She felt, but did not understand, that they were held together by the arcane glamour Mallian had cast upon them. They were sad objects, each of them exuding the pain, fear and sorrow of the creatures they had been taken from. Gregor the Kin-killer had taken them, and in the end he had been betrayed by the one Kin he worshipped above all, Mallian the Nephilim. That was one death that Sammi did not mourn. The sum of Gregor’s evil deeds were here, and she felt an overwhelming wave of sadness for those poor dead things.

The past was gone, and the future was uncertain. If she was to help she had to concentrate on that, forming her burgeoning skills and talents into a plan that might help them against Mallian. She had seen how powerful and strong he was even without Grace as his unwilling general. With the fairy on his side he might well be unbeatable.

Sammi understood that fighting Mallian was not the way to stop him, to begin with at least. Weakening him, taking away his advantage, was the first thing to do, and to achieve that she had to strip away his hold over the fairy.

Restrained within this rough circle of sad relics was a portion of Grace’s soul. Mallian had stolen part of her and made it his own, and if Sammi could find a way of setting that fragment free—giving Grace’s soul flight so that it could find its way back and recombine with her powerful, primeval self—she would break his hold over the fairy.

What Grace might do then, none of them knew.

Sammi glanced up after Angela and Vince. Angela remained close by, her back turned to Sammi but always aware of where she was. Vince had gone to meet the approaching Kin. They understood even less of what was happening to her than she did, but their presence was a comfort.

Seeking to embrace the frightening, growing power inside, rather than pull away from it, Sammi concentrated on the relics and let her energies flow.

* * *

Vince saw movement through the rain. It was darker than when they’d arrived—day and night had also been thrown into even more chaos by Grace’s absence—and the rain caught errant light and cast flickering shapes across the landscape. The movement he saw was definite and determined, and as it came closer a form began to coalesce from the shadows.

“It’s Dastion,” Vince said.

Angela was behind him, still close to Sammi and the relics.

“Who?”

“He’s a dwarf. I haven’t seen him for a long while. A year, or more. Last time we spoke was the first time. He was drunk and depressed. Then he disappeared underground. He must have been digging ever since.”

“How do you know?”