Bursting on to the wide rampart that ran along the top of the mountain wall, claws skittering, she nearly collided with two shapewalkers who had been standing there looking out across the cloudscape of white mist that stretched away over the Rotlands, cloaking the advance of Noxis and his seepers below.

‘Hey, steady there, young fox-thing,’ one of them said. ‘You shouldn’t be up here!’

Liska looked up to see a battle-scarred walker with her locks pulled up into a topknot. Her hair was shaved to the skin on either side in the warrior style, revealing a nasty scar where she had lost the top of one ear.

‘Alarm . . .’ Liska’s chest heaved as she fought to get words out. ‘Below . . . Stubbings . . . seepers . . .’

‘What are you talking about?’ The second shapewalker bent down to scowl at her, his eyes flashing with fury. ‘Griffyxes aren’t allowed on the Breach! Get back to your foxhole!’

Being talked down to reminded Liska of the way her parents kept on treating her like a helpless cub. It made her temper flare. With a growl of her own, she wrenched herself out of her animal form, rising up on two legs and flinging back her cloak. Even as her body rippled back into its human shape, she was shouting in the second shapewalker’s face.

‘Don’t tell me where to go! I’m trying to save you all! There’s seepers and rot creatures coming through the mountain down below, in the swamp! A tunnel has been opened and they’re inside the city, right under your stupid noses!’

The effort of changing shape so quickly, coupled with her frantic flight, overcame her and she felt her knees give way just as she spat out the last word. She toppled to the stone of the walkway and the first shapewalker leapt to grab her.

‘Is this true?’ she asked. ‘It’s not some silly fox-cub trick?’

‘Please . . .’ was all Liska could say. She could almost feel the oily creatures below her pouring into Arborven.

The first shapewalker pulled Liska into her arms. She smelt of oiled leather, mountain mist and . . . cat. ‘Abra!’ She snapped at her partner. ‘Don’t just stand there! Light the signal fire! Sound the alarm . . . we are attacked!’

Abra stared down at them for a second before realising she was serious. Fear and anger flickered over his face, and then he was away, pulling his cloak over his head as he ran. From her place on the floor, Liska had a glimpse of two clawed legs, a whiplash tail and a pair of enormous bat-like wings appearing. The thing jogged along the parapet before taking off, looking back as it launched: it had a beaked, feathered head and the leathery comb of a rooster.

Cockatrice, Liska thought as her woozy head swam. I’ve only seen them in the distance before. They’re so much bigger than I’d imagined.