Inardle sat in the grass about a half day’s walk from Elcho Falling. She could clearly see it in the distance and could just pick out the circles of the Lealfast Nation around the lake.

She had no idea what Eleanon was doing, but she did know he was making it extremely difficult for her to return to the citadel.

Any one of those Lealfast would spot her, even in her River Angel form, if she tried to access the lake.

Inardle could have tried to reach Axis with her mind voice, but she was afraid Eleanon would pick up the communication.

Eleanon was too attuned to Inardle for Inardle’s own safety.

So Inardle sat there, chin resting on her arms wrapped about her knees. Chewing her lip, wondering.

Just after noon, she saw a shepherd and his flock of sheep passing in the near distance.

Nine of the Enchanters had died. The others were injured to some extent, but Garth expected them all to survive.

He drew Axis back from StarDrifter’s bed, where an anxious Salome hovered, and spoke with Axis quietly.

“His eardrums have been damaged and also his eyes. Not permanent in either case, but your father is going to need rest and quiet for some time. As do the other Enchanters.”

Axis nodded his thanks, appreciating Garth’s aid and words. Then he turned away, leaving the chamber. He was furiously angry. Partly at circumstance, but mostly at himself for having suggested this catastrophic plan.

Damn it! Was there no action they could take against Eleanon? Everything he or Isaiah tried was thrown back in their faces with deadly, contemptuous ease.

Axis paused outside his father’s door, then slowly climbed the stairs toward the command chamber.

All about him Elcho Falling vibrated and cracked.

Axis thought about asking Maximilian one more time about the transference idea.

Eleanon stopped the beating of his hands before dusk and, as they had the previous day, the Lealfast filed back to their individual camps for the night. Eleanon was himself about to return to his tent when he saw, to the west, a shepherd driving his small flock of sheep toward the lake.

Eleanon frowned, for there were few passers-by at Elcho Falling, and he moved to intercept the man.

He was clearly frightened and fell to his knees before Eleanon.

“Please, my lord,” the man said, “my sheep need to water and I saw this lake . . . ”

Eleanon regarded him, trying to scry out any deception, but all he felt was sheer fright from the man.

Ah, he was but a common shepherd, and when Eleanon was Lord of Elcho Falling, he would be a generous lord.

“You may water your flock,” Eleanon said, “but be quick about the business.” As soon as he had finished speaking Eleanon turned away as another Lealfast called him urgently.

The shepherd stammered his thanks, immensely grateful that Eleanon was distracted and moving off. He rose to his feet, clicking his tongue at the sheep who followed him obediently.

The shepherd moved his flock to a spot halfway between two of the Lealfast camps, and the sheep lined the shore, some falling to their knees in order to drink. The shepherd unclipped the drinking flask he had at his belt, unstoppered it, and leaned down to the water.

Inardle flowed out of the flask and into the water, silently thanking the shepherd — who was truly nothing like the stammering fool he’d appeared to Eleanon, but rather a courageous Outlander keen to aid Georgdi and the Lord of Elcho Falling.

She moved swiftly, anxious to escape any detection, sliding through the calm waters about the southern walls of Elcho Falling. Her way was clear for the moment, but Inardle wondered how long it would remain that way: the black roots of the Dark Spire now filled almost the entire lower half of the lake, lying there coiled and waiting.

Inardle reached the entrance to the tunnel and moved up it, only to find that partway through, her progress was hindered by debris.

Nonetheless, there were tiny spaces between the rocks and masonry that had fallen when the Dark Spire had pushed its way through this chamber in its journey upward, and Inardle managed to find her way through.

When she emerged into what was left of the chamber that had held the pool, it was to find the space almost filled with the bulk of the Dark Spire.

Inardle stood still a moment, once more in her Lealfast form, pressed against the wall, the spire not an arm’s length distance from her.

The spire was looking more and more like Elcho Falling, with clearly defined windows and doors, and many balconies and turrets.

Axis sensed Inardle the instant she’d moved past the Dark Spire. He was in the command chamber with Isaiah and Maximilian — Maximilian had been telling them how he and Ishbel meant to untether the Twisted Tower — when he jumped up from his seat.

“Inardle is back,” he said, then he was out the chamber and running down the stairs to meet her.

“You’re back,” he said.

She grinned. “Obviously.”

“What news?”

“Not much . . . but I need to tell it. Is Maximilian . . . ?”

“In the command chamber. Come.”

They started to climb, Inardle looking about. “Axis? What has been happening? Elcho Falling looks as though a rampaging army has been through it. And what has Eleanon been doing outside?”

Axis sighed, and told her all the dire happenings since she’d been gone.

It was a heavy weight of bad news for someone who had only been gone a relatively short while.

“I hope your news is better,” Axis finished up, opening the door into the command chamber for her.

Inardle didn’t reply.

She walked into the chamber, greeting Isaiah and Maximilian, shocked at how tired they all looked. She’d thought Axis had looked terrible, but Maximilian particularly looked as though he’d spent the past few days fighting demons.

“The Skraelings?” Isaiah said as they all seated themselves.

“They are not far south of here,” Inardle said. “Isaiah, they are becoming beautiful. I can describe it no other way. They are losing their vile, frightful appearance and they are becoming beautiful.”

She paused. “And thoughtful.”

Isaiah gave a small smile. “That is good news. It means they are moving in the right direction mentally. Did they tell you what decision they are likely to make?”

“They knew I had changed into River Angel form. They questioned me closely. They wanted to know if I had murdered as a River Angel.”

“Ah,” Isaiah said, knowing that she had.

“I explained to them why,” Inardle said, “that it was justified, but they were deeply unhappy. Disappointed in me, and even themselves, so it seemed.”

“And then?” Isaiah said.

Inardle shrugged. “Then they just vanished. I did not see them again.”

“What do you think is happening, Isaiah?” Maximilian asked.

“They’re already changing,” Isaiah said. “The process has begun. They need to drown themselves to completely change back to River Angels, but they’re on their way.”

“Which means .” Axis said.

“Which means they will be driven to come here,” Isaiah said.

“But they seemed so disappointed in me,” Inardle said.

“As they were,” said Isaiah. “You had killed, and that saddened them. But think . . . these were once Skraelings, but are now creatures who are disappointed at one who kills. That gives me hope.”

Isaiah paused, the fingers of one hand tapping away at the table. “If you want a prediction, then here it is. The Skraelings will come to Elcho Falling’s lake. They will dive in and drown and complete their transformation. They will be driven to it. Whatever discussion they’ve been having over the past weeks has altered their mentality so greatly the change is now inevitable. But what will they do as River Angels? I am hopeful that what they will become will be a different incarnation of what once was. They hated that Inardle had killed as a River Angel. I suggest that they will not lift a finger to harm anyone when they become River Angels.”

Maximilian smiled. “Then that’s good news.”

“Not quite,” Isaiah said. “It means they will not lift a single finger to aid you against the Lealfast. They will not touch them.”

There was silence about the table, and Inardle realised that the three men had somehow, perhaps even unconsciously, been pinning their hopes on the Skraelings. It was a strange world indeed, she thought, when men such as these were frustrated that the Skraelings would not ally with them.

“Maximilian,” Inardle said, “you can do nothing about the Lealfast, or the Dark Spire?”

“No,” Maximilian said, without looking at Axis, who was trying to catch his eye. “Ishbel and I have spent sleepless nights — thus our somewhat bedraggled appearance — trying to remember what we could of the contents of the Twisted Tower, in case there was any hope there . . . but no hope and little memory. The Twisted Tower must be drifting farther and farther from this world, and with it goes all its knowledge.”

“Then we need to discuss StarDancer’s —” Axis began.

“No,” Maximilian said. “There is one further thing Ishbel and I can do.”

Before Axis could press him for more information, Georgdi came into the room. “The Lealfast are winding up for the day,” he said.

“I wonder what tomorrow will bring,” Ishbel said quietly into the thoughtful silence.

Maximilian stood, Ishbel with him. Axis rose as well, wanting to speak with Maximilian, but he and Ishbel were gone before Axis had the chance.

In the cold depths of the night, Ishbel and Maximilian ventured to the edge of the Otherworld.

There, waiting for them according to the call Maximilian had sent out earlier in the night, stood Boaz.

“You face a dilemma,” Boaz said. “Infinity has moved close to your world.”

“The One, yes,” Maximilian said. “Boaz, we need to ask how you managed to trap the demon Nzame when he waited in Threshold, and to drag him into Infinity. I —”

“Want to do the same with the One?” Boaz said, his face incredulous. “You can’t.”

“We must be able to do it,” Ishbel said. “I, as your descendant, or Maximilian as Lord of Elcho Falling.”

Boaz gave a slow shake of his head, holding both Ishbel’s and Maximilian’s eyes. “What I did to trap Nzame,” he said, “was to use the power of the One which I commanded as a Magus, and then drag Nzame through to Infinity.”

“And then you escaped,” Ishbel said.

“And then I escaped by transporting myself to the very edges of the Otherworld — which at that time I called the Place Beyond — where I lingered until my wife Tirzah could pull me into the world of the living. Ishbel, Maxel, you cannot do this with the One.”

“But why not?” Ishbel cried.

“Because I used the power of the One to do it,” Boaz said. “Neither of you command that power and even if you did you cannot use it against the One himself. He would toss it back in your faces as a useless and broken thing. The One is infinitely more powerful than Nzame. The One is Infinity. I could not touch him. Neither can you.”

Ishbel and Maximilian shared a look.

“StarDancer has given you the only plan that can possibly work,” Boaz said softly. “I am sorry.”

“You would see the end of the Lords of Elcho Falling?” Ishbel said.

“I would prefer to see that than see the One step through the Infinity Gate into the world of the living and decimate it. No one could stand against him. No one. There is only going to be a moment when he can be trapped, and Ravenna is the one to do it.”

“The Land of Nightmares will hold him?” Maximilian said.

Boaz gave a nod. “It will hold him.”

Maximilian looked at Ishbel, and saw his own desperation reflected in her expression.

They sat in their chamber atop Elcho Falling, not speaking, communicating only through their silence and shared concern.

“How can we trust Ravenna?” Ishbel said finally. “How?”

“You can almost certainly trust her in this,” said a strange voice, and both Maxel and Ishbel sat up, swivelling toward the sound.

A tall well-built man stood a few paces away. He smiled and walked to stand before their chairs. Thick cobalt hair fell down over his brow, and his eyes sparked with blue fire amid fine, almost ethereally beautiful, features.

“My Lord of Dreams!” Maximilian said, rising to his feet, Ishbel only a moment behind him.

“Drava, please,” the Lord of Dreams said. He gestured to Maximilian and Ishbel to sit again, before he took a chair opposite them.

“You think you have a terrible choice before you,” Drava continued, “but in reality it is an easy one. Ravenna, via StarDancer, offers you a good solution to your dilemma.”

Ishbel wanted to say something, but she didn’t know the Lord of Dreams, so left it to Maximilian to lead the conversation.

“You think we can trust her?” Maximilian said.

“Yes,” Drava said. “She has learned well from the ruin of her ambitions, and her learning has sickened her. She will not prove disloyal again.”

“I can hardly believe that,” Ishbel said, forgetting her decision to leave the conversation to Maximilian.

“You are jealous of her —” Drava began.

“Jealous?” Ishbel said. “She murdered Maximilian — only my magic returned him from the gates of death! — and sought to destroy his authority as Lord of Elcho Falling so that she might have it for herself! She has led armies against Elcho Falling, she claimed I would be the citadel’s doom, and —”

Drava waved a hand dismissively. “All that is behind her. Ravenna yearns for her mother Venetia and her little hut on the edge of the marshes in Escator.”

“She will never have either of those again,” Maximilian said.

“No, she will not,” Drava said, “but she also seeks redemption. She is sick of betrayal. She will not betray you again.”

Ishbel’s mouth tightened and she looked away from Drava, unwilling to concede the possibility.

“I need to talk through the problems,” Maximilian said, and Drava gave a small nod.

“Ishbel’s ancestor said that the Land of Nightmares will hold the One,” Maximilian continued. “I need your reassurance on this point.”

“It will hold him,” Drava said. “It could contain all of roiling Infinity and not weaken.”

“If we agree to this plan,” Ishbel said, “then Ravenna will carry the Lord of Elcho Falling in her belly into the Land of Nightmares. What will that do to the baby?”

“It will corrupt him beyond knowing,” Drava said.

“Then my next question,” Ishbel said, “is . . . what will happen if this corrupted Lord of Elcho Falling ever escapes from the Land of Nightmares?”

“As the One cannot escape, then neither will the Lord of Elcho Falling,” Drava said.

“Are you certain?” Maximilian said.

“Totally.”

“But Ravenna can come and go?” Maximilian said.

“Once she has trapped her son and the One in the Land of Nightmarers, she will retain that ability,” Drava said, “but I do not think she will do so. She will stay there. She knows what she risks if she tries to leave — that either her son or the One will travel on her coat tails.”

Ishbel sat back in her chair, sighing and rubbing at her brow. “Again it comes back to trust in Ravenna.”

“What choice do you have?” Drava said. “The Dark Spire grows and the One sits within, waiting to emerge. No one in this world has the power to contain him. You have heard the consequences of allowing the spire to reach maturity — would your distrust and jealousy of Ravenna truly mean you’d allow the One to oversee the destruction of this world? Or is this only about maintaining your own power?”

Maximilian winced at the brutal question. “No.” He glanced at Ishbel, and saw resignation and acceptance in her eyes.

“Drava,” Ishbel said quietly, “we really need to know we can trust Ravenna.”

“Trust her,” Drava said. “You could not up to a month ago, but you can now. She has completed her own journey over this past year.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, Maximilian and Ishbel both coming to terms with what they must do, before Ishbel spoke again.

“What will happen to this citadel,” she said, “if its lord remains trapped in the Land of Nightmares?”

“It will continue,” Maximilian said, “its magic intact, but largely untouchable by anyone. It will wait, wondering if one day its Lord might return.”

Something in Ishbel’s face relaxed then, as if knowing the citadel would remain in its beauty and power gave her consolation.

“And us?” she asked quietly.

Maximilian gave her a small smile. “Our decision, sweetheart. Whatever we want to do. Stay here, without our powers, or —”

“Wait,” Ishbel said. “I control powers as the Lady of Elcho Falling, largely in my own right through blood and training. What happens to these if Ravenna traps her son as Lord of Elcho Falling and the One in the Land of Nightmares?”

“I don’t know,” Maximilian said. “The possibility is that you might retain them. I don’t know. We will have to see.”

Ishbel nodded, and Maximilian could see that she had finally accepted the necessity of StarDancer’s plan. Ravenna would get her powers back and be trusted to trap the One.

“It will not be long now,” Maximilian said quietly.

Ravenna sat in her chamber. She had only been here a matter of days, but to her it felt like decades.

She hated being confined.

Suddenly a tall, beautiful man with cobalt hair materialised before her, and Ravenna gasped as she recognised the Lord of Dreams. She rose, then bowed her head. “Drava.”

They had been lovers a long, long time ago, before Ravenna thought to return to the mortal world in pursuit of her ambitions.

“I have been speaking with Maximilian,” Drava said without preamble.

Ravenna raised her head, looking at him with barely concealed hope.

There was only one reason Drava and Maximilian would have been conversing.

“I told Maximilian you could be trusted,” Drava said.

Ravenna drew in a deep breath, holding it. Her eyes gleamed in hope.

“He is going to accept StarDancer’s plan,” Drava finished.

Ravenna closed her eyes briefly, letting out her breath in a long, slow exhalation. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Ravenna,” Drava said, and Ravenna looked at him again.

“Ravenna, I hope my trust in you has not been misplaced.”

“No, my Lord. It has not. I will do this, if only to make amends for what I have done in the past.”

“You will trap the One in the Land of Nightmares?”

“Yes.”

“And you can do this?”

“Yes. Easily, once Ishbel removes her curses.”

Drava studied her. He had taken a gigantic risk in recommending Ravenna to Maximilian, and he needed to be very sure. “You will need to stay within the Land of Nightmares, Ravenna. You cannot leave. To do so might mean that —”

“I know the implications, my lord. If I left I might leave the way open for either my son or the One to leave, too. I will stay there. My life and the life of my son is enough. We can manage within the Land of Nightmares.” She set her face in a tremulous smile, reaching out a hand to rest lightly on Drava’s arm. “Your trust in me is not misplaced. I will do this for Maximilian, and I will do it for my mother, Venetia, whom I murdered.”

Drava’s face relaxed. He laid his hand over hers, then he smiled and allowed his hand to fall away. “Thank you, Ravenna.”

Ravenna sat motionless for a long time after Drava had gone. She could barely believe that Maximilian had decided to trust her, or that Ishbel would remove her hateful curses.

She would have her power as a marsh witch returned.

Her son — Ravenna rested a hand on her belly — would have his rights as Maximilian’s heir restored and, once Ishbel stripped Maximilian of his power, would become the Lord of Elcho Falling.

From horror and despair . . . to this. Ravenna drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes. She had thought her son would have nothing, but instead he would have everything.

Albeit trapped in the Land of Nightmares with the One.

“But even that . . . ” she whispered. “Even that . . . ” Her hand patted her belly, where her son now grew healthy with the good food provided Ravenna over these past days.

Surely he would not need to stay forever.

Not when Elcho Falling waited for its lord.