Maximilian jerked awake. Above his head the stars whirled through the velvet blackness of the sky, beside him Ishbel lay warm and completely relaxed in sleep. Behind him, at the tiller, Maximilian could hear Avaldamon draw in a deep breath, then resettle his weight.

This would be their last night in the boat. Tomorrow they should reach that part of the Lhyl where they would abandon the water for the long trek eastward toward the coast and, hopefully, a waiting vessel to take them back north to Elcho Falling.

Maximilian lay, staring at the stars. He’d had the dream again, drawn into the Otherworld by someone’s desperate need to speak to him.

Yet still he did not know who, or, more worryingly, what was so important that Maximilian was being drawn into the Otherworld to discover it.

He was wide awake now, with no hope of slipping back into sleep for the remainder of the night. Maximilian drew in a small sigh, letting it out silently, not wanting to alert Avaldamon to his wakefulness, then closed his eyes, and travelled the eighty-six steps to the door of the Twisted Tower.

Perhaps Josia might have some clue.

“It has been a long time, Maxel,” Josia said as Maximilian opened the door and entered the tower. “I had thought you to have forgotten me.”

Maximilian tipped his head in apology. “I am sorry, Josia. To be honest, I have been enjoying the first relaxing period of time since . . . gods alone know when. Just drifting northward in our small riverboat, with nothing to occupy me save drawing Ishbel close at night and watching the countryside drift past during the daylight hours, has been refreshing. What news from Axis and all at Elcho Falling?” “Ah, well, Axis has left Elcho Falling. He —”

“What?”

“You should have come sooner, Maxel. Yes, Axis and Inardle have left Elcho Falling on some foolhardy mission to save Isaiah from the Skraeling advance. I do not know the full details.” Josia turned about, fiddling with an item on one of the crowded tables. “Georgdi is left in charge of Elcho Falling. I do not like him as well as Axis.”

Maximilian chewed his lip, wishing desperately that Axis had not left Elcho Falling. Georgdi was a good man, but . . . “Any other news?”

Josia turned back to face him. “The Lealfast Nation have arrived at Elcho Falling, and have taken up their residence in Armat’s old camp. Kezial and some sixty thousand men have now allied with Eleanon, who leads the Lealfast. Elcho Falling lies under tight siege.”

So much for his unworried days, Maximilian thought. He’d spend the rest of the time before he reached Elcho Falling in a state of sick anxiety.

“Any news of Ravenna?” he asked, and Josia shook his head.

“I have not noticed her,” he said.

Maximilian sighed. “Well, that at least is some good news.”

“What brings you here now, Maxel?”

Maximilian perched on the end of one of the tables. “I have been having dreams.”

“Dreams?”

Maximilian told Josia about his dreams of the Otherworld, of his sense that someone wanted to meet with him quite desperately. “Avaldamon says it must be important, that someone needs to tell me something, warn me of something, very badly.”

“Ah,” Josia waved a hand dismissively. “It is likely little more than a remnant of the time you spent dead, Maxel. How many hours was that? Two? Three? You hovered at the very border of the Otherworld until Ishbel pulled you back. I think the dreams are little more than that. Just a shadow of the time you began the journey.”

“You think? If so that would be a relief.”

“Maxel, I am glad that you found the time to visit with me tonight. I need to see both you and Ishbel urgently.”

“Why?”

“You are about to set off on your journey eastward?”

Maximilian nodded.

“Then you will come across Hairekeep.”

“Yes,” Maximilian said. “The fort sits just beneath the southern approaches to the Salamaan Pass. We’ll pass by it on our way to the ports of the eastern coast of Isembaard.”

“Hairekeep is stuffed full of Isembaardians, Maxel. You and Ishbel can rescue them. It will be something you can do for this land. I have been watching the fort from the window atop this tower. I can see it, and I think I know how you can free those trapped inside.”

Maximilian nodded. “Does Ishbel need to be involved? I feared for her so much in DarkGlass Mountain.”

“This task will need both you and Ishbel. Both of you to unwind the One’s power and release the tortured souls from their imprisonment. Bring Ishbel back with you the next time you visit and make it soon. I will explain more then.”

“And the One? Avaldamon postulates, and Ishbel and I are inclined to believe him, that the One was not destroyed during the obliteration of DarkGlass Mountain, but escaped elsewhere. Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”

“I agree, Maxel. The One is too powerful to have been killed by Ishbel. But as to the where . . . I have no idea. I am sorry.”