T’riss reined in suddenly, forcing Threadbare to pull hard on the braided reins of her own golem, swinging it round to face the Azathanai in time to see the woman twist in the woven saddle, tilting her face upward…

… as three dragons burst from the heavy cloud cover behind them, low enough for both Threadbare and her companion to feel the roiling wall of air buffet them an instant before the enormous creatures sailed overhead.

Turning, Threadbare’s gaze followed the dragons as they sailed southward into the storm. Her mouth was dry, her chest tight. She shot T’riss a wild, frantic look. ‘What in the Abyss are we riding into?’

‘Do you hear laughing?’ the Azathanai asked, her brows lifting. ‘The dead are laughing even as they weep. Why is that, I wonder?’

‘You wonder? You fucking wonder? What is all this, damn you?’

T’riss shrugged. ‘Oh, Light and Dark never liked each other. Worse than Sky and Earth. But, as must be obvious to anyone who cares to consider such matters, Life and Death rule us all. Unless, of course, Death forgets itself. I fear that has occurred. Death had forgotten itself. The ghosts are here and still here, because they can’t find the gate.’ She shook her head, as if exasperated. ‘What a mess.’

‘What’s happening at the Valley of Tarns?’

‘A battle. A battle is happening. The one everyone expected, but few wanted. Or so they claimed. But the truth is, bloodlust is a plague, and it has found your people. Oh well.’

Swearing, Threadbare yanked her mount around and, eyes narrowing to slits, glared into the sleet and the roiling clouds of the south. Driving her heels into the flanks of the golem snapped twigs and branches, but the creature surged forward, and in moments reached a gallop.

A short time later T’riss caught up with her, and swung a bright face to Threadbare. ‘I had no idea they could go so fast!’ she shouted, and then yelped with laughter.

‘Get away from me, you lying witch!’

Surprise flashed in the Azathanai’s face. ‘I never lied, my dear, I but confused. There is a difference, you know!’

‘Why, damn you?’

‘Well, to keep you alive, I suppose. I like you, Threadbare. I like you a lot.’

Abyss below, she’s fallen for me! Stupid woman!

T’riss angled her horse closer, until almost within reach, and said, ‘But I admit to wondering, with not a little trepidation.’

‘What?’ Threadbare snapped.

‘Those Eleint, of course. Worse than vultures, those things.’

What? ‘They weren’t summoned?’

‘Summoned? Dear me, I certainly hope not!’

‘Then what the fuck do they want? A field of corpses to feed on?’

‘Not corpses, Threadbare. Magic. They feed on magic. Alas, there’s far too much of it about, these days.’

‘And whose fault is that?’

T’riss blinked. ‘Why, mine, I suppose.’

‘I should kill you!’

‘Oh, don’t think that – you break my heart! Besides, if it all gets out of control, you’ll want me there.’