'Here Scarpius gave his exhortation on the dangers of decadence, on the true meaning of citizenship. The senate sat, entranced. His voice rang out like… like…' Bayaz plucked at the air with his hand, as though hoping to find the right word there. 'Bah. What does it matter now? There are no certainties left in the world. That was the age of great men, doing what was right.' He frowned down at the broken rubble choking the floor of the colossal room. 'This is the age of little men, doing what they must. Little men, with little dreams, walking in giant footsteps. Still, you can see it was a grand building once!'

'Er, yes…' ventured Jezal, limping away from the others to peer at some friezes carved into the wall at the very back of the seating. Half-naked warriors, awkwardly posed, pushing at each other with spears. All grand, no doubt, but there was an unpleasant smell to the place. Like rot, like damp, like sweating animals. The odour of a badly cleaned stables. He peered into the shadows, wrinkling his nose. 'What is that smell?'

Ninefingers sniffed the air, and his face fell in an instant. A picture of wide-eyed horror. 'By the…' He ripped his sword out, taking a step forward. Jezal turned, fumbling for the grips of his steels, a sudden fear pressing on his chest…

He took it at first for some manner of beggar: a dark shape, swathed in rags, squatting on all fours in the darkness only a few paces away. Then he saw the hands; twisted and claw-like on the pitted stone. Then he saw the grey face, if you could call it a face; a chunk of hairless brow, a lumpen jaw bursting with outsize teeth, a flat snout like a pig's, tiny black eyes glinting with fury as it glared back at him. Something between a man and an animal, and more hideous by far than either. Jezal's jaw dropped open, and he stood gawping. It scarcely seemed worth telling Ninefingers that he now believed him.

It was clear there were such things as Shanka in the world.

'Get it!' roared the Northman, scrambling up the steps of the great chamber, drawn sword in hand. 'Kill it!'

Jezal shambled uncertainly towards the thing, but his leg was still halfway to useless and the creature was quick as a fox, turning and skittering across the cold stone towards a crack in the curving wall and wriggling through like a cat through a fence before he had got more than a few lurching steps.

'It's gone!'

Bayaz was already shuffling towards the entrance, the tapping of his staff on the marble echoing above them. 'We see that, Master Luthar. We all very clearly see that!'

'There'll be more,' hissed Logen, 'there're always more! We have to go!'