“When?” Kezial said, curtly. He sat his horse on a small rise to the west of the battle. Eleanon was standing to one side, his gaze fixed on the fighting. Wind from the approaching mayhem whipped about them, making the horse skittish and raising goosebumps on Kezial’s flesh.

“Soon,” Eleanon said, the feathers on his wings rippling in wild patterns in the wind.

Kezial bit back his frustration. He wanted to order his men in — if not for quite the same reason Eleanon might want to order them in.

He took a deep breath, concentrating on the battle.

Isaiah’s army had marched forward just after dawn, to be instantly attacked by the Lealfast. They’d been at it for half an hour now . . . and mostly the tide was turning in the Lealfast’s favour. While not many of Isaiah’s soldiers had fallen, they were pinned to the ground, shields in defensive array over their heads as the Lealfast attacked from above.

“That storm looks vicious,” Kezial observed.

Eleanon shot him an amused glance. “Attack, then,” he said.

Kezial hesitated a moment, staring at Eleanon, then he kicked his horse forward, signalling to his army. It began moving immediately.

Eleanon watched for a while, until Kezial’s men were almost ready to join in the battle, then he sent a pre-arranged signal to the Lealfast.

They would keep attacking Isaiah’s army for another ten minutes or so, then they had the freedom to attack anything and anyone they wanted.

Including Kezial and his men.

Eleanon smiled to himself, then his form frosted, iced over, and vanished completely.

All that was left on that windy hilltop was Eleanon’s final whisper.

Ravenna.

Axis was crouched down, buffeted by bodies, under a cover of shields raised over the unit of men he was with. A constant rain of arrows drummed down on the shield cover; no one underneath could do much save crouch and wait. But the Lealfast were doing nothing more than keeping everyone pinned underneath the shields. Axis knew that Eleanon had other abilities and strategies . . . if this was all the Lealfast were going to do then maybe this was just going to be a play-acting battle, after all.

And if it were play-acting, then why? Why?

It was dim underneath the cover of shields, the light cut by the close-pressed bodies, the shields, and the approaching mayhem. Axis relied on vision sent by the eagle circling high overhead to learn what happened in the vicinity.

The mayhem was now very, very close, and the eagle was concerned. Axis knew he would stay only a few more minutes before wheeling off to seek shelter. Axis took the opportunity to have a quick look over the scene far below the eagle — Kezial was now pushing his army toward this! — then broke off the vision.

Go friend eagle, he said. Save yourself from Isaiah’s mayhem.

I wish you well, the eagle said, and then he was gone.

Isaiah, Axis said.

He felt Isaiah twist his consciousness toward Axis, but he did not respond in words.

When will you use the juit birds? Axis said.

It is time now, Isaiah said, the mayhem is almost upon us. I will delay no longer. Be ready.

Kezial is on his way.

I know. Be ready, Axis.

Then contact with Isaiah was broken and Axis looked about him at the men of his unit.

“Be ready,” he said. “This infernal drumming of arrows will shortly, I pray to all gods, be replaced with the drumming of bodies.”

Now, whispered Isaiah.

Axis heard it, felt it, even over the sound of the arrows thudding into the shield cover. A sudden pressure in the air, literally making everyone in his unit sway and stumble slightly, then the beat of millions upon millions of wings.

He waited, counting under his breath for no other reason than it gave him something to do, then, shockingly, even though he’d been expecting it, the sound of bodies falling from the air.

The shield cover broke under their weight, but the need for the shield cover was now gone.

“Attack!” Axis cried. “Attack!”

He twisted about, drawing his sword, and plunged it into the Lealfast who lay stunned and injured on the ground.

Another hit behind him, and he swivelled about, and his sword flashed again.

All about Axis the Isembaardians were taking out the birdmen who fell stunned to the ground, and Axis halted a moment, waiting for the next Lealfast to drop from the sky.

He looked up and saw a sky covered with pink. The birds had done nothing but risen straight through the overhead Lealfast fighters. There were so many millions of the juit birds that they had filled the sky, creating such havoc and turmoil they had pushed the Lealfast out of the air.

Axis heard a sound, and it took him a moment to realise what it was.

He was laughing.

Far back, toward the rear guard, Inardle and Hereward sat their horses, watching fearfully. Isaiah had left the entire encampment behind, all the tents, the equipment, the storage wagons, and the two women had taken to horseback and hovered within the rear units, awaiting their chance to dash into Elcho Falling.

Inardle glanced at Hereward. The woman was scared, but courageous with it. The two women exchanged a glance, then Inardle looked toward the approaching storm. She did not know what it was, but knew it was a created magic.

Isaiah, most likely, although Inardle would not have put it past Eleanon, either.

Whoever, they had conjured up a monster. Inardle had no idea how anyone was going to survive if it hit before they had reached shelter.

She didn’t know what to do. She had wanted to take to the air and flee, but any one among the Lealfast would have shot her down. She wasn’t sure why they hadn’t already, to be honest. Stars alone knew she must stick out like a sore thumb sitting in the back lines on this skittery horse.

The Lealfast had pinned down most of Isaiah’s army under shield cover. As she didn’t know why the Lealfast hadn’t attacked her yet, Inardle also didn’t know why Eleanon hadn’t ordered his fighters to do more than just pummel the army with arrows. Eleanon, as the entire Lealfast, commanded so much magic after their union with the power of Infinity . . . surely they could have broken apart that pitiful shield cover . . .

She gasped aloud when the juit birds rose into the air. It was beautiful, magical and horrifying all at once. No one in the air above them had a chance of avoiding their inexorable rise.

The juit birds were such a solid mass, rising directly upward .

Inardle winced when they hit the Lealfast.

Then Hereward cried out. “Inardle! Kezial’s men!”

Inardle looked.

Kezial’s army had joined with Isaiah’s on its western flank.

The two Isembaardian armies clashed in a spark and ring of swords . . . and almost no deaths, let alone injuries.

At that line where the two armies met, Isembaardians who owed their allegiance to Kezial leaned in to their countrymen who owed their loyalty to Isaiah and whispered in harsh, breathless tones, “We wish to join with you, not fight you!”

To be met with the inevitable chuckle and response, “And we have been told to welcome you, and invite you into Elcho Falling. Here now, wave that sword about a bit. You don’t want that Lealfast lord to think you’re deserting, do you?”

And so, up and down that western line of fighting, men grunted and groaned and clashed swords in desperate battle, and every so often one would fall and roll under the feet of his neighbours.

But, strangely, there was no blood.

Eleanon strode back and forth on the shores of the lake, well back from the fighting. He had just called the Lealfast back — those that were still capable — and now the air overhead was thick with Lealfast streaming toward the mountains where the rest of the Nation waited.

Eleanon was furious, almost incandescent. He should have foreseen this and he hadn’t. Just the simple fact of all those birds rising at the same time .

“Fuck you, Isaiah,” Eleanon muttered. “You may smile today, but tomorrow you will pay.”

Or perhaps even sooner. Eleanon glanced once more at the mayhem. It was very close now, only minutes away. Already the wind was whipping the waters of the lake and the feathers of Eleanon’s wings into violent whorls and eddies. Lightning forked through the roiling clouds.

“You have overplayed your hand there, my friend,” Eleanon muttered. “The birds were enough. No Lealfast was ever going to hang around long enough to be buffeted by that. But you . . . oh, you my friend .”

Eleanon grinned, then it died. He still had one or two things to take care of here, before he, too, could escape.

Axis looked up. The mayhem was now virtually upon them, and all about juit birds were settling back onto the lake water, tucking their heads under their tightly folded wings and curling their bodies into tight pink balls, huddled close together on the water, their long, long legs dangling deep into the lake, acting as stabilisers.

If Axis didn’t move now, he would lose his chance.

Again he risked a look about him. The fighting had all but stopped, and he could see Isaiah in the distance, rousing the men, urging them to flee to the gates.

Axis glanced that way.

They were open, and Axis could see someone gesturing wildly: Georgdi, possibly, although now that the rain was starting to drive down it was difficult to tell.

“Good luck!” Axis shouted at those men about him close enough to hear, then he ran as hard as he could for the lake and dived in.

Isaiah’s army, now merged with that of Kezial’s, surged toward the gates of Elcho Falling. Tens of thousands of men milled about on the shoreline leading to the causeway, thick with fleeing men.

Then, in an almighty and terrifying clap of thunder, the mayhem hit. Men, horses, anything not tied down were bowled over in the tempest. Rain drove down, and intermingled with it were tiny spears of ice that, if they struck a body at the wrong angle, drove deep inside the flesh. Wind shrieked, rendering hearing and voice useless.

Anyone still on their feet could only crouch down and stumble forward, hand on the shoulder or back of whoever it was in front of him.

No one could see a thing.

It suited Eleanon perfectly.

He, like everyone else, was buffeted and pummelled. But, unlike most others, he also had considerable power and resources at his disposal and it was enough to keep him on his feet and still capable of independent movement and action.

He moved toward the gigantic mass of men struggling frantically to get inside Elcho Falling.

It was bleak, darkest night now, hail and ice raining about, yet still Eleanon laughed. He reached the outer edge of the great struggling mass, steadied himself, then reached about behind him and grabbed the woman he’d been dragging all this way.

Ravenna.

Go now, Eleanon whispered in her mind, his voice as cruel as the ice splintering down from the sky. Go now and work my will within Elcho Falling. Go!

Then, without waiting for any answer, he unceremoniously pushed her into the mass of men fighting for entrance into the citadel.

At the same time he activated the enchantment he’d worked on her earlier, making her invisible.

Just until she’d done her task.

Axis had sunk deep into the waters of the lake. He’d risen quickly, but had then to fight his way through the tightly packed bodies of the juit birds in order to get his head above water.

He’d thought he wasn’t going to make it and it was only at the very last moment, when his lungs were on fire, that he’d managed to wedge his head between two juit birds and gasp desperately for air.

He couldn’t see much, but what he could appalled him.

Rain and ice and forks of lightning speared down from the sky. All about, wind howled in great vortexes of destruction. Axis realised that he was actually in one of the most sheltered spots he could possibly be: the bodies of the juit birds protected his head from the worst of the tempest, while the fact that their heavy and tightly packed bodies covered the entire surface of the lake kept it reasonably still.

Axis could see shapes that he assumed were men huddling for shelter on the shoreline, but apart from that . . . nothing.

“Good work, Isaiah,” Axis muttered sarcastically, then apologised to the birds on either side of him as he grabbed a leg in each hand to stabilise himself further.

The birds took no notice of him.

Inardle and Hereward had borne the full force of the mayhem. They’d both been blown off their horses, and by sheer luck Inardle had managed to grab Hereward’s ankle before she was blown away completely.

Inardle had the strength of the Icarii and the blizzard endurance of the Skraelings. With one hand she gripped Hereward’s ankle, and with the other she pulled herself up the woman’s body until she was able to shelter her with her own body and wings.

“Just stay low!” Inardle hissed into Hereward’s ear. “We can’t move from this spot until after the storm has —”

Inardle stopped suddenly.

Something icy and agonising had just sliced into her lower spine.

She let out a low moan that was instantly whipped away in the wind.

“Inardle?” she heard Hereward say, and she felt the woman’s body twist under hers so Hereward could look Inardle in the face.

Inardle didn’t care. She was aware of little save the splintering fingers digging into her spine.

Hello, sister, Eleanon’s voice said in her mind. Did you think I’d ever forget you?

Inardle screamed. Eleanon’s fingers had somehow managed to dig themselves into her back, then wrap themselves tightly about her spine, crushing it.

“Inardle?” Hereward shouted, unable to understand what was happening.

“Oh, shut up,” Eleanon said, and materialised long enough to dig his other hand into Hereward’s throat, bursting apart the scar the One had left.

Blood spurted forth again. Hereward, her arms and hands trapped under Inardle’s body, could do nothing.

I have a little spot prepared for you, sister, Eleanon said into Inardle’s mind, and then she was screaming helplessly as Eleanon lifted her by her spine into the heart of the mayhem.

Below, Hereward reached for her throat, but before she could wrap her hands about the spurting wound, the wind caught her and she was rolled over and over along the ground, leaving it soaked in her blood as she went.

By the time her body rolled to a stop, she was dead.