Finally, she fell asleep, huddled in the corner of her cell. She didn’t know how long she slept, only that it was for a long time. Her lips were dry and her throat parched; she had yet to be given any food or water.

Sudden remembrance struck like a dagger in the heart. She saw the stake driven up through Tomarys’s insides, emerging from his throat. She heard his terrible gurgling moan.

Chloe sobbed, but stifled it before it took hold of her. She had to be strong. She forced herself to look up and examine her surroundings.

It was dark, near pitch black; the only light came from the end of the corridor she’d entered through. The air was dry and cool. Standing and walking to the thick door, she peered through the window and counted six cells; she was in the cell closest to the door.

She heard movement – a soft tread of footsteps – and frowned, trying to locate the source of the sound. She then realized that her initial assessment was wrong: she wasn’t alone after all. A shadowy face appeared, staring at her through the bars of the most-distant cell.

‘You are upset, I take it?’ a wry voice said. ‘It has been a long time since I have had a companion here. I must say, I wasn’t expecting someone like you. How old are you, human?’

The figure brought his face forward so that the barest amount of light touched his features. Chloe saw high cheekbones and sharp features. He was the last person in the world she expected to see.

‘Zachary?’ She clutched hold of the bars but then faltered. An eldran was looking at her, but he wasn’t Zachary. ‘Who are you?’

He was tall, even for an eldran, and despite his sharp chin his face was broad and strong. When he shifted his head Chloe saw that he was completely bald and that his left eye was missing, displaying an empty, wrinkled socket. She had never seen an eldran so visually striking.

‘My name is Triton,’ he said. ‘You have heard of me? No?’ He sounded surprised. ‘I am the king of the eldren.’

‘King?’ Chloe was so surprised that she momentarily forgot about her own predicament. ‘I didn’t know the eldren had a king.’

He lifted his chin and spoke proudly. ‘The blood of Marrix runs in my veins.’

With his movement Chloe now saw that he had a thin golden collar around his neck. She wondered at its purpose. Eldren weren’t fond of metal, and could never willingly touch it.

‘Who is Marrix?’ The name was familiar, but Chloe couldn’t place it.

‘The last king to command all of the eldren. He died long ago, but his struggle is not forgotten. He led us, before most of my people turned wild and were lost to us. I have long ruled the eldren who live in the place you call the Waste.’