The troop reined in on the strand, forming a row. Their horses trembled under them, and glancing to his right and left Spinnock was struck by the audacity of this conceit: that he and his fellow Wardens – that the Tiste of Kurald Galain and even Mother Dark – could somehow stand firm against such forces of nature.

A sudden conviction took hold in him: this sea would never be defeated. It would continue to grow, devouring land as it did behemoths, poisoning the air, stealing the life from all that it touched. Sorcery would fail against it, and will alone proved frail defiance.

‘There are shapes within it!’ one of the Wardens cried.

Spinnock looked back up at the blazing conjuration.

The air cracked anew, with a force that staggered the horses and flung men and women from their saddles. Spinnock managed to remain mounted, fighting to keep his balance. A rush of sweet wind rushed out, lashing across the surface of the Vitr, revealing at last something of the distance out from the shoreline of this raging sun. The power of that gale, as it poured out from the emanation, lifted waves upon the sea.

It seemed that Spinnock was the first to comprehend the portent of that. ‘We must flee!’ he shouted. ‘Commander! We must retreat!’

He saw Calat Hustain, who had also managed to remain on his horse, swing round to stare at him, and then the commander began shouting. ‘Withdraw! Hurry!’

The horses that had unseated their riders had already fled the onslaught. Those Wardens now on foot were quickly gathered up by their comrades. The beasts were shrilling in terror, and the surface of the strand itself was shivering.

A third eruption sounded.

Spinnock glanced back.

Abyss take me. Abyss take us all!

Dragons emerged from the emanation, wings outstretched, their tails scything the air in their wake. One after another, Eleint were rushing out to lift on the air, like birds freed from a cage. Faintly, through the howling wind, came their piercing cries.

Upon the sea, a succession of monumental waves advanced towards the shore.

There was no need for further exhortations from Calat Hustain. The troop rode up from the strand in frantic retreat. Even the boulders did not seem proof to what was coming.

Plunging into the rotted tumble of crags and rock, Spinnock left his mount to find its own way. A massive shadow swept over him and he looked up to see the belly and translucent wings of a dragon sailing above them. The Eleint’s long neck curled and the head came into view, almost upside down as the creature flew on, and Spinnock saw how its eyes seemed to blaze as they looked down on him. Then that wedge-shaped head tilted, as the beast scanned the other riders who were just breaking clear of the boulders and beginning to cross the dead ground, towards the black grasses of Glimmer Fate.

The dragon’s talons spread wide, and then closed again.