‘You forget, Nathair. I know you. I know what you have done. What lines you have already crossed in the name of the greater good.’

Nathair raised a hand and took a step back, as if warding a blow. His draig stopped crunching bones to cast its baleful glare upon Calidus.

‘I do not say it as a criticism, but as a compliment. Once you are committed to a cause you will do whatever is necessary to see it through. Whatever it takes, regardless of the cost. A rare ability in this world of frailty and weakness. And one that we need. I respect that. So I ask you, Nathair: join us. Commit to our cause and you will gain all you desire, see your dreams come to fruition, your ambition rewarded. And if you think on it, it is not so different from all that you were striving for before the scales fell from your eyes.’

Alcyon shifted from behind Calidus. ‘Someone comes,’ he said, pulling his newly acquired war-hammer from his back.

‘Where?’ Calidus asked, hand on sword hilt, eyes narrowed.

Alcyon pointed south-east, into the moorland. A dark speck solidified, moving at considerable speed.

‘It is one of my brothers,’ Calidus said. ‘One of those that left with Danjal.’

They stood in silence as the figure approached. It covered the ground quickly, running with a loping gait. As it drew near, Uthas saw it was weaving.

And something is wrong with its arm.

It must have seen them standing on the road, for it veered towards them, collapsing before Calidus. Its hand was severed just above the wrist, blood still trickling from the wound. It was pale as milk, veins black within its skin. Nathair’s draig gave a low rumbling growl.

‘I am weak,’ the Kadoshim rasped. ‘This body is failing.’

‘I warned you,’ Calidus said. ‘These bodies are still mortal. Soon it will die from loss of blood.’

‘Help me,’ the Kadoshim whispered.

‘Swear to obey me in all things,’ Calidus said, voice cold as winter-forged iron.

‘I swear it. Please . . .’

‘Bind his arm,’ Calidus snapped at Alcyon, kneeling to put an arm about the injured Kadoshim. ‘You must look after your new body, Bune. Like a weapon, it must be cared for. You have lost much blood, but if we treat your wound and feed you, all will be well.’

‘My thanks,’ the creature croaked. ‘I would not return to the Otherworld so soon.’

‘Then no more of this foolish charging off to fight unwinnable battles. Danjal? The others?’

‘All gone, back to the Otherworld. There were too many against us, and these bodies . . .’ Bune held up his uninjured arm. ‘It is taking me some time to adjust to it.’

‘It will. Come, back to our kin where we can tend you better.’ Calidus glanced at Alcyon, who finished binding the wrist and then lifted Bune in his arms. Calidus led them back towards the gates of Murias, Nathair and his draig following slowly behind. Birds circled lazily above, the remnants of Nemain’s ravens lured by the stench of carrion. Uthas glared at them with something akin to hatred, thinking of Fech. As they stepped within the shadow of the fortress, Uthas saw a raven perched on a ledge in the cliff face. It stared back at him. For a moment he was convinced it was Fech and he raised a hand involuntarily to his scarred face.