Sunlight shone down on the Southshires. The free Southshires. Victory had been a long time coming, its cost measured in widows and orphans. But this one glorious moment – the hour of the Council’s long awaited surrender . . . ? Josiri was determined to enjoy it. It was a new dawn.

“Are you coming, brother?” Calenne stood at the balcony doorway, her gloved hand extended. “It’s time.”

He nodded. “Past time and true.”

“Mother would be proud. I am proud.”

“We both are.” Anastacia’s impish smile belied her statement. “Enough stalling. Your people are waiting.”

Josiri frowned. A crowd gathered below. Men, women and children, waiting for his word. Problem was, he was certain they hadn’t been there before.

“I don’t understand . . .”

Calenne led him to the balcony’s edge. Her sapphire eyes turned dark. Jagged black lines crept across her cheeks. “Say a few words, that’s all. After all, you led us here.”

Josiri stared out across the terrace. Lifeless eyes shifted in sockets of withered flesh and rose to meet his. A field of corpses in ragged clothes. Behind them, Eskavord burned against a darkening sky. The first wisps of green-white mist curled across withered grass.

He gagged. The world spun beneath his feet. Gloved hands caught his, holding him upright.

“You cannot leave, brother.” Beneath Calenne’s funeral veil, maggots burrowed free of scorched and blistered flesh. “You belong with us. We will all be one in the Dark.”

He screamed and pulled away. Brittle fingers snapped and fell into the dust.

“Josiri?” Anastacia’s voice came everywhere at once, and yet nowhere. “Josiri?”

“Go away!” he bellowed. “Leave me alone!”

He spun about, lost his balance and fell into the mists.

Josiri opened his eyes into morning sunlight. The cold stone was rough under his left temple. Sourness crowded the back of his mouth. The pounding in his head matched the sullen thump of his heart.

[[This is not the reunion I envisaged.]]

“Anastacia?”

He rolled over. Anastacia stood at the balcony’s edge, her back to him and hands crossed lightly at her waist. The hooded shawl and black velvet dress seemed too humble for her tastes. Beyond, the roofs and spires of Eskavord revelled in Lumestra’s light.

“Where have you been?” he croaked. He unsteadily hoisted himself to a sitting position. “I was worried.”

[[Were you?]] Her voice wasn’t right, though he couldn’t say why. [[I’ve been beyond the wall.]]

“What? How?”

[[Akadra made it possible.]]

“That’s not an answer.”

So it had been Akadra’s doing. Just another means of tormenting him. Of isolating him. But it had failed. Or had it? Anastacia didn’t sound herself, and it was more than the catch in her voice.

“But you’re back?” He hated how pathetic the question sounded.

[[I don’t know. It’s not wholly my choice.]]