‘Yes.’ He sighed, and it was Pari’s turn to chuckle. ‘But you’re so good at it, at people, I mean. You always have been.’

‘Used to be.’

‘No,’ she replied warmly, firmly, and rested her hand on his. ‘Are. You just need to remember. Treat this as a warm up before we have to deal with the Sapphire.

He opened his eyes so that he could give her a disbelieving look. ‘So you’re doing me a favour?’

‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You are most welcome, dear brother. Now, tell me what you have in mind.’

He closed his eyes again. ‘Something brilliant.’

‘There it is again,’ called Arkav to the servants, as he leant out of the carriage window. ‘A Whispercage, I’m sure of it.’

Pari sat crouched by the opposite door. She had changed out of her regalia and into clothes more fit for travel. Truth be told, she didn’t entirely approve of the plan. It seemed too likely to result in pain, hers, which was by far her least favourite.

‘No,’ said Arkav, sounding impatient. ‘Look lower, just on the edge of the sunslight, it’s there, keeping pace with us. Do you see it?’

As the servants tried to assess the threat, Pari opened the door, marvelling at how much faster they seemed to be going than before. No doubt another side effect of this ‘brilliant’ plan.

She didn’t think too hard about what she was going to do. This wasn’t the first time she’d thrown herself into the air without wings, and it certainly wasn’t the worst. A memory of being ejected from Lord Rochant’s castle came to her, of a great expanse of nothing between her and the cracked earth, and then another, of unknown depths into the chasm itself. In comparison the few feet between her and the ground seemed laughable.

However, Pari wasn’t laughing.

With a last look to her brother, she kicked out, sailing wingless through the air, clearing the Godroad and angling towards the dead stalks that lined its edge. Though contact with the Godroad was sure to kill anything of the Wild, the senseless hunger of the forest drove it towards the crystal again and again. Each time the vegetation would burn, the tips turning to ash on contact, the trunks and stems reduced to dry husks that formed a yellow-brown band between the road and the forest.

With a soft crumping sound, Pari hit the bed of dead plants, rolling with the momentum several times to come up standing by the nearest tree. She kept close to it, taking advantage of the cover as she dusted herself down. Neither carriage was slowing, suggesting that her absence had gone unnoticed.