Eleven o’clock and Maigraith was keeping watch on the north gate, as she had for days. She was not yet ready to take Karan and Llian on; there were too many unanswered questions. Who had created the great statue of Rulke? Why was Karan watching the gate? Who was she expecting?

She wasn’t here now; she had left an hour ago with Llian. Maigraith turned back to the track. Her Charon heritage meant that she had little need of sleep and she planned to watch all night. Whoever was coming, she was going to get to them first.

And half an hour later a tall woman appeared, riding a weary grey mare and leading another. Maigraith recognised her at once – Thandiwe Moorn. What was she doing here? Causing trouble, no doubt.

Maigraith went down to the north gate and peered through a spy hole. Even covered in dust and exhausted, Thandiwe was a striking woman. She dismounted wearily and led the horses to a watering trough.

Maigraith threw the double gates open. Thandiwe spun round, staring at her.

“Are you… Maigraith?”

“What’s your business here?”

After some hesitation, Thandiwe said, “Rulke’s papers. May I come in?”

Since she was Karan’s enemy, Maigraith might make use of her. She gestured Thandiwe in.

The moment she passed through the doors Maigraith heard a distant tchunnk and felt a small vibration pass through the tiled entrance hall. Then a humming sound began, at the lower edge of hearing, as if something in Alcifer had woken – but why would it wake to Thandiwe? Unless…

Maigraith caught Thandiwe’s right arm, spun her and twisted it up behind her back. “You’re carrying something. What is it?”

“I’m not,” Thandiwe blustered.

“You know how powerful I used to be.”

“Yes,” Thandiwe said, tensing.

Maigraith jerked her arm up, hard. “I’m far more powerful now. I can kill you in one second… or draw it out for a week.”

The resistance drained out of Thandiwe. “I’ve got Rulke’s key.”

Maigraith hissed between her teeth. “The one he gave to Llian so he could tell the true story of the Charon?”

“Yes,” Thandiwe whispered.

“Llian would never have cast away so great an obligation. You stole the key.”

“He betrayed me!”

Maigraith released Thandiwe’s arm. “Come with me.”

Thandiwe eyed her warily. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorely in need of news about Karan and Llian, and everything else that’s happened in the past month.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Your life,” Maigraith said coldly. “Anything else depends on the quality of your information. And its veracity! But if all is well, I may be of some benefit to you.”

“If you’re so powerful, why do you need me?”

“The job needs two.”

Maigraith led Thandiwe to the bulbous upper floor of a pencil-thin tower where she often sat to look over the sea or the mountains. Maigraith had a store of preserved Charon food there, found in one of the pantries. Rulke must have stocked them on his last visit ten years ago, and the meats, cheeses, smoked fish and pickles were now fully mature. She brought out a bottle of yellow wine. Maigraith rarely drank but she assumed Thandiwe, being a former friend of Llian’s, would share his greed for it.

“Eat and talk,” said Maigraith.

Thandiwe ate for an hour and talked for three, by which time Maigraith had as thorough an account of the doings of the past month as any chronicler could have given her. She poured Thandiwe another goblet of wine and sat back. Thandiwe was regarding her anxiously, perhaps wondering if she would get out of here alive. Maigraith was wondering the same thing.

“I judge that you have spoken the truth,” said Maigraith. “Though the accounts of your dealings with Llian are slanted in your favour.” Thandiwe stirred. “But what do I care?” Maigraith went on. “I hate him!”

Thandiwe sipped her wine. Maigraith poured herself a half-goblet. Rulke had brought it here for his own use, so it must be the best.

“The secret of mancery,” she said thoughtfully. “A great opportunity, but also a great danger.”

“How do you know it’s a great danger?” said Thandiwe.

“I spent a month in the mountains, my mind in a… numinous state after Karan dosed me with hrux. I know about the summon stone and how it came to be there.”

“How did it?” Thandiwe said eagerly.

“Show me the key.”

Thandiwe reluctantly opened an enamelled locket and tipped the silver key onto the table. It was only the length of a finger joint and the shaft was no thicker than a needle. Maigraith shivered. It had been Rulke’s; he had worn it on his body, and as he lay dying he had given it to Llian to ensure that the story of his people survived. Could it be right to thwart his will and take it?

Thandiwe was watching her anxiously. Maigraith touched the key with a fingertip and felt an unpleasant stinging prickle. A warning. She put her hands in her lap, below the level of the table so Thandiwe could not see, and studied her fingertip. It was red and covered in small blisters. Clearly she was not meant to use this key, and yet it had not affected Thandiwe. Maigraith took that as a sign that Thandiwe should tell the story instead of Llian. He did not deserve it!

And the key was linked to Alcifer, since something in the city had roused the instant it passed through the north gate. It was something to investigate at a later date.

“I know you to be a fine chronicler and a gifted teller,” said Maigraith. “Therefore, after you’ve done me a small favour, I will show you where the Histories of the Charon are and allow you to keep the translation key. Then you will leave Alcifer with the records and never return.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” said Thandiwe. “What is the favour?”

“Had you been less desperate you would have asked before agreeing. But what I say, I do. First you will help me to trap Llian – via Karan.”

“With the greatest pleasure. She doesn’t deserve him.”

“Yes, she does,” Maigraith said ominously.

“Where will I find her?”

“She watches the north gate from dawn until dusk – for you, presumably. When you ride up after dawn, she will be waiting. Lead her to me and I’ll do the rest.”

Maigraith mapped a small part of Alcifer on a piece of paper, then marked the route Thandiwe was to take from the north gate.

Thandiwe traced the route with her finger, her lips moving, then rose. “I’ll see to my horses and move them out of sight. After that I’m at your disposal.”

“Yes, you are,” said Maigraith.