Karan materialised at the top of the little hill near the clearing. She staggered across to Malien’s night-glasses, which she had left on a stump, and focused them just in time to see chaos erupt at the pavilion in the lake – collapsing columns, sudden blazes and jagged black flashes that had to be someone using the Command device.

“Llian, get out of there!” But the sky ship had drifted in the wind; it was hundreds of yards away. “Malien,” Karan said uselessly, “what are you doing? Go back!”

The sky ship kept drifting away; its twin screws must have failed. Dread enveloped Karan. For a moment she could not move, could not speak. Even if Llian survived, he had no way of escape. There was no sign of Hingis, Esea or Ussarine either. What the hell was going on?

Then Karan remembered Esea stumbling into the clearing that afternoon, and knew. Her face had shown utter despair. Why had Shand sent the three of them? How could he have not seen the danger? Because the magiz had been pulling his strings.

She ran down to the clearing. Shand was there, talking to Yggur, Nadiril and Lilis.

“It’s failed!” Karan screamed. “Damn you, Shand!”

She turned away. She had to get down there now.

“There’s nothing you can do,” said Shand.

There was an odd, glazed look in his eye. The drumming was affecting him again, corrupting him just as it had poor Benie. He sprang at her. She leaped away from him, every muscle aching, and fury flared, at all those people, friends and enemies, who had taken it upon themselves to control her life and her family.

“On Cinnabar I discovered who’s been betraying us to the Merdrun all this time,” she said coldly. “The magiz was boasting about using her pet traitor.”

“Who?” Shand croaked. He turned towards Yggur as if to accuse him.

“You!” she cried. “She put a link in you when you went to Carcharon, looking for Maigraith. And you had the nerve to blame me!”

He doubled over, gasping, and she felt a second’s remorse, but she would pay the price later. She dashed down the road towards the bridge, which was still guarded. Could she get to the island in time? Seconds counted now.

The shoreline was not guarded. Karan stripped off her boots, tied them to her belt and slipped into the water. She was a good swimmer, but at this time of year the water was miserably cold. The drumming was getting louder every second; it was almost deafening now and she saw the moment when it overcame the resistance of the guards and they turned on one another – just as it had turned her allies against each other. Was this how Santhenar was to end?

The pavilion was down but the black flashes kept coming. Why had Llian needed to be there anyway? Was he just a decoy, a sacrifice?

Karan crept out of the water and tripped over the body of a guard, lying where he had been slain. His sword was gone but there was a long brown club on his belt. She took it and, swinging it back and forth, ran barefoot up towards the pavilion.

There were bodies all around it – Snoat’s guards. Another guard loomed up. She thumped him over the head. A second man, very tall, appeared behind him. Karan was about to whack him as well when he hissed, “Yggur!”

“Help me look for Llian.”

“All right,” Yggur said mildly. At least he was unaffected by the drumming.

Karan went back and forth through the ruined pavilion. There was no sign of Llian. The light was fading; whatever had caught fire down near the water was burning away. Then, circling the ruins again, she trod on something soft, and it groaned.

“Ussarine?” said Karan. “Are you injured?”

“Broken legs.”

She was half covered by debris – twisted copper sheets and broken screens. Karan heaved them aside. Underneath, two of the slender pavilion columns had fallen on Ussarine, one across her chest and the other over her shins.

Karan could not budge either. Yggur materialised out of the darkness and lifted them away.

Karan sat Ussarine up. “Have you seen Llian?”

“No,” said Ussarine.

“What happened?” said Yggur.

“Knocked out, then the pavilion brought down on me,” Ussarine said grimly. “Do you know where Hingis…?”

From the tone of her voice, she feared him dead. “No,” said Karan.

She caught another dark flash a long way to the east, followed by a bright flare. An image flashed into her mind – Llian’s body lying on an expanse of smooth stones. The image Sulien had seen in her second nightmare. Karan stifled a cry; she had to keep going.

“We can’t stay here,” said Yggur.

Only then did she take in what Ussarine had said. Knocked out, then the pavilion brought down on me. “Are you saying Esea attacked you?”

“If she hadn’t,” said Ussarine, “I would have got Llian out. And the Command device.”

A blistering fury swelled in Karan. Esea had been willing to sacrifice Llian, and their hopes of killing Snoat and taking on the Merdrun, solely to rid herself of a good woman who had come between her and her twin.

Karan looked up as the sky ship, its rotors spinning furiously, appeared above the wrecked pavilion.

“Hoy!” she yelled. “Two broken legs. Lower a rope.”

A rope was dropped. Karan tied it under Ussarine’s arms. Yggur bent and, with an effort, lifted her. The Aachim raised her into the sky ship. Karan dragged herself up the ladder, wet and cold and utterly shattered, and Yggur followed.

“It’s a disaster,” she said in a deathly voice. “Shand has been corrupted by the drumming; Llian is lost because Esea betrayed us; Snoat got away with the Command device… and the Merdrun are coming through the Crimson Gate who knows where.”