowed hard. He had a nervous lump stuck in his throat, for the idea had sounded promising, but now he actually had to use the ring he was having second thoughts. It seemed the last time he had used it, he had completely losttrack of time and he had no wish to repeat such an occurrence.

He drew the silver circle out of his pocket and slid it gently past his second knuckle, feeling the familiar rush of power that accompanied it. ‘Here goes nothing,’ he said to himself. He called to the ring and formed his spell, bending his legs in preparation. ‘Just a little…power.’

Release.

The rushing air blinded him and whooshed in his ears. He could feel the lack of hard stone beneath his feet and knew he must have met some success, but he only slowed enough to open his watering eyes once the initial power of the spell had burned away.

A sense of weightlessness surrounded him. He was thrilled with his success for the spell had worked well. He had been thrown high into the air and had now reached the apex of his leap and was momentarily suspended in mid-air. All he would have to do now was land. As gravity began to do its work and takehold of him once again, he looked down with a horrible realisation, for the Leaping spell seemed to have worked a little too well. He was far above his target; indeed, he was far above the highest tower of Ghant, above even the nearest peak. The lights and fires of Ghant were far below through the misty clouds and he could see a string of torchlights of the Paatin army forming a river that stretched between the mountains across the chasm. Most of the lights were from torches, but intermittently spaced along the column were the silver outlines of wizards, which only he could see. On the western side of the mountains, the town of Shallowbrook was a cluster of tiny,glowing specks far away.

The air was freezing and he was dropping like a rock, feet first, with his robes whipping up and around his face as he picked up even more speed, falling faster and faster with every instant.

Fear had no time to overtake him, for he began calling to the Argum Stone on his finger as gently as he could. ‘Slow me down! Slow me down!’ he called into it, trying to pluck the tiniest scraps of power from it, lest another burst of Leaping should send him to the moon. Below, he could see the tiny magic-lit figures of Eric and Goodfellow just landing atop the main tower and he could almost sense them complaining about him and wondering what was taking him so long. He hoped the Argum Stone would not fail him, or otherwise he would surprise his friends more than they could imagine once he landed beside them with a great,fleshy splash.

Slowly, slowly the ring lent himitspower. He scraped the tiniest sparks of magic away from its edge and used them to forge a spell that would hopefully slow his descent. Still, he was falling fast and he only hoped he had precisely the amount of power he needed.

He sent the spell out below him and,luckily enough, it slowed him as he had hoped. Hurriedly, he drew some more fragments of power and cast his spell again. The tower top loomed nearer and nearer and,although he was slowing all the while, it still did not seem to be enough. His legs flailed beneath him as he tried to steady himself and he wailed out loud with concern for his own predicament. He was not in control of his own lungs, but he could feel his volume increasing in proportion to the tower’s approach. He had time for one last expulsion of power and so he tried to ignore everything else as he cast the final spell as carefully as he could. The magic slowed him once more, but there was no time for anything else.

The Erics seemed to be searching for the source of the approaching cry of fear, but neither hadyetthought to look directly up.

‘Eric!’ he called from above his two friends, and just in time. The two of them looked up to find him droppingdirectly ontothem and Eric threw up a spell at the last instant to catch him. It cradled his fall, but he still landed quite heavily.

‘I’ve got you!’ Goodfellow called, holding out his hands as if to catch a baby.

‘No!’ Samuel called, but Goodfellow was beneath him. The two of them crashed together, leaving Samuel sprawled on top of his flattened friend.

‘Are you all right?’ Eric asked with concern.

‘Yes,’ Samuel groaned.

‘No!’ Goodfellow protested. ‘I think you’ve broken my bum. What were you doing up there? I thought you were behind us?’

‘I miscalculated a little,’ Samuel said, standing and helping his bruised friend to his feet. ‘It doesn’t matter. Quickly. We can climb in through the window.’

It only took a minor effort for each of them to swing over the edge and clamber into the command room. They called out their presence as they did so, not wishing to be set upon by any nervous soldiers.

Inside, they found Captain Yarn surrounded by the last of his men. Bodies of Turians and Paatin lay spread about the room and it was obvious that at some stage the door had been broken in. It was now barricaded with what little furniture has been in the room, and Samuel could easily sense the Paatingatheringon the other side. General Mar lay on the floor, with bandages tied tightly around his middle. He was still leaking blood from a wound that would soon see him dead and his face was as white as a sheet.

‘Magicians!’ Captain Yarn called out. ‘Thank goodness you have arrived. We must get the general to safety.’

But General Mar would hear none of it. He coughed and clawed his fingers towards the magicians, signalling for them to come to his side. ‘The citadel must be destroyed,’ he gasped, with wet and laboured breaths. ‘If the Paatin have it, they will control the passage to the east. Cast Ghant into the chasm and their path will be blocked. Their host cannotbe allowed topass this way or they will have free reign of inner Turia.’

‘But how?’ Samuel asked of the dying man.

‘It was Tudor’s plan. Bring down the walls and towers of Ghant and half the mountain will follow. He was supposed to be here to see us through, but it seems he, too, has fallen. He should have been here long ago.’ The muscles in the gruff general’s jaw bunched up and he stiffened in pain. There was no way to plug up the ruin that had been done to the man.

With that, General Mar perished,his scintillating aura of energy swallowed up by the darkness of death. Captain Yarn bent down and closed the dead man’s staring eyes with the palm of his hand.

The three young men looked at each other with concern.

‘How can we do it?’ Eric asked. ‘I can’t imagine that even Grand Master Tudor was capable of bringing down this place. What could he have had planned?’

‘A Moving spell of some kind,’ Samuel suggested. ‘Perhaps if we could damage Ghant’s foundations, the main tower would follow.’

Eric shook his head. ‘I don’t think any of usiscapable of such a feat. And where do the foundations begin? This place is spread over half the mountainside. Samuel?’

But Samuel only shook his head.

‘Do you thinkthe Grand Masteris really dead?’ Goodfellow asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Eric replied, ‘but in his absence, his responsibilities fall to us.’

Samuel considered the ring. It had enough power for a single,staggering blow before it overwhelmed him, but he was not even certain that such a spell would be enough. ‘I can’t think of any sure way that we can destroy this place,’ he had to admit.

‘With a Manyspell,’ Goodfellow then said with sudden enthusiasm. ‘Together we can do it.’

Samuel was not convinced. ‘Do you think that even our combined power would be enough? We need to obliterate the place, not just let it slide into the chasm and form a bridge from the rubble, and anything so powerful would be dangerous for anyone nearby-namely us.’

Goodfellow seemed confident. ‘I have a plan. If we make a spell and turn it in upon itself, then we can intensify the power manyfold. We can let it build until it has enough power to obliterate this place and Eric can Journey us away at the last moment.’

‘Can you do it?’ Samuel asked the dark-haired magician. ‘Can you take us all?’

Eric dwelled on the thought only momentarily. ‘I think so, but it won’t be easy. Up ’til now, I’ve onlyusedthe spell on myself and anything within about arm’s length. I’ve never tried taking people with me, but I don’t see why not. I can take other things so you two should be no different.’

‘Captain,’ Samuel said and the portly Captain Yarn, now commander of Ghant, stepped to attention. ‘Sound the retreat-a full evacuation of the citadel. We will give you as much time as we can, then we will destroy Ghant.’

‘So be it,’ the man said and alerted his staff. They immediately began blowing their shrill horns and the alarm was taken up and repeated from stations all over the citadel.

‘I will stay and help you however I can,’ the gruff captain declared.

‘No, you can’t help,’ Samuel told him. ‘Do your best to clear the fortress. All you need to do is shut the door on the way out. We will do the rest. Ghant shall be decimated and the Paatin shall not pass, as required.’

‘What a sad day, but our defeat is a not total loss as long as Ghant does not fall into the hands of the Paatin. We should be able to escape if we can just make the next floor. This place is filled with hidden rooms and passages that I’m sure the Paatin have yet to discover. But what about you? How will you escape?’

‘Don’t worry. We don’t intend to die,’ Eric told him. ‘Now hurry. We will prepare the spell now. It will take some time, but once it’s ready, we will not be able to delay.’

Captain Yarn began barking orders and his men gathered what they needed and burst from the room with a roar and a clatter of swords upon the desert-men lurking there. One of Yarn’s men carried a short bugle and he blurted out a series of rasping notes as they went, repeating it over as they fought their way free.

Once they had gone, it was eerily quiet in the room. Eric crafted a spell of Bonding upon the shattered door to keep it held tightly shut, and ensured the task by using his spells to wedge the tables and benches into place.

‘There,’ he declared. ‘The door is sealed. Let us begin.’

Samuel took one last look out of the high window. Below he could hear shouts and see Turian men in the act of abandoning the fortress. Whatever kind of signal Yarn’s man had played, it was potent, for the soldiers literally turned and fled as the sound was propagated all around, leaving the Paatin cutting the air behind them.

‘We should start,’ Goodfellow stated, and the three of them stood together in the centre of the room. ‘I will charge the spell. Samuel, you shield and contain it. Eric, you help me mould the magic and keep it stable. At the end, you will need to prepare our escape-and quickly. Samuel? Can you do it?’

Samuel already had the ring from his pocket and was turning it over in his fingers. Goodfellow was looking at him intensely and Samuel was sure from his looks that he somehow knew about his dependency on the thing. Eric was looking between them both, but his eye had not yet fallen onto the relic in Samuel’s fingers.

‘Are you going to help us or not?’ Goodfellow asked him again. ‘We need you, now. This is not the time to hesitate.’

‘Of course,’ Samuel told him. ‘I can help.’

With that, he put his finger into the Argum Stone and fell into its depths. The power took hold of him and shook him, but he seemed to be growing more accustomed to the shock of being submersed in such boundless magic. After barely a heartbeat had passed, he calmed the power raging within him and looked at his friends with clarity. ‘I am ready.’

Goodfellow formed a cradle with his hands and began to fill the space between them with power. He began slowly, letting it build up from a trickle while he came to terms with its foundations, then he let more and more energy fill the space, as fast as he could manage. A banging sounded at the door, followed by a solid thumping and the barricade began to shudder. The stone around the door jumped and mortar cracked.

‘They are coming,’ Eric said, eyeing the cluttered doorway, but Goodfellow only hushed him with an urgent look.

The spell was growing and Samuel now set about crafting a barrier to hold the spell within. He called to the ring and seized hold of the power that came stampeding out of it. Luckily, in summoning a shield, the more power the better and Samuel locked his attention onto Goodfellow’s spell, and his spell shuddered to life around it-a tremendous barrier of solid energy. It held Goodfellow’s magic in place firmly and the bespectacled magician nodded at the result and then continued to pour his magic inside as quickly as he could.

‘Eric!’ Goodfellow called, now sweating and it was Eric’s turn to assist, for the spell was now growing chaotic, churning and struggling inside its prison.

‘Reduce the shield,’ Goodfellow said and Samuel did so, squeezing the energy into a tighter space. The magic within began screeching and squawking as it struggled against him.

The spell was sparking and fitting wildly, but Goodfellow continued to intensify it, folding it upon itself again and again, reducing it down and building it in intensity each time.

‘It’s getting hot, Samuel,’ Goodfellow stated and Samuel altered his shield, suddenly cutting off the rising heat that had been building inside. The power of the ring had begun burning through him and his bones began to resonate with its power. The nerves in his teeth began to feel as if they were lanced with fire.

‘Is it enough?’ Eric asked with concern, as a bench shuddered and fell away from the doorway.

Goodfellow only shook his head. ‘I think we need much more.’

Eric then began to pour his own power into the spell. Great volumes of energy spilled forth from the man and joined with Goodfellow’s.

‘Save enough to get us free!’ Samuel hissed to him. The two Erics were both potent magicians and when this magic was released, even if it did not damage the citadel, it would certainly not be good for anyone still in the room.

Eric was not concerned. ‘Don’t worry. I can get us out of here in a heartbeat.’ And he continued adding his magic into the pool.

The spell in Goodfellow’s hand now contained a terrible intensity of power, similar in magnitude to the Great Spell that had originally transformed the Argum Stone from rock to ring. As if on cue, thunder called from outside the tower, for it was the way of nature to become unsettled when such unnatural amounts of magic were gathered or expended.

Goodfellow began shaking with exertion and his hands were trembling from the effort. ‘I don’t know how long I can keep this up.’ He looked at Eric. ‘It’s nearly time. Start the Journey spell before I lose control.’

Eric stood back and took a few deep breaths. He had used a lot of power, but he seemed to have a great deal left. Again the door behind them boomed and shook as the Paatin rammed into it with something massive.

‘They will be in here any moment, so we need to leave, Eric,’ Samuel said with concern, gritting his teeth with effort. ‘And I don’t know how long I can keep up these shields.’

‘What will happen when it does release?’ Eric asked. ‘What kind of spell is it?’

‘It’s no kind of spell, only undirected magic-raw potential. It will be energy ripping in all directions-heat and light, force and wind. It will be utter destruction to anything it touches. If it is powerful enough, it will tear the ether and the citadel will be destroyed,for sure. At least, that’s our theory.’

A ripple of lightning flashed from outside and the pain continued through Samuel until he, too, was shaking from the effort.

Eric began work on his Journey spell, hastily crafting it from memory and instinct. It began to build around him like an orb of intricate design, etched in countless tiny traces and lines of magic. ‘It’s ready,’ he said after only a few moments, locking the spell into place.

Samuel was relieved, for he did not think he could maintain himself any longer. He only wished he was not struggling so much, for he had missed the chance to memorise the missing pieces of the Journey spell for himself.

‘It’s all right, Samuel,’ Goodfellow told him. ‘You don’t need to hold the spell any longer. We only need it to last another few moments. Once I release it, there will be nothing stopping it anyway.’

‘Are you sure?’ Samuel asked and he could hear the desperation in his own voice.

Goodfellow nodded. ‘Are you really sure?’ he asked again.

‘Yes!’ Goodfellow declared. ‘Now stop it before you kill yourself.’

That was enough for Samuel, and he pushed his power back into the Argum Stone and ripped the thing from his finger. At once, he felt cool relief, stumbling away from the others and flapping his hands to cool them. He dropped the ring back into his pocket where Eric could not see.

It was then that Goodfellow gave them the grave news. ‘Unfortunately, we’ve made a small oversight. I’m afraid you will have to leave without me.’

‘What’s that?’ Samuel asked him.

‘If I stop for even a moment, the spell will release. It is only my adding to the spell that is keeping it stable. Your shield is not enough. I can’t leave or it will kill us all.’

‘Nonsense,’ Eric told him. ‘I can Journey us away the moment we are ready.’

Goodfellow only shook his head. The incandescent spell between his hands reflected in his eyeglasses like unholy firelight. His fingers were glowing red, with the shadows of his bones visible at their middle. ‘That won’t be quick enough. I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t realise it would be like this.’

‘Then I can bring the spell to you. We will all Journey away and leave the spell behind.’

‘How will you separate me from the spell?’ Goodfellow asked. ‘I’m holding onto it. You would have to cut my hands off.’

Eric and Samuel looked at each other with dread.

‘Then that’s how it will have to be,’ Samuel said

‘Oh, no,’ Goodfellow retorted. ‘I hate to say it, but if you even bring your Journey spell near to me, it will destroy us. This spell is much too unstable. It will draw in your magic and then we would all be dead.’

‘I’m afraid he’s right,’ Samuel said after a moment’s careful thought. ‘That spell is chaotic. Anything could happen.’

‘We can burn it off, Samuel! Cast it out the window!’ Eric yelled, for the hellish noise of Goodfellow’s spell was becoming louder, a constant flurry of crackling and squealing as it struggled to be free.

‘We would need something enormous to use that much power. What do we have? Even attempting something like that now could be disastrous. Trying to tap the spell as it is could set it off.’

Eric now had tears streaming down his cheeks. ‘No, Samuel,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘We can’t leave him!’

There seemed to be no alternative. Even if the room werequiet and he had time, it would be difficult to think of some way to defuse the nightmarish power they had summoned. Samuel could only shake his head. They had made a dreadful error in judgement.

‘Go!’ Goodfellow yelled. ‘Go now! Go!’ He was shaking feverishly to contain the spell.

‘Eric!’ Samuel roared out, shaking his friend by the shoulders. ‘We have no choice. We have to leave-now!’ He was within the bounds of the Journey spell. All Eric had to do was release it and they would both be away from the room-away from Goodfellow, Ghant and its immediate destruction.

Eric was loose in his grip, as if he had given up hope.

‘Eric! There’s nothing we can do!’ Samuel bellowed again, looking over his shoulder to the struggling form of Goodfellow. ‘Release the spell!’

It was then that three things happened,each one barely a fraction of a second after the last. First, the door burst open as a great length of timber came crashing in. Through the splintered gap,they could see thatthe hallway was full of Paatin, some of them shimmering with magic, and they began stepping over the broken pieces of wood and surging into the room. Second, with the last spark of his willpower, Goodfellow pushed all the power of his spell as tightly as he could, down into one tiny spot, so it looked as if the thing had swallowed itself into a single atomic speck. The crackling and the hissing and shrieking of the spell all ceased, and the room was deathly quiet. Goodfellow looked up at them with a glum but contented look in his eye. The third thing that happened was that Eric Pot triggered his Journey spell and,in the next instant,he and Samuel were standing in the cold night air of the mounting yard, far along the ravine and surrounded by the last fleeing remnants of Ghant’s defenders.

They heard a noise; a sharp crack followed by a hollow boom and they turned their heads towards the vast central tower of Ghant. Night turned to day and the mountain fortress disappeared in a sudden,blinding flash. A wave of violence rippled up the mountainsides and the storm clouds fled before it. The boiling wind hit everyone in the mounting yard with a deafening noise and the earth bucked them from their feet, sending man and horse alike sprawling over. Eric fell, too, for his strength had been sapped from him, drawn away by the fading luminous lines of his Great Spell. Only Samuel still stood to witness the death of Ghant.

As the initial blast passed him by, it could be seen that the top of the citadel was gone and the rest of the structure had begun to fall in upon itself. With a massive rumbling, the mountainside on which the fortress was forged began to slide away and was swallowed by an enormous plume of billowing dust. That was when the soldiers all around him began to yell in fear.

‘Go,go,go!’ they yelled and every soldier scrambled to his feet and fled for all he was worth, away from the chasm’s edge and down along the mountain path. The earth tremored and the shaking grew into a mighty swaying as boulders and slabs of solid stone the size of houses came crashing down amongst them.

Samuel had Eric by the collar of his robes and was pulling the magic-weary magician along behind him. His last sight of Ghant was of it slipping into the dust-shrouded chasm, ripping away from the mountain and taking the entire lip of the ravine with it. Those Paatin who had made it from the citadel were gone, crushed or thrown to their deaths. Those on the far side of the chasm began retreating as much as they could, for the far ledge had also begun to give way. Their entire army had pushed up behind them and stones fell on those in equal proportion as they fled.

Ghant was lost. The cost had been great, but the Paatin horde would not cross this way.

‘Samuel,’ Eric called as he was dragged and pulled by Samuel down the narrow valley approach. He had seemed to recover some of his senses. ‘Is it done? Did we make it?’

‘We did,’ Samuel said. ‘Ghant has been destroyed.’

‘Where is Eric? What have we done to our friend?’

‘He is dead,’ Samuel replied. ‘Now come. Let us get to Shallowbrook. We have much to do.’