Ishbel and Maximilian sat alone among the reeds on the eastern side of what had once been the River Lhyl. It was dusk. They had moved here in the late afternoon, not caring that DarkGlass Mountain’s shadow tracked them the entire way.

The pyramid knew they were here. There was no point in hiding.

For a long time they had been silent. They had held hands, leaned close to each other, occasionally kissed.

“Ishbel —”

“Don’t say it, Maxel.”

“Ishbel, you found the unwinding of the Weeper difficult. What you face here is so infinitely worse.”

“I don’t have Ravenna here to try and murder me on the way in.”

“What you do have is —”

“Infinitely worse, I know. But I have more power now and, I think, a few more friends. And this guardian, about whom Avaldamon is so mysterious.”

“Likely because he has no bloody idea.”

Ishbel laughed. “Likely. But still, this needs to be done, Maxel. The pyramid must die, if this world is to survive in anything resembling freedom. We need to be rid of it.”

Maximilian sighed. “Ishbel —”

“Shush,” she said, and leaned over to kiss him lingeringly. “Shush. Wait here for me among the reeds, and believe, and I will return.”

The One strode toward DarkGlass Mountain. He was not far away now, but he feared even that short distance might be too great.

Elcho Falling was at DarkGlass Mountain.

“I am going to eat you!” he whispered, increasing yet again both the rate and length of his step until he was jogging in long, thundering strides.

The One was half the height of DarkGlass Mountain itself, and growing a hand’s-breadth with every pace.

Ishbel walked across the glass river, her strides slow but sure. The light breeze lifted her loosened fair hair and twisted her long skirts about her legs, but Ishbel paid no mind.

Her eyes were fixed on the pyramid.

It took her until almost full dark to walk along the causeway to the pyramid, and in that time light started to flash and fork underneath its glass skin. The static electricity raised goosebumps on Ishbel’s arms, but she did not hesitate, nor lower her eyes from DarkGlass Mountain.

She was concentrating, very hard, on something the Goblet of the Frogs had told her.

Glass is liquid.

Glass is liquid. As she drew to within twenty paces of its eastern wall, the pyramid looming and throbbing high over her, Ishbel began a great unwinding.

Pace after pace she drew closer, then, ignoring the gaping black hole of the door she and Isaiah had once used to enter, and without any hesitation, Ishbel walked straight into the glass wall.

And vanished.

The One broke into a run, his mighty arms pumping at his sides, his eyes fixed on the horizon, over which, just over, lay his purpose.

Now invaded by that witch .

Ishbel took a deep breath, feeling herself merge with both stone and glass, and then she was in the Infinity Chamber.

She blinked. It was lit, but not from any internal light. Instead, she found herself looking at a large rat, holding up a candle.

It was sitting on a very large book that looked as though it had recently been scorched with fire.

Hello, the rat said.

Ishbel considered that. She had not heard the rat, either with her ears or her mind voice. The greeting simply “was”.

“Hello,” she said. “Who are you?”

I am your courage.

Ishbel frowned a little.

When Josia died, it took many hours for him to pass. It took enormous courage for him to endure. Magnificent courage. Too good to be wasted. I was the one who took his life and with it I took his courage. Now it is yours.

That was something Ishbel knew she’d need to spend a little time thinking about later, if she were fortunate enough to enjoy a “later”. But for now she let it go. “Is that the Book of the Soulenai?”

Yes. It has been waiting for you as well. Would you like to read it?

“I think I should.”

Ishbel moved toward the rat and the book, glancing about her as she went. The candlelight glimmered off the golden glass and Ishbel thought the glass was moving, almost as water, but she was not sure.

For now, the book.

Ishbel knelt down, and the rat moved to one side, helpfully holding up the candle.

Ishbel turned the cover, then the first few blank, creamy pages until she came to an index page.

It contained a list of stories.

The tale of the Magus Ta’uz and his lover Raguel.

The tale of Druse and of how he was turned to stone and then crumbled into the river.

The tale of the little girl, Ishbel, and how she was burned alive in her family house when it was overcome by pestilence.

Ishbel drew in a sharp breath, and her fingers trembled where they rested on the page. Then she read on.

The tale of all those murdered by the pyramid’s malice.

The tale of how they shall all aid you, Tirzah’s child, to murder Threshold.

The rat used its spare forepaw to touch Ishbel’s arm gently.

The One comes, he said.

Maximilian stood on the river bank, staring at DarkGlass Mountain. It still throbbed and sparked with light.

What was happening to Ishbel inside?

He was undecided whether to go to her or not. Surely he could help her . . . surely he could provide some assistance, surely . . .

His head jerked to the north. The ground beneath him had started to shake, as if by the footfalls of a giant’s feet.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

“Oh merciful gods!” Maximilian said, looking on with absolute horror as the enormous form of the One appeared, quite suddenly, out of the darkness.

He was flailing his arms in a windmill motion, as if to propel himself forward, and he was running straight for DarkGlass Mountain.

Without any hesitation, and before Maximilian could even think about what action to take, let alone enact, the One ran straight into the side of DarkGlass Mountain and vanished without trace.