Chloe’s eyes narrowed as she thought about the smear of Isobel’s blood on the ground. She walked forward, still holding the staff pointed at the soldier, with the constant surge of silver flame cascading through her mind, scattering her thoughts but leaving her anger intact. She summoned more of the white fire, her staff glowing fiercely as she moved it from low to high, sending the man sliding up the tower wall until he was high above the ground. His eyes were wild as he shook his head from side to side.

Only then did she break contact with her power. The soldier plummeted to the earth, striking hard enough to kill him.

She hurried to the open entrance of the tower. Reaching the dead guard, she crouched and drew his dagger from the scabbard at his belt.

Finn was looking at Chloe with wide eyes.

‘Take this.’ She handed him the dagger. ‘Come on.’

With Chloe in the lead, they plunged inside and followed a broad corridor. Passing a second, inner archway, Chloe glanced at the tower’s interior shaft, devoid of people, but with dried blood smeared on the paving stones. Exchanging glances with Finn, she kept moving. The floor began to slope downward, and it was some time before they came to an immense door that perfectly filled the stone tunnel, made of what appeared to be gold.

Chloe noticed the symbols around the golden door. Similar symbols decorated the device at the top of her staff.

The golden door was open, and now Finn’s heavy breathing betrayed his fear. Dagger held out in front of him, he followed just behind her as they entered another corridor, taking them deep beneath the tower.

Entering a cavernous chamber, first Chloe, and then Finn, came to a halt.

Flickering torches lit up walls of stone and a row of iron cages. Chloe smelled the sickening stench of caged animals. Written on one wall was jagged lettering in a language she couldn’t understand.

A dark figure lunged out of the shadows.

A soldier ran at them, swinging his sword. Remembering the teachings of her bodyguard, Tomarys, Chloe weaved to the side and thrust out her staff at ankle height. The guard tripped and lost his footing, falling face forward on the stone. Finn crouched and grunted as he made a swift movement with the dagger. The guard went still.

For a time there was silence as they both scanned the area for more enemies. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Chloe lifted her staff when she saw a figure in the corner, but then lowered it. The wretch was an elderly slave, huddled with his hands above his face. He was cowering near a long water trough and a series of buckets.

‘Keep an eye on him,’ she said to Finn.

She moved to the row of cages, taking her first good look at their occupants. She drew in a sharp breath.