‘Just so. As for Haut, Arathan, bear in mind that young Korya Delath, who must now return to Kurald Galain, will be without a protector.’

‘So find someone else,’ Arathan snapped. ‘Why not Gethol here? It’s not as though he has anything to do.’

‘Curiously,’ mused Gethol, ‘I am of a mind to do just that. Accompany you and Korya, that is.’

‘Then she has an escort and you two don’t need me tagging along! Besides, Father sent me here to be beyond the reach of his rivals in the court of the Citadel.’

Gothos cleared his throat. ‘Yes, about that.’

‘You have heard something?’ Arathan sat forward. ‘How? You’ve never left this damned chamber!’

‘Perturbations in the ether,’ Gothos said, frowning.

‘Perturbations in the what?’

The frown deepened at Arathan’s incredulity.

Gethol snorted.

Sighing, Gothos said, ‘A Forulkan traveller arrived in Hood’s camp yesterday. A delightfully dour female named Doubt. She spoke of events to the east.’

‘What kind of events?’

‘Oh, let me not imply that they have already occurred. Rather, a path has been set upon that has but one destination.’ He blew out his breath. ‘In keeping with my unassailable observations on the inherent self-destructiveness of civilization—’

‘Not again,’ Gethol groaned as he climbed to his feet. ‘Now at last we come to the reason why I dived beneath that tree in the house’s yard – the only escape left to me. I believe I will pay one last visit to Hood, if only to partake in the joy of stinging awake his shame.’ He eyed Arathan. ‘You may join me there, assuming you survive the imminent monologue.’ He strode from the chamber.

‘Milord,’ said Arathan to Gothos, ‘spare me the lecture, if you please. I would know the details of what has happened, or is about to happen.’

‘Well, that is just it, young Arathan. By the time you and Korya return to Kurald Galain, the smoke will have cleared as it were. The dust settled, the mass burial trenches filled in, and so on and so forth. From this it is probably safe to assume the ousting of your father. Indeed, I would be surprised to find him anywhere in that realm.’

‘Then, what will I be returning to?’

‘Ashes and ruin,’ Gothos replied, with a satisfied smile.

* * *

‘I advise against this,’ Korya said, studying the Azath House with its freshly mangled, sapling-crowded yard. ‘The guardian is a ghost, and a miserable one at that. Truly, Ifayle, nothing of wisdom will come from that thing.’

‘And yet,’ said the Dog-Runner, ‘he was once of my kind.’

She sighed. ‘Yes, as I told you.’

‘Then I would speak with him.’

‘The house may not let us in. It’s stronger now… more potent. Can you not feel it?’