Fiddler crawled over to a wall and levered himself upright. He tested the leg, winced. ‘I smell Malaz Bay – and feel how damp the air is. This ain’t Tremorlor, lad.’

‘But we might be in any House, in any place beside a bay—’

‘We might,’ the sapper conceded.

‘It’s simply a matter of finding out,’ Apsalar said reasonably. ‘You’ve hurt your ankle again, Fiddler.’

‘Aye. I wish Mappo was here with his elixirs...’

‘Can you walk?’ Crokus asked.

‘Not much choice.’

Apsalar’s father approached the stair, looked down. ‘Someone’s home,’ he said. ‘I see lantern light.’

‘Oh, that’s just wonderful,’ Crokus muttered, unsheathing his knives.

‘Put ‘em away,’ Fiddler said. ‘Either we’re guests or we’re dead. Let’s go introduce ourselves, shall we?’

Descending to the main floor – with Fiddler leaning hard on the Daru – they passed through an open door into the hallway. Lanterns glowed in niches along its length, and the flicker of firelight issued from the open double doors opposite the entranceway.

As at Tremorlor, a massive suit of armour filled an alcove halfway down the hall’s length, and this one had seen serious battle.

The group paused to regard it briefly, in silence, before continuing on to the opened doors.

Apsalar leading, they entered the main chamber. The flames in the stone fireplace seemed to be burning without fuel, and a strange blackness around its edges revealed it as a small portal, opened onto a warren of ceaseless fire.

A figure, its back to them, stood staring into those flames. Dressed in faded ochre robes, the man was solid, broad-shouldered and at least seven feet tall. A long, iron-hued ponytail swept down between his shoulders, bound just above the small of his back with a dull length of chain.

Without turning, the guardian spoke in a low, rumbling voice. ‘Your failure in taking Icarium has been noted.’

Fiddler grunted. ‘In the end, it was not up to us. Mappo—’

‘Oh yes, Mappo,’ the guardian cut in. ‘The Trell. He has walked at Icarium’s side too long, it seems. There are duties that surpass friendship. The Elders scarred him deep when they destroyed an entire settlement and laid the blame at Icarium’s feet. They imagined that would suffice. A Watcher was needed, desperately. The one who had held that responsibility before had taken his own life. For months Icarium walked the land alone, and the threat was too great.’

The words reached into Fiddler, tore at his insides. No, Mappo believes Icarium destroyed his home, murdered his family, everyone he knew. No, how could you have done that?

‘The Azath has worked towards this taking for a long time, mortals.’ The man turned then. Huge tusks framed his thin mouth, jutting from his lower lip. The greenish cast of his weathered skin made him look ghostly, despite the hearth’s warm light. Eyes the colour of dirty ice regarded them.