It happened in the blink of an eye, easy for anyone to miss, but with the crowds gathered in the graveyard, there were still many who saw, and Arlen could hear their shouts of surprise flowing through the rest of the assembly.

Thamos paced the tent like a caged nightwolf. Every so often, his eyes flicked to the throne and his scowl deepened, looking like he might kick it over in a rage. If Amanvah and her entourage had not been present, he likely would have. The dama’ting’s harsh words had cut him deeply. She had retreated to her couch and been silent since, but the damage was done.

Leesha laid a hand on the count’s arm, feeling the tension he was holding even through his armour. He turned to her and she reached out, tracing the line of fresh enamel on his breastplate where it had been repaired. ‘No one in the Hollow thinks you a coward,’ she said, her voice too low for the others to hear. ‘The scars on your armour tell how you have stood between them and the naked night. I don’t like waiting here any more than you do, but there will be work for us both soon enough.’

Thamos nodded. ‘It is just those women. They are …’

‘Simply impossible, I know,’ Leesha said. ‘But they were right about one thing.’

‘Eh?’ Thamos asked.

‘The throne was too much to bring,’ Leesha said. ‘It says you think you’re better than folk, but that’s not the man they need.’

‘Is that why they so love your Painted Man?’ Thamos asked, a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Leesha smiled. ‘That, and he can kick a hole through a rock demon.’

Thamos laughed. ‘Ay, I should learn that trick.’

For a moment, there was warmth between them, but then Amanvah spoke again, and Leesha’s blood ran cold.

‘The alagai are building a greatward of their own.’

‘Night, are you certain?’ Leesha asked.

Thamos strode over to the table with his great map of the Hollow. ‘What kind of ward?’ he demanded. ‘How big? Where?’

Amanvah shrugged, her head cocked as she continued to listen. ‘I only know what I’ve heard.’ She paused. ‘I am not certain my honoured husband and his companions can see any more from their vantage.’

Inquisitor Hayes drew a ward in the air, mouthing prayers. Part of Leesha wanted to join him, but she had learned long ago that the Creator did not intervene on His children’s behalf. If they were to be saved, they would have to save themselves.

Amanvah gasped and gave a shriek. Everyone tensed, waiting for more news, but the dama’ting said nothing. There was real fear in her eyes, and Leesha was reminded again that for all her training, she was still little more than a girl. Sikvah, normally the more emotionally demonstrative of the two, was strangely calm. She laid a hand on her sister-wife’s shoulder, offering silent strength.

After a few moments, Amanvah let out a breath. ‘He was attacked, but he is playing now.’ The pride was evident in her voice. ‘Even on Waning, the alagai cannot resist my honoured husband so long as he plays.’

Sikvah nodded. ‘Everam speaks to him.’

But then Amanvah fell to her knees. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No, no, no. Please, husband, do not …’

She did not finish the sentence. Sikvah dropped to her knees behind her sister-wife, gentling her shoulders. Amanvah’s face was blank and she said nothing, but Leesha could imagine what was going through her mind.

Leesha pulled at her skirts as she got to her knees in front of Amanvah. She reached out, taking Amanvah’s soft hands in her own and squeezing, trying to lend strength as Sikvah did.

‘Amanvah,’ she said, not bothering to hide the desperation in her voice, ‘please tell me what’s happened. Is Rojer …?’

‘Not yet,’ Amanvah said. ‘He is still playing, but he is no longer driving back the alagai. He is calling them to him, that his companions may live.’

There was a patter, and a spot appeared on the perfect white silk on her lap. Sikvah slipped a tiny bottle from somewhere in her black robes and reached out, catching Amanvah’s tears as they fell. ‘His honour knows no bounds, and Everam will seat him in His great hall on the sixth pillar of Heaven,’ she said. Amanvah nodded, weeping all the harder.

This went on for several minutes, but then Amanvah’s eyes lit up and she straightened. ‘He fights again! All Nie’s forces at his heel, and he stands to face them!’

Sikvah swiftly stoppered the now full bottle and produced another, ready to catch more tears if they fell. ‘Can even he—’

‘Of course he can!’ Amanvah snapped, her strength returned. ‘He is Rojer, son of Jessum, disciple of Arrick of the sweetest song and son-in-law to Shar’Dama Ka.’ She paused, clenching a fist. ‘But the alagai will be the least of his worries when I see him again.’

‘Honest word,’ Leesha agreed.

‘The Par’chin is with him now,’ Amanvah said a moment later. ‘He is …’ She furrowed her brow. ‘The alagai, they …’

Just then there was a shout, and all eyes turned to see Arlen suddenly standing in the centre of the graveyard. Even Leesha, who understood something of Arlen’s powers, gaped. He had been miles away in Newhaven just a moment before.

But there could be no doubt he was here now as his voice boomed like thunder. ‘Mount and stand ready! We ride into the night in minutes!’

He turned, striding purposefully towards the count’s tent, and the crowd parted around him, some whispering in awe, others shouting.

‘He just appeared like a demon!’ one woman cried.

Inquisitor Hayes blocked his path as Arlen reached the tent. ‘How is this possible?’ he demanded. ‘The Canon states we must not take the corelings’ methods as our …’

Arlen reached out, brushing the Inquisitor aside like a child, never slowing. ‘Ent got time to argue scripture now, Tender.’

Hayes looked outraged, and Child Franq moved to block Arlen’s path, but Thamos banged a gauntleted fist on the table. ‘Holy Men out! See that our fighters have the Creator’s blessing!’ The Inquisitor and his entourage looked at him, but the count met their eyes with a hard look, and they moved quickly to comply.

‘What’s happened?’ Thamos asked as Arlen came over to where he stood by the map. Arlen did not immediately answer, considering the map a moment before taking a brush and dipping it in the bowl of ink, expertly drawing thick wards over areas that had once been virgin woodland.

‘The mind demons have built greatwards, here, here, and here,’ Arlen said, pointing to New Rizon, Newhaven, and Lakdale. ‘Already they are activating.’ He lightened pressure on the brush to draw the thinner lines of connection. When he was done, the great wardnet of Hollow County was a circle within the triangle of the mind demons’ wards. ‘The net will only get stronger as the rock demons continue to dig, cutting off the Hollow and draining power from our wardnet.’

The wards were elegant, and Leesha knew at a glance that they were powerful. There was a slight similarity in their shape to wards she had seen when Inevera trapped her in Jardir’s palace.

‘They’re human wards,’ she guessed. ‘We will no more be able to set foot across their lines than they can ours.’