Liska nodded, tucking her precious cargo underneath her cloak. ‘Can anyone see Noxis? Is he fighting too?’

She scanned the hordes in front of them, looking for that evil throne. Noxis knew they had gone to fetch the heart and he knew what they looked like. If he spotted them, they were done for.

‘Wyvern!’

A cry went up from a soaring squad of pantherines just above them. Liska saw them bank left and wheel away, coming back in a defensive pattern designed to fight the flying lizards.

‘Wait!’ she shouted up to them. ‘It’s on our side!’

They hovered, staring down at her in surprise as she pointed to the purple-scaled wyvern that was swooping down towards them, shrieking in fury.

‘It’s Myrtle! Attack, girl! Attack!’

Myrtle zoomed over Embla’s head, wind rushing behind her, and flew low over the ranks of the seepers. She opened her mouth wide and let out a cone of blasting fire. It cut through the beasts, setting them ablaze. Then they scattered, screaming and writhing, spreading the fire amongst their own ranks.

‘Hooray, Myrtle!’ Liska whooped and cheered as the wyvern passed low again and again, burning great holes in the enemy forces each time.

Then, after her fifth attack, she ran out of flame. She circled for a moment or two, gave an apologetic wave of her tail, and left.

‘If only we had an army of Myrtles,’ Fishbone said, tail drooping. She had done impressive damage to Bitterblight’s forces, but not enough to turn the tide of battle.

‘They’ve regrouped already,’ Liska said. The wall of grey troops ahead of them had flowed back together as if Myrtle’s attack had never happened. If anything, there were more of them than before.

‘Your treekeepers cannot break through,’ Embla said. She had stopped marching, watching the brave force of Arborven giants battling against the seepers. The giant they had met in Almberg forest fought hardest of all, his powerful, mossy fists smashing enemies all around him. But there were just too many of the foe. As they stared, one of the treekeepers fell backwards, toppled by the weight of evil creatures swarming all over it. And it didn’t get back up.

‘We need a miracle,’ Liska whispered, looking back to where the mages wove their spells, where Lug’s personal guard of kittimews dashed about like furry whirlwinds, shredding with their claws. Amongst it all she could just about see her friend crouching with both hands pressed to the ground, his eyes closed in concentration.

His lips were moving as he repeated his familiar prayers to the worms. But this time something different happened. An orange glow began to flow from his palms, down into the soil. A deep rumbling could be heard, as if the very bones of the earth were grinding and shaking.