And then the reality of it struck Gavin. And then he threw his arms around his brother again, and said “God damn it, Gabriel, I thought you weren’t coming. I thought . . . I thought this was one of your stupid schemes; that we’d have to hold it ourselves.”

Gabriel nodded. “Good,” he said. “You almost did have to. And God helps those who help themselves.” He put his hands together, and his grin was almost demonic. “Now let’s put it all together,” he said. “I intend to win this in the real, with as few casualties as can be managed. But first . . .”

Tamsin was quivering, and Gabriel put a hand on her arm.

“You want to find him in the aethereal?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “But we cannot reveal our position to Ash . . .”

Gabriel nodded. “That’s over now,” he said. “Who else do you have here? The Patriarch?”

“Yes,” she said.

The emperor went to the Patriarch and knelt in the snow and kissed his ring. Then he rose and took their hands, and he reached into the aethereal, and he took the hand of Queen Desiderata, and Magister Petrarcha, of Tancreda and Mortirmir, of Master Grammarian Nikos and of Kwoqwethogan. There were dozens of others; there was the entirety of the choir of the abbey; there was the new Archbishop of Lorica on the floor of his cathedral in Albinkirk, and there was Tapio. And there was Desiderata.

And Gabriel held them all in his mind, and he threw open the gate outside his memory palace, and he said, ASH.

In the cold darkness, Ash was watching victory and the taste was remarkable—like food after aeons of hunger. His enemies thought the day was over; he was preparing to show them how many of his slaves could fight in the dark. If he traded twenty for one . . .

ASH

In that moment, Ash felt the full weight of his error. It was as if he had been blind, and suddenly was able to see.

What he could see was the power of the choir facing him, which he had only ever known as a divided set of individuals, and the leader of the choir burned a solid gold in the aethereal, and Ash quailed.

“Lot? Is that you?” he asked.

And Gabriel laughed. “Ash. I have crossed seven worlds and won the gates. Your cause is lost. Surrender to our mercy.”

Ash looked at them, from one to another. He was looking for weakness; for division; for hatred or contempt or any flaw. But when he looked at them, he saw nothing but the walls of golden bricks that Desiderata had taught them, and they showed him his lone image reflected back twenty, thirty times.