The air smelled of something bitter.

A faint shriek sounded, but it seemed far away, so he decided to ignore it. He crossed the room until he stood before the tools. He selected one of the small knives. The blade was surprisingly sharp, and Wreneck wondered what this room was for, with the strange table and its buckets.

A proper door opened out on to a corridor. It told him little – he was not even sure what floor he was on. Choosing a direction at random, he set off, the dying gods gibbering in his head.

* * *

They were gathered in the barracks. The alarms had roused the Houseblades and Ivis was pleased to find them mostly dressed and properly kitted when he led his group into the main dining hall, and now the hearth blazed with fresh wood and the bitter cold was being driven back.

Lord Anomander remained near the door, as if still of a mind to set out into the fangs of the storm, seeking his audience with the impaled goddess. Sandalath, accompanied by Yalad and Surgeon Prok, had taken a chair closer to the hearth. Ivis eyed the trio as he was joined by his lieutenant.

‘Orders, sir?’

‘What? No. Yes. Have your soldiers preparing kits – enough to support us should we need to evacuate the grounds.’

‘Sir? Are we under attack?’

‘Unknown,’ Ivis replied. ‘Possibly. I know, it’s a beastly storm out there, but we can find shelter in the wood if need be. Go on, Marak. Food, water, winter clothes, blankets, tents and cookware.’ Without awaiting a reply, he walked over to the hearth.

‘Milady, Caladan Brood will find Wreneck. You can be sure of that.’

‘What makes you so certain?’ Sandalath asked. ‘He forced us out into the cold, Ivis. He warned us against destruction – my child is in there! I do not trust these Azathanai. Their hearts are cold, their eyes like stone. Oh, where is Lord Draconus? This is all his fault!’

Yalad stood. ‘Master Ivis, I would like to volunteer to return to the main house. It may be that the High Mason has his hands full with those two witches. Wreneck could well find himself trapped between warring magicks – who will consider the worth of such a small life?’

Ivis twisted round, saw that Anomander was now watching them.

After a moment, the lord strode over. ‘Sand,’ he said, moving to crouch opposite and taking one of her hands in both of his. ‘There is indeed something cruel in this new age of sorcery. But I have travelled with Brood for some time now. When we first found Wreneck, the lad was near death. It was Caladan who prepared a reviving broth for the child. Not the act of a heartless man.’

Sandalath leaned forward. ‘Milord, you know my trust in you is absolute. If you assure me, then I must be satisfied.’

Yalad said, ‘Master Ivis—’

‘Attend to Lady Sandalath, gate sergeant.’