The tunnel narrowed, the howling wind making it difficult to resist being pushed forward headlong, and they were forced to duck into a shambling crouch near the exit point.

Heboric held back just before the threshold to let Kulp pass, then Felisin. The mage was the first to step outside; Felisin followed.

They stood on a ledge, the mouth of a cave high on a cliff face. The wind tore at them as if seeking to cast them out, flinging them into the air – and a fatal drop to jagged rocks two hundred or more arm-spans below. Felisin moved to grip one crumbling edge of the cave mouth. The vista had taken her breath away, weakened her knees.

The Whirlwind raged, not before them but beneath them, filling the vast basin that was the Holy Desert. A fine haze of suspended dust drifted above a floor of seething yellow and orange clouds. The sun was an edgeless ball of red fire to the west, deepening its hue as they watched.

After a long moment Felisin barked a laugh. ‘All we need now is wings.’

‘I become useful once again,’ Heboric said, grinning as he stepped out to stand beside her.

Kulp’s head whipped around. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Tie yourselves to my back – both of you. This man’s got a pair of hands and he can use them, and for once my blindness will prove a salvation.’

Kulp peered down the cliff face. ‘Climb down this? It’s rotten rock, old man—’

‘Not the handholds I’ll find, Mage. Besides, what choice do you have?’

‘Oh, I simply can’t wait,’ Felisin said.

‘All right, but I’ll have my warren open,’ Kulp said. ‘We’ll fall just as far, but the landing will be softer – not that it’ll make much difference, I suppose, but at least it gives us a chance.’

‘You have no faith!’ Heboric shouted, his face twisting as he fought back peals of laughter.

‘Thanks for that,’ Felisin said. How far do we have to be pushed? We’re not slipping into madness, we’re being nudged, tugged and pulled into it.

A hot, solid pressure closed on her shoulder. She turned. Heboric had laid an invisible hand on her – she could see nothing, yet the thin weave of her shirt’s fabric was compressed, slowly darkening with sweat. She could feel its weight. He leaned close. ‘Raraku reshapes all who come to it. This is one truth you can cling to. What you were falls away, what you become is something different.’ His smile broadened at her snort of disdain. ‘Raraku’s gifts are harsh, it’s true,’ he said in a tone of sympathy.

Kulp was readying harnesses. ‘These straps are rotting,’ he said.

Heboric swung to him. ‘Then you must hold tight.’

‘This is madness.’

Those were my words.

‘Would you rather await the D’ivers and Soletaken?’

The mage scowled.