The One was completely unaware of the battle and weather raging about Elcho Falling. He stood at the window in the top chamber of the Twisted Tower, his form once more that of a glass man, which form he had constructed from the glass objects within the tower. One hand rested on the window frame, one foot on the low sill, and his other hand extended very slightly in front of his body.

The One’s eyes were closed and his body relaxed despite its somewhat awkward pose.

He was seeking the one being he thought he might still have a chance of contacting within Maximilian’s world.

The Dark Spire.

The One was Infinity; it was the very fabric of his being. The Dark Spire, too, had been woven from strands of Infinity.

There must still be connection between him and it, somewhere.

But, oh, the One had to be careful. Doubtless, Maximilian and Ishbel, and probably even Eleanon, were all congratulating themselves on their sudden freedom from the One. If he did manage to contact the Dark Spire, the One did not want any of them to know of it.

No one.

Not this time.

This time the One was going to take no risk at all.

Every particle of his being was concentrated on this task, although a watcher would not know it from his easy stance. His senses wandered through Infinity, looking for that single strand that would connect him to the Dark Spire. It would be here, somewhere. He just had to find it. Patience. Patience.

Within the confines of the Twisted Tower, lost in those dark spaces between eternity and Infinity, a millennium passed, and still the One did not move.

Then, he found it. A single gossamer strand, a filament so thin and nebulous it almost did not exist, but nevertheless it was there.

The hand the One held slightly extended from his body twitched then grasped, and the One’s eyes flew open.

They were black, wide, staring, and stars revolved within their depths.

Slowly the One drew his hand toward his belly until it connected with the slight depression that passed for a navel in his glassy flesh.

A moment passed, then the One laughed, soft and triumphant, as the strand connecting him to the Dark Spire materialised as a silvery umbilical cord stretching from the One’s belly and out the window of the Twisted Tower until it vanished in the vast emptiness of space and Infinity beyond.

The One felt the soft touch of the existence of the Dark Spire within his flesh. Oh, it was so far away, so far, but the gossamer thread was real enough, and the connection strong enough, for what he needed.

A smile suddenly appearing on his face, the One grasped the gossamer thread between his hands and, without hesitation, stepped through the window of the Twisted Tower into the void.

StarDancer slept peacefully in his mother’s bed. His parents, StarDrifter and Salome, had kept him largely shielded from the events and worries of the rest of Elcho Falling and StarDancer spent his nights and days in gentle contemplation of the intricacies of the Star Dance, and little else. It might have seemed strange that the baby could sleep so solidly through the battle and tempest that raged outside, but, despite his extraordinary Enchanter abilities, StarDancer did sleep solidly for he was still a baby and sleep could conquer most babies, even under extreme circumstances.

StarDancer rarely dreamed in his sleep or, if he did, it was of pleasant things, such as his father’s enchanted singing or the soft comfort of his mother’s breast.

But in this sleep, something reached out and grazed StarDancer’s mind . . . as though something had brushed past him in the midst of his unconsciousness.

He stirred in his sleep, unnoticed by Salome, who stood at the window of the chamber, staring at the events unfolding below.

He dreamed of a man, climbing up a rope arm over arm, body twisting beneath him as he climbed.

Below the man, darkness bulged and bubbled as if it were reaching for the man, or perhaps as if it was angry the man had escaped.

StarDancer felt unceasing threat from this man and, worse, he thought the man had realised his presence. He fought to free himself from the dream, but for long moments could not and in those long moments felt the man’s eyes move about and settle slowly on him.

He awoke, suddenly, as someone who has had cold water dashed in their face. For a long moment he lay still, shaken by his dream vision and the threat that had emanated from the man, then he moved his head and saw his mother turn about in awareness of his wakefulness.

Salome came over, picked him up and cuddled him close, and in his delight at her love, StarDancer pushed to one side the fading memory of the dream. He was safe, now.