She sensed the sickness coming, sinking claws into her. Sensed . . . and chose to sleep. Less than two thousand years ago, she chose to sleep. She sought to escape the prison of her own flesh, in order to do battle with the one who was killing that flesh. She – oh gods above and below! She made of herself a weapon! Her entire spirit, all its power, into a single forging ... a hammer, a hammer capable of breaking . . . breaking anything. And Burn then found a man to wield it...

Caladan Brood.

But breaking the chains meant freeing the Crippled God. And an unchained Crippled God meant an unleashing of vengeance – enough to sweep all life from the surface of this world. And yet Burn, the Sleeping Goddess, was indifferent to that. She would simply begin again.

Now he saw it, saw the truth – he refuses! The bastard refuses! To defy the Crippled God’s unleashing of a deadly will, that would see us all destroyed, Caladan Brood refuses her!

Gasping, Paran pulled himself away, pushed himself upright, staggering back – and was at Raest’s side once again.

The Jaghut’s tusks glimmered. ‘Have you found knowledge a gift, or a curse?’

Too prescient a question ... ‘Both, Raest.’

‘And which do you choose to embrace?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘You are weeping, mortal. In joy or sorrow?’

Paran grimaced, wiped at his face. ‘I want to leave, Raest,’ he said gruffly. ‘I want to return—’

His eyes blinked open, and he found himself on his knees, facing, with an interval of but a half-dozen paces, a bemused Son of Darkness. Paran sensed that but moments had passed since his sudden arrival, yet something of the tension he had first picked up had eased in the interval.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up to find Silverfox standing beside him, the Mhybe hovering uncertainly a step behind. The Daru, Kruppe, stood nearby, carefully adjusting his silk clothing and humming softly, while Quick Ben took a step closer to the captain – though the wizard’s eyes held on the Knight of Darkness.

The captain closed his eyes. His mind was spinning. He felt uprooted by all that he had discovered – starting with myself. Master of the Deck. Latest recruit to a war I know nothing about. And now ... this. ‘What,’ Paran growled, ‘in Hood’s name is going on here?’

‘I drew on power,’ Silverfox replied, her eyes slightly wild.

Paran drew a deep breath. Power, oh yes, I am coming to know that feeling. Jen’isand Rul. We each have begun our own journey, yet you and I, Silverfox, are destined to arrive at the same place. The Second Gathering. Who, I wonder, will ascend to those two ancient, long-forgotten thrones? Where, dear child, will you lead the T’lan Imass?

Anomander Rake spoke. ‘I had not anticipated such a ... taut reunion, Caladan—’