Five hundred paces out on the pan stood a figure. At its feet lay a humped shape.

‘Heboric,’ Baudin said, squinting. ‘The one standing.’

And the other one? Dead or alive? And who?

They walked side by side towards the ex-priest, who now watched them. His clothing too had burned away to little more than charred rags. Yet his flesh, beneath that skein of tattooing, was unmarred.

As they neared, Heboric gestured towards his own bald pate. ‘Suits you, Baudin,’ he said with a wry grin.

‘What?’ Felisin’s tone was caustic. ‘Are you two a brotherhood now?’

The figure at the old man’s feet was the mage, Kulp. Her gaze fell to him. ‘Dead.’

‘Not quite,’ Heboric said. ‘He’ll live, but he hit something going over the side.’

‘Awaken him, then,’ Felisin said. ‘I don’t plan on waiting in this heat just so he can get some beauty sleep. We’re in a desert again, old man, in case you hadn’t noticed. And desert means thirst, not to mention the fact that we’re without food or anything like supplies. And finally, we’ve no idea where we are—’

‘On the mainland,’ Heboric said. ‘Seven Cities.’

‘How do you know that?’

The ex-priest shrugged. ‘I know.’

Kulp groaned, then sat upright. One hand gingerly probing a lump above his left eye, the mage looked around. His expression soured.

‘The Seventh Army’s camped just over yonder,’ Felisin said.

For a moment he looked credulous, then he gave a weary smile. ‘Funny, lass.’ He climbed to his feet and scanned the horizon on all sides before tilting his head back and sniffing the air. ‘Mainland,’ he pronounced.

‘Why didn’t all that white hair burn off?’ Felisin asked. ‘You’re not even singed.’

‘That dragon’s warren,’ Heboric said, ‘what was it?’

‘Damned if I know,’ Kulp admitted, running a hand through the white shock on his head as if to confirm that it still existed. ‘Chaos, maybe – a storm of it between warrens – I don’t know. Never seen anything like it before, though that don’t mean much – I’m no Ascendant, after all—’

‘I’ll say,’ Felisin muttered.

The mage squinted at her. ‘Those pocks on your face are fading.’

This time it was she who was startled.

Baudin grunted.

She whirled on him. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘I saw that, only it don’t make you any prettier.’

‘Enough of this,’ Heboric said. ‘It’s midday, meaning it’ll get hotter before it gets cooler. We need somewhere to shelter.’

‘Any sign of the marines?’ Kulp asked.

‘They’re dead,’ Felisin said. ‘They went below decks, only the ship was on fire. Dead. Fewer mouths to feed.’

No-one replied to that.

Kulp took the lead, evidently choosing as their destination the far ridge of hills. The others followed without comment.

Twenty minutes later Kulp paused. ‘We’d better pick up our pace. I smell a storm coming.’

Felisin snorted. ‘All I smell is rank sweat – you’re standing too close, Baudin, go away.’