‘Will we see the Royal Palace?’

Zara hesitated. ‘No, sire. I am afraid it is much further out to sea. Our magic will not reveal it. But you may see the Lighthouse from here.’

Palemon closed his eyes and drew in another deep lungful of air before opening them again. He clutched the arms of the chair, his knuckles white. Finally he nodded at Zara. ‘Begin.’

Zara walked to the front of the row of six magi facing Widow’s Peak. She entered the sea, the breeze blowing her hair around her face as she stood with her ankles in the water and raised her staff high.

Everyone on the shore fell silent. Even the dragons cleared the skies, retreating from the open sea and the region of the Lost Souls.

Zara’s staff began to glow.

For a moment nothing happened, but then, looking overhead, Palemon saw the clouds all moving, as if tugged in strange directions. They weren’t following the same path: some scattered up the coast, some inland, others out to sea. But they were all moving away from the sorceress’s staff.

A strong wind began to blow.

The six magi then lifted their staffs. Silver fire lit up every conical swirl at the tip of every pole. Palemon felt the hair rise on the back of his neck as the gusts of wind gathered pace.

Zara stepped forward until the water was at the depth of her calves. She lifted her staff still higher and cried out. The magi behind her then entered the shallows and began an eerie humming chant.

The sky was now entirely devoid of clouds. From slave to soldier to sorcerer, wind was blowing hair wildly and whipping clothing against bodies. Gripping the throne’s arms so tightly that the wood creaked, Palemon leaned forward. He glanced down at the king of Xanthos and saw that he’d been looking up at Palemon, rather than at the sea.

‘Watch,’ Palemon said, his voice only just audible above the wind.

Zara now tilted her staff, lowering the tip inch by inch until it was horizontal, and then she was bringing the glowing silver cone down to the water. Palemon watched as a wave formed in front of her. It grew from nothing to become a towering crest as big as those he’d seen on the open ocean while sailing from Necropolis. The wave sucked up the water around it, becoming taller and fuller, drawing away from the sea bed underneath. It was growing by the instant, swelling into a towering wall, suddenly fifty feet high.

One moment Zara was calf deep in the water, the next she was standing on open ground.

Three of the sorcerers behind Zara peeled to the left, the other three to the right. Those on the left lowered their staffs and pushed the water to the left, while those on the right did the same in the other direction.