The implications of that slowly edged into place in the wizard’s mind. ‘Does Humbrall Taur know?’

‘He does not. I was driven away by his shouldermen. The most ancient of spirits are not welcome. Only the young ones are allowed to be present, for they have little power. Their gift is comfort, and comfort has come to mean a great deal among the Barghast. It was not always so. You see before you a pantheon divided, and the vast schism between us is time – and the loss of memory. We are as strangers to our children; they will not listen to our wisdom and they fear our potential power.’

‘Was it Humbrall Taur’s hope that his child would find these Founding Spirits?’

‘He embraces a grave risk, yet he knows the White Face clans are vulnerable. The young spirits are too weak to resist the Pannion Domin. They will be enslaved or destroyed. When comfort is torn away, all that will be revealed is a weakness of faith, an absence of strength. The clans will be crushed by the Domin’s armies. Humbrall Taur reaches for power, yet he gropes blindly.’

‘And when I tell him that the ancient spirits have been found ... will he believe me?’

‘You are our only hope. You must convince him.’

‘I freed you from the wards,’ Quick Ben said.

‘What do you ask in return?’

Trotts needs to survive his wounds. He must be recognized as champion, so that he can legitimately take his place among the council of chiefs. We need a position of strength, Talamandas.’

‘I cannot return to the tribes, Wizard. I will only be driven away once again.’

‘Can you channel your power through a mortal?’

The sticksnare slowly cocked his head.

‘We’ve a Denul healer, but like me, he’s having trouble making use of his warren – the Pannion’s poison—’

‘To be gifted with our power,’ Talamandas said, ‘he must be led to this warren, to this place.’

‘Well,’ Quick Ben said, ‘why don’t we figure out a way to achieve that?’

Talamandas slowly turned to survey his spirit kin. After a moment he faced the wizard once again. ‘Agreed.’

A rogue javelin arced up towards Twist as the Black Moranth and his passenger began their descent. The quorl darted to one side, then quickly dropped towards the Circle. Laughter and cursing voices rose from the gathered warriors, but no further gestures were made.

Paran cast one last scan over the squad standing guard around Trotts and Mulch, then jogged to where Twist and a blistered Mallet were dismounting amidst challenges and threatening weapons.

‘Clear them a path, damn you!’ the captain bellowed, thrusting a Senan tribesman aside as he pushed closer. The man righted himself with a growl, then showed his filed teeth in a challenge. Paran ignored it. Five jostling strides later, he reached Twist and Mallet.

The healer’s eyes were wide with alarm. ‘Captain—’