Pilgrim went to Seeker, finding her stunned and barely conscious. A loud and ominous crack from above, followed by a cascade of dust, convinced him to gather her up and hurry towards the exit. The Crescent began to crumble before he carried her free of the structure, dodging falling masonry. He didn’t pause when outside, running across the bridge to the gate beyond. The iron bars had been wrenched and bent to create an opening, presumably the result of Player’s inhuman strength. Pilgrim ducked through and turned to watch the Crescent collapse into itself as if drawn by some internal fist. Dust billowed in huge clouds as the giant curve toppled and shattered. The destruction seemed to act as a contagion, spreading to the bridge which cracked from end to end before tumbling into the chasm below. The gate and the surviving pillar went next, fragmenting into ever-smaller pieces until they were mere mounds of dust soon to be scattered by the wind.

Pilgrim saw the bodies of the supplicants littering the glass sea, itself rapidly turning to black sand that soon covered them in dunes. The clouds that had shrouded this place parted, allowing sunlight to bathe the newly crafted desert and the mountains beyond. Although it lay far beyond his sight, he knew the City of Spires would also now be turning to dust whilst the dritch-wights and the remnants of the Mad God’s menagerie would finally succumb to the rot that was their due.

Seeker groaned and shifted in his arms so he set her down. As she regained her senses the fear on her face quickly turned to sorrow at the sight of the ruin around them, her head sagging in defeat.

“The demon that resides in the blade I carry,” he told her, “once guided me to a man I had hunted years before and thought long dead. It hears all lies and knows all tongues. We will find your daughter. The most successful slavers take their captives to the port of Salish where the Fourth Sea meets the Fifth. We’ll start there.”

“I’ve been to Salish,” she said. “And found no trace of her.”

“You haven’t been there with me.”

She gave a cautious nod, a new wariness in her gaze as she met his. “Was it true?” she asked. “The things he said you did. The name he called you. Ravager.”

“All true.”

She nodded again and took a breath before getting to her feet. “I think I’ll just keep calling you Pilgrim.”

“And to me you shall remain Seeker.”

He glanced back at the tumbled ruin of the Crescent, feeling a pang of loss at the inscribed skull Book had carried to his death. He had hoped to crush it to powder before this was over.

So, the voice said as they started across the desert of black sand. You intend to remain a persecutor, my liege?