'Eleven wards, and eleven wards reversed,' said Bayaz. 'Iron. Quenched in salt water. An improvement suggested by Kanedias' researches. Glustrod used raw salt. That was his mistake.'

Mamun looked up, the icy calmness vanished from his face. 'You cannot mean…' His black eyes flickered to Ferro, then down to her hand, clenched tight around the Seed. 'No! The First Law—'

'The First Law?' The Magus showed his teeth. 'Rules are for children. This is war, and in war the only crime is to lose. The word of Euz?' Bayaz' lip curled. 'Hah! Let him come forth and stop me!'

'Enough!' One of the Eaters leaped forward, flashing across the metal circles towards their centre. Ferro gasped as the stone in her hand turned suddenly, terribly cold. The air about Bayaz twisted, danced, as though he was reflected in a rippling pool.

The Eater sprang up, mouth open, the bright blade of his sword shining. Then he was gone. So were two others behind him. A long spray of blood was smeared across the ground where one of them had been standing. Ferro's eyes followed it, growing wider and wider. Her mouth fell open.

The building that had stood behind them had a giant, gaping hole torn out of it from ground to dizzy roof. A great canyon lined with broken stone and hanging plaster, with splintered spars and dangling glass. Dust showered from the shattered edges and into the yawning hole below. A flock of torn papers fluttered down through the empty air. From out of the carnage a thin and agonised screaming came. A sobbing. A screech of pain. Many voices. The voices of those who had been using that building as a refuge.

Poor luck for them.

Bayaz' mouth slowly curled up into a smile. 'It works,' he breathed.

Dark Paths

« ^ »

Jezal hurried through the tall archway and into the gardens of the palace, his Knights around him. It was remarkable that High Justice Marovia had been able to keep pace with them on their dash through the Agriont, but the old man scarcely seemed out of breath. 'Seal the gates!' he bellowed. 'The gates!'

The huge doors were heaved shut, two beams the thickness of ships' masts swung into position behind them. Jezal allowed himself to breathe a little easier. There was a reassuring feeling to the weight of those gates, to the height and thickness of the walls of the palace compound, to the sizeable host of well trained and armoured men defending it.

Marovia laid his hand gently on Jezal's shoulder, began to steer him down the cobbled path towards the nearest door into the palace. 'We should find the safest place possible, your Majesty—'

Jezal shook him off. 'Would you lock me in my bedroom? Or should I hide in the cellar? I will remain here, and co-ordinate the defence of—'