Ahkio stared down at the slight man surrounded by Oras and militia on the council house floor. His wrists and ankles were bound. He lay on his side. Dark fluid oozed from his mouth, his broken nose. His long, dark hair stuck to his sweaty neck. Ghrasia stood between him and Ahkio, hand already on her sword, the hilt wrapped around her wrist.

“We had him talking,” Caisa said.

“Is that so?” Ahkio asked the man.

“I can talk,” the man said. He sounded like any other Dhai. No trace of an accent. Of course not.

“Why are you here, then; have you answered that?” Ahkio asked. “We could resolve our differences peacefully. There was no need for violence.”

“This is where the hunting ends,” the man said. He showed dark, stained teeth.

“You’re right about that,” Ahkio said. “We took your messenger. We’ll take the rest of you.”

“There are more of us than you can imagine.”

“And I’ll kill you one at a time.”

“Bold words for a pacifist.”

“Things change.”

The man chuckled. “You think you’ve cornered us, Kai. But it’s us who’ve cornered you. We’ve softened the way for an army that will overwhelm your harbor come spring, and you’re too late to stop it.”

“Ghrasia–” Ahkio said.

But Ghrasia was already looking around the room – the windows, the door.

Caisa took a step back. Ahkio felt a prickling across his shoulders, but that could just as easily have been the presence of the other Oras in the room, keeping the shadow bound. The room went quiet. The air was heavy.

“Did you drug him?” Ahkio asked Caisa. “They’re gifted.”

“Of course,” Caisa said.

Ahkio’s ears popped. “Get this man out of here,” Ahkio said. “The rest of you, out!”

Ohanni and Shanigan grabbed the man. Hauled him out. A wave of air shuddered through the room.

Then all of the others were moving. Ahkio heard a groan of timber above. A creaking of glass.

The windows of the council house imploded. A spray of glass shot past Ahkio’s head. A wall of air buffered his path, but it was not solid. He pushed through it, like walking through water. He came out on the other side, stumbled.

“Ghrasia?” Figures streamed past him.

His voice was swallowed in the groan of timber, the cracking of adenoak beams. The floor shook violently.

“Kai!” Caisa said. “The maps!” She bolted back upstairs.

Ahkio ran after her. He got halfway up the stairs before the whole house groaned and heaved sideways. He fell. Caisa appeared at the top of the crooked stairway, Kirana’s maps of the temple under one arm. She’d grabbed four books. She threw them down. Half her face was covered in blood.

The lanterns in the hall were dimming and flickering as the flame flies moved in frantic circles.