snapped.

The newcomer drew himself up straight. 'Ritual magic? Consorting with Elders? This exceeds all Synod procedural conventions.'

'What conventions?' Jool asked, frowning.

'Time is wasting!' Carfin called out, rising panic in his voice.

Totsin opened his hands. 'Well... obviously it's understood that anything extreme would endanger us all...'

'We're pretty much all here,' Sister Gosh observed tartly.

'This will draw her!' Totsin hissed.

'That tends to happen when you actually do something.'

'I want no part of it.'

Sister Gosh peered round at everyone. 'Ah – we didn't invite you.'

Totsin took hold of his chin. His brows rose high in shocked surprise. 'I see. Well... I'll go then.'

'Yes. Go then.'

Bowing, the man turned and walked off to disappear into the night as if stepping behind shadows.

'I sense her attention!' Brother Carfin called. 'Prepare him!'

'This place isLiossercal.'

Kiska stared at the tent flap. Burn's own blood. The daughter of Osserc, Lord of the Sky. Never did she think she would ever be in such company. Jheval, she noted, had gone almost green at the news; the name meant a great deal to him. Exactly what, she wondered if she would ever discover. For his part, Warran clasped his chin in one hand and mused aloud: 'The fellow does seem to have a lot of daughters.'

On the eighth day of their unopposed advance across Rool, Suth reflected that life was good. No one was trying to eviscerate him; no one was taking potshots at his head; he was even eating better than when growing up on the Dal Hon plains – meat every day! Unheard-of luxury.