His moccasins slipped wildly as he tried to scrabble his way to one side. Then he saw long, unhuman hands close on the lip of the stone ledge. The sagging ceased.

H-how in Hood’s name—

The assassin resumed climbing. Moments later he reached the balcony and pulled himself over the edge.

The azalan was fully stretched over it. Two hands gripped the ledge. Three others held shadows on the cliffside above the small doorway. Shadows were unravelling from the demon like layers of skin, vaguely human shapes stretching out to hold the balcony to the wall – and being torn apart by the immense strain. As Kalam scrambled onto its surface, a grinding, crunching sound came from where the balcony joined the wall, and it dropped a hand’s width along the seam.

The assassin launched himself towards the recessed doorway, where he saw a face in the gloom, twisted with terror – the squad mage.

‘Back off!’ Kalam hissed. ‘It’s a friend!’

The mage reached out and clasped Kalam’s forearm.

The balcony dropped away beneath the assassin even as he was dragged into the corridor.

Both men tumbled back, over Irriz’s prone body.

Everything shook as a tremendous thump sounded from below. The echoes were slow to fade.

The azalan swung in from under the lintel stone. Grinning.

A short distance down the corridor crouched a squad of soldiers. Sinn had an arm wrapped round one of them – her half-brother, Kalam assumed as he slowly regained his feet.

One of the soldiers the assassin had met earlier moved forward, edging past the assassin and – with more difficulty – the azalan, back out to the edge. After a moment he called back. ‘All quiet down there, Sergeant. The camp’s a mess, though. Can’t see anyone about...’

The other soldier from before frowned. ‘No-one, Bell?’

‘No. Like they all ran away.’

Kalam offered nothing, though he had his suspicions. There was something about all those shadows in the demon’s possession.. .

The squad mage had disentangled himself from Irriz and now said to the assassin, ‘That’s a damned frightening friend you have there. And it ain’t imperial. Shadow Realm?’

‘A temporary ally,’ Kalam replied with a shrug.

‘How temporary?’

The assassin faced the sergeant. ‘Irriz has been delivered – what do you plan on doing with him?’

‘Haven’t decided yet. The lass here says you’re named Ulfas. Would that be right? A Genabackan Barghast name? Wasn’t there a war chief by that name? Killed at Blackdog.’

‘I wasn’t about to tell Irriz my real name, Sergeant. I’m a Bridgeburner. Kalam Mekhar, rank of corporal.’

There was silence.

Then the mage sighed. ‘Wasn’t you outlawed?’

‘A feint, one of the Empress’s schemes. Dujek needed a free hand for a time.’