As the woman stepped into the room, Bucklund shouted and scrabbled back from the doorway.

Picker looked up. A massive wolf stood in the hallway beyond, eyes gleaming through the dust-shrouded gloom.

The woman glanced back. ‘Oh, not to worry. That is Baaljagg. Garath has wandered off, I believe. Busy killing Pannions, I expect. He seems to have acquired a taste for Seerdomin... now, this poor woman – well, we’ll have you right in no time, dear...’

‘What in Hood’s name is happening over there?’

On the other side of the low wall, a flight of stairs gave access to the parapet overlooking the harbour and the bay beyond – or, rather, so Paran concluded, since nothing else made sense. In any case, some kind of approach was being contested, and from the screams, whatever was on its way to the flat rooftop was wreaking havoc on the defenders.

Beside Paran, Quick Ben raised his head a fraction. ‘I don’t know and I’m not popping up for a look, either,’ he said in answer to the captain’s question, ‘but let’s hope it proves a worthwhile diversion. I can’t keep us here much longer, without those condors finding us.’

‘Something’s keeping them busy,’ Spindle asserted, ‘and you know it, Quick. If one of them took the time to look hard – we’d be feeding the chicks in its nest by now.’

‘You’re right.’

‘Then what in Hood’s name are we still doing here?’

Good question. Paran twisted round, looked back along the roof to the north. There was a trapdoor there.

‘We’re still here,’ Quick Ben grated, ‘because this is where we need to be—’

‘Hold it,’ Paran growled, reaching up to wipe what he thought was sweat from his eyes, though the smear on his hand was red – the stitches on his temple had pulled loose. ‘Not quite true, Quick. It’s where you and I need to be. Mallet, if there’s anything left of the Bridgeburners, they need you right now.’

‘Aye, Captain, and knowing that’s been eating me up inside.’

‘All right. Listen, then. The fiery Abyss has broken loose down in this keep under us. We’ve no idea who’s doing the fighting, but we do know one thing – they’re no friends of the Pannions. So, Mallet, take Spindle and the rest – that trapdoor back there looks flimsy enough to break open if it’s locked.’

‘Aye, Captain. Only, how do we get there without being seen?’

‘Spindle’s right about those condors – they’re busy with something else, and looking more agitated with every beat of the heart. It’s a short sprint, Healer. But if you’re not willing to risk it—’

Mallet glanced at Spindle, then at Detoran and Trotts. Finally, at Antsy. The sergeant nodded. Mallet sighed. ‘Aye, sir, we’ll give it a go.’

Paran glanced at Quick Ben. ‘Any objections, Wizard?’