A part of Atran, lodged cowering in one corner of her mind, watched and knew that she had snapped inside. Madness had spilled out to fill the room and still it boiled. Those wide eyes staring out from that dark corner looked on in horror and disbelief, even as she stalked over to collect a cloak, pulling it over lacerated shoulders.

The girls wouldn’t stay put for long. Whatever sorcery filled them was too powerful, too eager for freedom. She needed to save as many people as possible. Get them out of the house – and then burn the house down to the ground.

Her strides jerky, wobbly, she made for the doorway.

Malice stepped into it, holding above her head a block of masonry. She threw it as if it were a brick. The massive stone slammed into Atran’s chest, shattering ribs. She fell, hit the floor on her back as if thrown down, her head snapping and crunching hard. Light blinded her. She could not breathe and she felt heat filling her lungs and she knew that she was already dead, her lungs drowning in blood. The light faded suddenly and she looked up to see Malice, her throat swollen black and blue and green, dried blood at the corners of her mouth. She had collected the huge stone and was lifting it again.

The eyes that met Atran’s in the moment before the stone descended on her face were empty of life – a look the surgeon had seen a thousand times before. Impossib—

* * *

Atran’s skull squashed flat, with gore spurting out to the sides. Malice stared down at what she had done. On the cutting table, her sisters were thrashing, trying to pull their hands from the knives pinning them to the surface.

Malice turned to them. ‘I’m mad at you,’ she said. ‘You took the lantern with you. You took away the light and left me all alone!’

‘Never again,’ hissed Envy. ‘We promise, never again!’

‘Now be a good girl and help us!’ Spite begged.

* * *

Venth stumped into the dining room. Only Setyl had arrived before him and the armourer sat glumly at the table, which had not yet been set. The master of horses frowned. ‘The bell’s sounded, by the Abyss. I do not even smell cooking – where are the staff? Where is everyone?’

Setyl blinked up at him, and then shrugged.

‘Did you not think to look?’ Without waiting for a reply – which wouldn’t ever come in Setyl’s case, anyway – Venth made his way to the service door that led to the kitchen. Something wasn’t right. He’d been looking forward to this meal, once he’d learned that Ivis would not be attending. He was furious with the captain. The horses were being pushed too hard – the wretched animals weren’t smart enough to resist a tyrant, and Ivis was surely that.

You’d think a damned war was coming—