‘One of their breeds, yes. I played the assassin,’ Skillen replied. ‘Subtlety is lost on them. They raise a civilization of function, mechanical purpose. They are driven to explain all, and so understand nothing. They refuse artistry. But artistry hides in the many shades of one colour. They have rejected the value of the common spirit in all things. They cleave to one colour, and heed but one shade. The rational mind can play only rational games: this is the trap. But I did take note, K’rul, of the arrogance and irony implicit in their worship of demonstrable truths.’ He paused, and then added, ‘They are coming.’

K’rul barked a laugh, harsh enough to cut the air. ‘Do you recall, I once spoke of possibilities? Well, I have made a gift of them. Or, rather, gifts. Magic, requiring no bargaining with the likes of you or me. And already, those gifts are being abused.’

Skillen waited, withholding every scent, every flavour. There was sorcery in the spilled blood of Azathanai. K’rul had very nearly bled himself dry. The gesture was that of an unbalanced mind.

The man before him made an ambiguous wave of one hand, and said, ‘Errastas seeks to usurp command of these gifts.’ He cocked his head and studied Skillen, and then added, ‘No. Command is not, I now think, the right word. Allow me to offer you one that you, in your present state, might better comprehend. He seeks to impose his flavour upon my gifts, and from that, a sort of influence. Skillen, I do not think I can stop him.’

‘What else?’

‘Starvald Demelain,’ K’rul said. ‘The dragons are returning.’

Skillen Droe continued to stare at K’rul, until the man looked away. The loss of blood, so vast, so profound, had broken something inside this man. The notion made Skillen Droe curious, in a morbid way. ‘I heard your call, K’rul, and so here I am. I preferred you as a woman.’

‘My days of birthing are done, for a time.’

‘But not, it seems, your bleeding.’

K’rul nodded. ‘The question is: who will find me first? Errastas, or – should she emerge from Starvald Demelain – Tiam? Skillen Droe, I need a guardian. You see me at my most vulnerable. I could think of none other than you – none other so determined to remain apart from our worldly concerns. And yet, what do you offer me? Only a confession. Where have you been? Elsewhere. What have you been doing? Setting traps. Still… I do ask, Skillen.’

‘I am to blame for the dragons—’

‘Hardly!’

‘—and I do not fear Errastas, or any other Azathanai.’

K’rul answered that mockingly. ‘Of course you don’t.’

Skillen Droe made no reply.

K’rul shook his head. ‘Please excuse that, Skillen. At the very least, I must tell you what he has done.’

Skillen Droe released a sigh heavy with indifference. ‘As you will.’

‘Will you protect me?’