“Maybe not,” Vince said. “If we can break his control over the fairy, once the army gets here he’ll recognise the overwhelming odds. He’ll back down.”

“You really think that?” Bone asked. “You didn’t see what he did, how brutal he was.” He sounded shocked, haunted.

“I’ve seen him do worse,” Vince said.

“So you believe a thing like that will put its arms up and surrender?”

“Maybe, if he sees he has no other choice.”

“You have a plan?” Bone asked. “Because time’s ticking.”

“I can hear it,” Vince said. “Yeah, we’ve got something of a plan, and maybe you can help. When will the army arrive?”

“Six, seven hours.”

“We can’t let him leave,” Vince said. Beside him, Dastion nodded.

“He won’t wait for very long,” Bone said. “His blood’s up.”

“We’ll make sure he stays.”

“How?”

Vince shrugged. “That part I’m still working on.” He looked at Dastion and Shashahanna in the darkness, vague shadows, exotic and amazing creatures who he could smell, feel, touch. Sometimes he forgot how incredible these beings were. He hated that events took away their wonder. He wished he could simply be with them and enjoy their company, rather than pitching one Kin against another, or watching while the maddest of them declared war.

“Will we find help?” he asked, and they both knew what he was asking.

“I’m sure,” Dastion said.

“I’ll try to talk them into it,” Shashahanna said.

“Help from where?” Bone asked.

“Somewhere else,” Vince said, because there wasn’t time to explain. He didn’t really know how to explain. “A place we have to get back to. You wait for the army to arrive and guide them in. Though by then, I reckon they’ll know where to come.”

“Just follow the fight, right?” Bone asked.

“I think so,” Vince said. “It makes my skin crawl, but I think that’s the only way this can end.”

27

27

Angela hated being alone with Fer and Sammi. Sammi was distracted, kneeling close to the relics and silent, concentrating on whatever was happening inside her young head. Angela wanted to hold her, drag her away from all this and find some way of giving the girl normality once again, but she knew that was a foolish hope. Normality had left them years ago, and it could never return. The irony was, Sammi seemed much more adaptable than Angela, and more ready to make the most of the way things were.

That would be the fairy blood in her veins.