Isaiah thought that if there was one thing he’d change in his long existence, it would have been not to have made that foolhardy decision to create the mayhem. Maybe it had worked some good, but mostly it drew havoc down on the people he had least intended — his own army.

About three-quarters of the army finally made their way inside Elcho Falling after hours of tempest. The other quarter were dead or blown away. Isaiah was the last to enter the citadel, clinging to one side of the entrance arch, peering back into the catastrophic storm, trying to see if there was anyone left alive still to come in.

He couldn’t see a thing apart from the blanket of pink juit birds swelling up and down on the lake’s surface. They, at least, looked intact, and Isaiah hoped that Axis, too, was safe in their midst. For a moment he thought about calling out for Axis, suggesting that he abandon his plan and head inside Elcho Falling for safety, but Isaiah doubted he could make either his physical voice or his mental one strong enough to penetrate the mayhem.

He felt something tug on the sleeve of his jerkin and he turned his head.

Georgdi was there, gesturing frantically.

Isaiah sighed and stepped inside Elcho Falling.

Georgdi had the gates shut the instant Isaiah was in.

The sudden silence was astonishing. Isaiah had to stand, blinking, trying to make sense of the absence of the screaming of the wind or the driving of the rain. The initial chamber of Elcho Falling, the columned ground floor, was full of men wet to the bone, dripping both blood and water, and sitting slumped against columns or standing about in dispirited groups.

“We are taking them to their quarters as fast as we are able,” Georgdi said to one side, “and feeding them once they are there. Elcho Falling has provided clothes and warmth for them.”

Isaiah nodded, unable for the moment to speak.

“What happened to those who didn’t make it?” Georgdi said, and Isaiah gave the man a bleak look.

Stupid question.

“Isaiah,” Georgdi said quietly, “what happened with Josia the other day? What was going on?”

“Josia was the One,” Isaiah said. “Maximilian needed him distracted while he isolated him within the Twisted Tower. Maximilian —”

“Axis?” a voice called. “Axis?”

“Oh gods,” Isaiah murmured as StarDrifter came striding over.

“Where is my son?” StarDrifter said, glaring at Isaiah as if Isaiah had left him outside intentionally.

“Did no one tell you?” Isaiah said. “Oh, well, Axis decided to stay outside. He thought it better that —”

“Outside in that?” StarDrifter said.

“Yes, outside in that,” Isaiah responded, trying to remember if he had ever liked Axis’ father or not. It was all so long ago, and far too wearying to stretch his mind back. “He is safe enough, StarDrifter.”

“I’ll take you to your chamber,” Georgdi said to Isaiah. “Rest a while, eat. Then we can talk.”

“I —” Isaiah began.

“And I suppose that witch woman has stayed out there with him,” StarDrifter said.

It took a long moment for Isaiah to work out what StarDrifter meant. “Inardle? She isn’t in Elcho Falling?”

“No one has seen her,” Georgdi said. “Only men have come in.”

“There was another woman,” Isaiah said. “Hereward. Thin, dark hair .”

Georgdi shook his head.

“Shetzah,” Isaiah muttered. Had they both been lost?

“Come,” Georgdi said, and Isaiah allowed the man to lead him away, leaving StarDrifter standing glaring at the closed gates.

Outside, the mayhem finally began to abate.

Ravenna stood among the crowd of sodden, exhausted men within the ground floor chamber. She remembered coming here with a thousand or so of Armat’s men, surprising Maximilian, and she looked to the curving staircase almost expecting to see Maximilian in that spot again.

But of course he wasn’t here, now.

Men moved about her, but none acknowledged her. She tried speaking, she even shouted, but none paid her any attention. Their eyes slid over her, their consciousnesses refusing to acknowledge her.

Eleanon had reworked Ishbel’s curse well.

Ravenna wrapped her arms about herself, shivering. She was cold and hungry and every joint ached.

As for her belly .

She didn’t cry. Ravenna had cried so much over the past days and weeks that she didn’t think she could ever cry again. She hated herself that she had trapped her son in this nightmare, too. All she wanted for him was life, and a happy one at that, but what had she managed? To trap him in this dismal existence . . . Gods knew what would become of him, or if he would survive what was to come.

All her fault .

How had she come to this?

“Reckless ambition,” she murmured. “And stupidity. And of the two, the stupidity has been my worst enemy.”

She wished for a moment that her mother were here. But she had killed Venetia, hadn’t she? Killed her own mother.

Ravenna turned away, leaned into one of the beautiful columns, and wept yet again.

Outside, Axis wiped his eyes of water. The mayhem had vanished almost as abruptly as it had seemingly arrived. Around him the juit birds were slowly untangling their legs, pulling their heads out from under wings and blinking their pale eyes.

“I thank you for your shelter,” Axis said, and those birds closest to him nodded in acknowledgement — graceful, grave bobbings of their head.

Very slowly, Axis began to swim through the birds, apologising as he went.

He had a long way to go before the Lealfast made their reappearance.

Inardle woke slowly, aware of little else save the terrible pain in her back and shoulders where Eleanon had gripped her. She tried to move, grateful that at least her legs responded (stars, she had been sure Eleanon had severed her spine), but discovered she was restrained by something binding her tight.

She felt about with her hands — it was too dark to see — and her breath caught as she realised she’d been imprisoned in an ice ball. She was lying on her side, curled up, her wings wrapped about her, her legs drawn tight to her body, and she could extend none of her limbs save for the tiniest amount.

Inardle went cold, due not so much to the nature of her prison but to her utter shock.

Eleanon had imprisoned her within an ice hex.

There was no way to escape.

Ever.

The ice hex was unbreakable.

She would die here. Slowly. Of starvation and despair.

Isaiah had only had time to strip off his wet clothing and sink down to the bed of his chamber, when there was a knock at the door.

It opened. Insharah stood there and behind him, almost unbelievably to Isaiah, stood Kezial.

“Well met again, Insharah,” Isaiah said. “You have been having adventures since last I saw you.”

Insharah had the grace to flush slightly as Isaiah obliquely referred to Insharah’s betrayal of Maximilian and Axis by deserting to Armat.

“And you, Kezial,” Isaiah said.

“The time for apologies has long passed,” Kezial said. “Besides, you wanted me in here.”

Isaiah tipped his head in acknowledgement.

“I bring news of Eleanon,” Kezial said.

“Perhaps we need to call Georgdi and —” Isaiah said.

“It can’t wait,” said Insharah. “Kezial, tell him.”

“Eleanon’s plan was to allow everyone into Elcho Falling anyway,” Kezial said. “He plans on destroying Elcho Falling.”

“How?” Isaiah said, now standing and pulling on fresh clothes.

“He has a dark spire deep within the citadel —” Kezial began.

“We know of that,” Insharah interrupted, explaining to Isaiah.

“And he has inserted Ravenna into Elcho Falling in order to —” Kezial continued.

“How?” Isaiah said, ignoring Kezial’s wince of irritation at being interrupted yet again.

“How did he insert her?” Kezial said. “Undoubtedly during the chaos and confusion when your delightful little storm hit. She is in Elcho Falling now, Isaiah. Somewhere. Disguised. She will destroy this citadel and all within it.”

“Call the other commanders,” Isaiah snapped to Insharah, “and show me to whatever command chamber you have here while you’re at it.”