Maximilian and Ishbel sat sifting through the floor by floor plans of the Twisted Tower. They had stayed up all night, save for two brief rests, and were now exhausted, but they had only five more levels to go.

Maximilian reached down a hand to lift up one of the diagrams, then swore softly as a vibration sent it skittering just beyond finger reach.

The Lealfast had started the second day of their encircling rhythmic march not an hour ago.

Ishbel looked at him. Her eyes were hollow and ringed with fatigue, her skin drawn and grey. Maximilian lifted the hand he’d tried to use to pick up a diagram and cupped her face.

“We are almost done,” he said.

“Maxel . . . the Lealfast are going to dismember Elcho Falling if we don’t find a way to break the power of the Dark Spire.”

“I know. Ishbel, be still. We will finish these last five levels and then we will rest.”

“But —”

“We will rest, Ishbel. Elcho Falling will not fall today.”

Ishbel pressed her cheek against his hand briefly. “We have reconstructed the objects in eighty-five levels of the Twisted Tower, Maxel. There is nothing yet to help us against the Dark Spire or the One. What hope we find something on the final five levels?”

“Ishbel —”

“The Dark Spire is nothing our forebears could have anticipated, Maxel. We are going to find nothing. We have spent useless days here making lists, and for what? For what?”

“Ishbel .”

She rose, walking away. “There is nothing we can do. Nothing at all.”

Maximilian watched her walk away. There was one last thing they could do before they had to turn their minds to what StarDancer suggested. “Ishbel?”

She had halted by a chest. Now she turned slowly to look back at Maximilian.

“There is one person who has successfully countered the power of Infinity,” Maximilian said.

Ishbel frowned briefly, then her face cleared. “Boaz,” she said, naming her ancestor. “But he encountered nothing like the power of the One.”

“Nonetheless .”

“Nonetheless, it is worth a try.”