“Ussarine?” bellowed Shand.

“What’s happening?” Ussarine cried as they tumbled through the gate. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.” The wind was howling in his ears and he could barely hear her. “I was trying for Alcifer, but —”

They were jerked one way then another, as if two people were fighting over them. Ussarine’s flailing fist struck Shand in the nose so hard that his eyes watered. He grabbed her wrist with both hands and held on. They were spinning in a flat circle now. Ussarine pulled him against her.

“I’m afraid —” he said.

“Of where we’re going?”

“And who’s sending us there.”

“Did the summon stone open your gate?”

“Yes, to get rid of us,” he said grimly. “But I’m not sure it’s controlling it now.”

“Who is?”

“Either Snoat or the magiz.” Could the Command device really give Snoat the power to seize control of a gate? It was a troubling thought.

“Wherever they’re sending us, we don’t want to go there,” she said.

“Hang on! I’ll try to find Tallia.”

Ussarine clamped her arms around him. Shand closed his eyes and attempted to visualise her, but all he could see was old Nadiril, sitting at a table with another of those ridiculous ear-shaped listening devices in front of him. He would do.

The gate ejected them and they landed with a thump that tore them apart. Shand skidded across a tiled floor on his knees, bump-bump-bump, and crashed into a row of chairs, knocking them over one by one. Some distance away a table was turned upside down. Crockery smashed and cutlery went ringing and tinkling across the floor.

“What the blazes is going on!” A door was thrown open and Yggur stood there swaying. “You!”

“Displeased to see you too,” said Shand.

Both knees had been torn out of his trousers and his knees were bleeding. He rubbed them furiously, then went looking for Ussarine. She was lying under the ruins of the table, which had lost three of its legs in the impact. A long bruise ran from one side of her forehead to the other.

“Shand?” said another man. “Is Ussarine…?”

“Here,” said Shand, heaving the top of the table aside and helping her up.

Ussarine probed the bruise with her fingertips, winced, then stood up, beaming. “Hingis!”

The ugly little man was staring at her, his eyes shining. She ran four steps and threw her arms wide. “It’s so good to see you.”

Shand scratched the back of his neck. They made an odd couple. Though, he supposed, not much odder than he and Yalkara had been. Esea appeared in the doorway, frowning at the commotion, and when she saw Ussarine with her arms around Hingis, Esea’s breath hissed between her teeth and she stalked out.

“About time you got back from holidays,” said Yggur to Shand.

Yggur looked stronger now, almost like his old commanding self. Shand felt a surge of hope; he could be a powerful ally, and he had gifts that no one understood.

“I might say the same to you,” said Shand.

He went into the adjoining room, where Nadiril sat in a chair by a fire, toying with the enchanted leather ear and talking to Tallia. They shook hands. The others trooped in. Hingis was sweating, and Esea very pale.

“I gather things aren’t going so well here,” said Shand. “Wherever here is.”

“Vilikshathûr,” said Tallia. “I wonder how you got here if you didn’t know where you were heading.”

“I was originally aiming for Alcifer.”

“Why there?” said Nadiril.

Shand summarised what had happened in Carcharon. “How goes the war?”

“Bad,” said Tallia. “Snoat’s armies are rampaging down the length of Iagador and there’s nothing we can do to stop him.” She summed up the situation. “Since he lost Pem-Y-Rum, he’s been making war like a man obsessed.”

“It undermined his very identity,” said Shand, “and to a narcissist that’s unbearable. He’s got to prove himself all over again. Any news from Malien?”

“No.”

“Are you riding back to Carcharon?” said Hingis.

“Only if there’s no other way. It’s more than a week’s journey, through lands occupied by Snoat’s army. We don’t have the time, and if we’re caught our last hope will be lost.”

“What are you going to do about the summon stone, then?”

“I’ll try to reopen the gate,” Shand said wearily. “That won’t be easy or quick, and given that the stone just expelled us, I can’t imagine it’ll let us return.”

“Someone has to kill Snoat,” said Tallia.

“Where is he now?”

“On the flagship of his fleet, offshore, blockading Vilikshathûr.”

“It’s not easy to protect a ship, even in the middle of a fleet. On a dark night, one man can sink a ship if he knows where to place the charge.”

“How would we do it?”

“Not with mancery. We’ll send in a dozen saboteurs in black canoes, carrying incendiaries and barrels of blasting powder.”

Tallia nodded. “It could work. Nadiril?”

“Do it!”

She rose. “I’ll get it organised for tonight.” She went out.

Shand sat with Nadiril and Yggur, telling them the grim details of the past week and a half. It felt good to be working as a team again.

Before he finished, Tallia ran in. “Snoat’s flagship separated from the fleet an hour ago and is racing south.”

“Why south?” said Yggur.

“He must have traced Llian’s gate to Alcifer,” said Shand. “Snoat wants Llian’s manuscript back desperately.”

“Can we get there first?” said Nadiril.

“We might, if we had a fast enough ship.”

“I’ve made an arrangement with a fat lout of a fellow called Pender,” said Hingis. “Can’t say I like him much, but he does have a lot of ships.”

“I used to know him well,” said Shand. “Tell him we want the fastest one he’s got and we need to leave in –” he consulted the chalcedony clock on the mantelpiece “– three hours. Have your saboteurs ready to embark, Tallia. If we can catch him, we’ll send him down with his ship and put an end to the bloody business.”

Hingis was sweating as he lurched into the little room at the back where Esea was waiting. Since her return from Chanthed three days ago they had maintained an uneasy peace based on never mentioning the betrayal that had torn them apart, but he had known it could not last if Ussarine came back.

Esea looked haggard. Their schism was eating her up as much as it had him.

She forced a smile. “Hingis —”

Breath rasped into his good lung. “Please don’t force me to choose.”

“I wasn’t going to. I want you to be happy, and if that means you have to be with her…”

“It does.”

“Then as long as we’re reconciled, I’m happy too.”

She did not look it, but he said, “Thank you.”

“I’ll even give you my blessing… if you can do one little thing for me.”

“Anything!” he said hoarsely.

“Would you change my bandages? It’s hard to do by myself.”

He froze. It was a test, one he must not fail. “Yes,” he croaked. “Of course.”

He could do this. He went down on his knees, took off her left shoe and sock, then slowly unwrapped the bandages. He told himself that the loss of two toes was insignificant; Esea was still a hundred times more perfect than he.

The ragged wounds where her toes had been were almost healed now. Their loss hardly changed her at all. His twin was still beautiful, and Hingis needed her to be, to balance his own hideousness – inside and out. He looked up. There was a sheen of sweat on her lovely forehead; she was desperately hoping he could do this.

He smiled. It was all right after all. Esea let out her breath.

The drumming sounded, very soft, very low, but not low enough. Hingis looked down at her maimed foot, gave an involuntary shudder and ruined everything.