Maximilian and his company settled in a room that ran off the courtyard. It had been the grooms’ common room in happier times, and it was equipped with tables and chairs and even several daybeds.

There was no food left, for the Skraelings had been through here and had eaten anything they could find, turning over the furniture and breaking doors from cupboards in the doing. They had also defecated throughout the room. Ishbel and Doyle had grimaced and taken upon themselves the task of cleaning away the foulness. By morning it was done, and the tumbled furniture rearranged. They did not expect to be here long, but while they were here they needed a base.

Out of sight of the pyramid.

They had been aware of it through the night. It had been a sense in every one of them, a subtle twisting of their nerves so that none of them could truly relax. The pyramid was probing, testing.

It knew they were here.

“Does DarkGlass Mountain exist only as an extension of the One?” Serge asked Avaldamon as they sat eating an abstemious breakfast.

“No. Two thousand years ago, the pyramid seemed to have a power and purpose of its own. My son Boaz told me how it murdered at will. He said that he could feel its consciousness with him, following him everywhere. The One is Infinity, come to flesh within the pyramid. They are close, entwined even, but the pyramid has its own consciousness. It regrew itself, not through the agency, or at the behest, of any other power. It is greatly to be feared.”

“Which is why we sit in this room,” said Maximilian. “It has no windows to the west, so we are not in its direct line of sight. That affords us some protection.”

“Then the pyramid will be difficult to destroy,” Doyle said. “How will Maxel manage it?”

Avaldamon, Maximilian and Ishbel shared a look, then Avaldamon took a deep breath.

“Maximilian will not be the one to destroy DarkGlass Mountain,” Avaldamon said.

“I will have to do it,” Ishbel said.

“My lady?” Serge said.

“But . . . ” Doyle added, his face as aghast as that of his friend.

“I have spoken of this briefly with Ishbel and Maximilian,” said Avaldamon, “but it is good we talk of it now and go into some detail. Ishbel is descended from the eldest child of Boaz, my son, and his wife Tirzah. When Boaz did battle with Threshold, as the pyramid was then known, and the entity which inhabited it — Nzame — Tirzah was present. She was also pregnant with their first child, the girl who would later found the line which culminated in Ishbel. Something happened during that battle. We know that both Tirzah and the child were touched by Threshold and we now know that something happened . . . some knowledge was passed to the child. A power . . . an understanding, if you will, of the very nature of the pyramid itself.”

“Ishbel is also of the bloodline of Persimius,” said Maximilian. “Furthermore, she took many of the powers and abilities of the Lords of Elcho Falling during those few hours when I lay dead and she wore the ring of Persimius. Although I again breathe and wear the title of Lord of Elcho Falling, Ishbel retains much of the power. She is as much Elcho Falling’s lord as I.”

“And,” Ishbel said, “I carry the abilities of the Coil within me. I was its Archpriestess and the best the Coil ever produced.”

“Ishbel is the culmination of much accidental, as well as planned, contrivances,” Avaldamon said. “She carries many abilities.”

“And,” Ishbel said, giving Maximilian an ironic smile, “while Avaldamon may not say this, none of us can risk Maximilian going into the pyramid. No one can risk losing him again.”

“But you are not expendable either, my lady!” Serge said.

“No,” Maximilian said very quietly, taking Ishbel’s hand. “She is not.”

“I am slightly more expendable,” said Ishbel. “And this needs to be done.”

“There is a book .” Doyle said. “Someone mentioned a book of power.”

“The Book of the Soulenai,” said Avaldamon. “It is an ancient Elcho Falling treasure. It has been sitting inside Elcho Falling for these past months, together with its special guardian —”

Ishbel and Maximilian looked oddly at Avaldamon at that.

“— who will serve to show Ishbel the way.”

“Guardian?” Ishbel said.

“You will know more,” said Avaldamon, “when you meet him.”

Ishbel gave him an irritated look, but questioned him no more.

“When?” said Maximilian.

“Tonight,” said Avaldamon. “Until then we wait.”

They sat in silence, eating the last of their breakfast. Serge eventually rose, pacing about the room until he halted before the room’s single window and looked toward the now rapidly rising sun.

“Maximilian!” Serge said. “Look! Look at this great foulness!”

Everyone leapt to their feet and came to the window. It faced east, yet they could see a triangular shadow moving over the courtyard . . . eastward, toward the sun.

DarkGlass Mountain.

Probing.

It moved across to the far side of the courtyard, then began to fall backward, closer and closer to the window.

Everyone reflexively stepped away.

The shadow crept to the wall, then they could feel it rising up the wall toward the windowsill.

Maximilian stepped forward and slammed shut the interior shutters, bolting them securely.

“It knows we are here,” he said.