‘I am no daughter of thine, Azash.’ Flute’s voice was crisp. ‘I willed myself into existence, as did my brothers and sisters when thou and thy kindred did tear at the fabric of reality with thy childish contention. I am thy daughter only through thy fault. Hadst thou and thy kindred turned ye aside from that reckless course which would have destroyed all, there would have been no need for me and mine.’

‘I will have Bhelliom!’ The hollow voice was the thunder and the earthquake, tearing at the very foundations of the earth.

‘Thou shalt not!’ Flute’s voice was flatly contradictory. ‘It was to deny thee and thy kind possession of Bhelliom that I and my kind came into existence. Bhelliom is not of this place, and it must not be held here in bondage to thee or to me or to the Troll-Gods or any other Gods of this world.’

‘I will have it!’ The voice of Azash rose to a scream.

‘No. Anakha will destroy it first, and in its destruction shalt thou perish.’

The idol seemed to flinch. ‘How darest thou!’ it gasped. ‘How darest thou even speak such horror? In the death of one of us lieth the seeds of the deaths of us all.’

‘So be it then.’ Aphrael’s tone was indifferent. Then her light little voice took on a cruel note. ‘Direct thy fury at me, Azash, and not at my children, for it was I who used the power of the rings to emasculate thee and to confine thee forever in that idol of mud.’

‘It was thou?’ The terrible voice seemed stunned.

‘It was I. Thy power is so abated by thine emasculation that thou canst not escape thy confinement. Thou wilt not have Bhelliom, impotent Godling, and thus shalt thou be forever imprisoned. Thou shalt remain unmanned and confined until the farthest star burns down to ashes.’ She paused, and when she spoke again it was in the tone of one slowly twisting a knife buried in the body of another. ‘It was thine absurd and transparent proposal that all the Gods of Styricum unite to seize Bhelliom from the Troll-Gods – “for the good of all” – that gave me the opportunity to mutilate and confine thee, Azash. Thou hast none to blame but thyself for what hath befallen thee. And now Anakha hath brought Bhelliom and the rings – and even the Troll-Gods locked within the jewel – here to confront thee. I call upon thee to submit to the power of the Sapphire Rose – or to perish.’

There was a howl of inhuman frustration, but the idol made no move.