Alcyon’s face twitched, muscles spasming. His lip trembled. A tear rolled from one dark eye.

‘My wife. My son.’

‘They are free,’ Veradis whispered.

‘You lie,’ Calidus sneered, though an edge of doubt showed in his voice.

‘I set them free,’ Veradis said, fixing Alcyon with his gaze. ‘Saw them walk out through Brikan’s gates.’

‘Alcyon, kill him.’

Alcyon’s arm hovered over Veradis. It shook, as if caught by an invisible force.

‘No,’ the giant whispered.

‘No?’ Calidus frowned. He and Alcyon glared at one another, beads of sweat breaking out upon both of their brows. Time passed – a dozen heartbeats, a hundred, Veradis did not know. Eventually Calidus turned away, threw open the lid to the chest before the fire and reached inside. Veradis saw more of the clay figures contained within and suddenly remembered Fidele’s explanation of Lykos’ enchantment.

All I know is that he had a doll, a clay figure, a strand of my hair set within it, she had said. When Maquin fought Lykos at the arena it was crushed underfoot, destroyed, and immediately the chains within my mind were broken.

Veradis swept a leg out and kicked the chest into the fire. The flames flared about it, smoke billowing, the smell of burning hair wafting about them.

‘You fool,’ Calidus snarled, a feral rage twisting his face, and he drew his sword.

Alcyon swung his hammer into Calidus’ chest, hurling him back against a wall. He slid to the ground, the wall cracked, fragments of stone falling about him. Slowly Calidus stood, shook his head.

‘Legion,’ he roared, his voice like a storm wind, and the door burst open, the two Jehar surging in. Veradis heard the buzzing of flies.

Veradis stood on shaky legs, the pain in his shoulder still screaming at him. He reached for his sword hilt.

Then a huge arm was wrapping about his waist, lifting him and carrying him across the room in great bounding strides. Towards the open window, Alcyon’s foot on the sill, launching them out into open air and darkness. Then they were falling, tumbling, wind snatching his breath away, still held tight in Alcyon’s iron grip, the black waters of the river below rushing up to meet him.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

EVNIS

Evnis sat in the tower on the northern border of the marshlands and brooded.

There had been no sign of Braith.

He left over a moon ago, and still no word. Yet Evnis trusted Braith – when it came to hunting, anyway. It was not the finding of Edana and her little band of rebels that concerned him, it was what he would do once he knew where they were. Once he had them.