‘Pressures and forces are ever in opposition,’ the Edur was saying as he rotated the spitted hare over the flames. ‘And the striving is ever towards a balance. This is beyond the gods, of course – it is the current of existence – but no, beyond even that, for existence itself is opposed by oblivion. It is a struggle that encompasses all, that defines every island in the Abyss. Or so I now believe. Life is answered by death. Dark by light. Overwhelming success by catastrophic failure. Horrific curse by breathtaking blessing. It seems the inclination of all people to lose sight of that truth, particularly when blinded by triumph upon triumph. See before me, if you will, this small fire. A modest victory ... but if I feed it, my own eager delight is answered, until this entire plain is aflame, then the forest, then the world itself. Thus, an assertion of wisdom here ... in the quenching of these flames once this meat is cooked. After all, igniting this entire world will also kill everything in it, if not in flames then in subsequent starvation. Do you see my point, Monok Ochem?’

‘I do not, Trull Sengar. This prefaces nothing.’

Onrack spoke. ‘You are wrong, Monok Ochem. It prefaces ... everything.’

Trull Sengar glanced over, and answered with a smile.

Of sadness overwhelming. Of utter ... despair.

And the undead warrior was shaken.

A succession of ridges ribboned the landscape, seeming to slowly melt as sand drifted down from the sky.

‘Soon,’ Pearl murmured, ‘those beach ridges will vanish once more beneath dunes.’

Lostara shrugged. ‘We’re wasting time,’ she pronounced, then set off towards the first ridge. The air was thick with settling dust and sand, stinging the eyes and parching the throat. Yet the haze served to draw the horizons closer, to make their discovery increasingly unlikely. The sudden demise of the Whirlwind Wall suggested that the Adjunct and her army had reached Raraku, were even now marching upon the oasis. She suspected that there would be few, if any, scouts patrolling the northeast approaches.

Pearl had announced that it was safe now to travel during the day. The goddess had drawn inward, concentrating her power for, perhaps, one final, explosive release. For the clash with the Adjunct. A singularity of purpose locked in rage, a flaw that could be exploited.

She allowed herself a private smile at that. Flaws. No shortage of those hereabouts, is there? Their moment of wild passion had passed, as far as she was concerned. The loosening of long pent-up energies – now that it was done, they could concentrate on other things. More important things. It seemed, however, that Pearl saw it differently. He’d even tried to take her hand this morning, a gesture that she decisively rebuffed despite its pathos. The deadly assassin was on the verge of transforming into a squirming pup – disgust threatened to overwhelm her, so she shifted her thoughts onto another track.