‘I don't know for certain. I suspect that something in the Vow is transforming me, perhaps all of us Avowed, preserving us. Sustaining us so long as it should hold. Until we complete it.’

The brothers shared shocked glances, Stalker scowling. ‘That's impossible.’

A shrug from K'azz invited Stalker to come up with his own explanation. The news meant nothing to Kyle. All it did was confirm that something strange was going on – as though he needed to be told that!

‘Where's the little rat?’ Coots asked.

Everyone glanced around. K'azz pointed, ‘There.’

Kyle squinted: a tiny dark dot out on the unrelentingly uniform wind-scoured waste.

‘For the love of the Infinite,’ Badlands breathed, ‘doesn't he even know we've stopped?’

K'azz set out at a jog, waving them on, ‘C'mon. We mustn't lose him.’

They all set out at a jogging run. At first they seemed to make no progress; the tiny dot seemed to get no larger. Kyle already knew distances and proportions were strange here in Shadow. They trotted for a time, then set out at a run again; they were gaining ground. Kyle's lungs burned, his feet and thighs ached. None of the others evidenced any signs of exertion. He bit down on the pain and kept going. Quite suddenly, they caught up. The man had stopped and was waiting for them, an irked expression on his wrinkled, hairy face.

‘Yes?’ he demanded.

They halted. Kyle bent over to pant, hands on his knees. Stalker faced the fellow, ‘Well? Is this it?’

Hethe cupped a hand to his ear. ‘What? What was that? You think I can't hear? Well I can! Perfectly!’ He turned around and set off again in his awkward bowed-legged walk.

‘I swear I'm gonna kill ‘im,’ Coots ground out.

K'azz waved them forward. ‘Let's go.’

They continued on. Coots muttered darkly about strangulation and torture, then, louder, ‘I swear he's leadin’ us in circles!’

‘We have no choice,’ K'azz answered tiredly.

Kyle shifted to walk alongside K'azz. The man caught him studying him sidelong. ‘Yes?’

Wetting his lips, Kyle ventured, ‘So – you're really him?’

An amused smile. ‘Yes, Kyle.’

He'd done it! Actually found him! But they were a long way from Quon. ‘I knew Stoop.’

The smile broadened. ‘Yes, Stoop. I learned a lot from him when I was a lad.’

‘Are you really a Prince?’

K'azz tilted his head aside, thinking. ‘Some call me that. I was a Duke. During the wars I defended a principality for a time. But that fell too…’

Kyle glanced away. Oaf! Reminding him of all that.

Coots shouted, pointing ahead: ‘Look there! There's some poor bastard he led out here to die before.’

It was a skeleton in verdigrised armour sprawled in the desert sands. The wind had piled little dunes of dust and sand up over its limbs. Reaching it Hethe stopped, jerking as if startled. They caught up with him.

‘What is it?’ K'azz asked.

In a sighing of sands and creaking of leather-cured sinew and tendons, the skeleton stood. All five of them leapt back, drawing weapons; their scout remained where he stood. The animated corpse took hold of the front of Hethe's robes and raised him from the ground, shook him like a dog. Coots edged forward for a blow. The thing raised a hand. ‘Hold!’

Out of the bottom of the ragged robes fell the little winged and tailed monkey they'd followed before. It hung its head before the skeleton, kicked at the dirt like a guilty child. ‘This has gone far enough,’ the being said. ‘I do not want Shadow becoming embroiled in this. Now go.’ Brightening, the monkey-thing puffed up its chest and marched off. After it had gone a few paces it shot back a glance, wrinkled up its wizened features, stuck out its tongue, then scampered off at a run.

All six of them watched it go. It seemed to Kyle to shrink down into the distance with impossible speed. He faced the corpse – for upon closer inspection it resembled more a desiccated body, dried cured flesh and all. Like the Imass he'd heard so much of. Thinking of that, he glanced to K'azz who likewise was examining the creature, wonder – and suspicion – on his face. ‘Who are you?’ K'azz asked.

‘My name is Edgewalker,’ came the breathless dry response, like wind over heated sand. ‘Though it means nothing to you. What is important is that you do not belong here. I am sending you back.’

‘About damned time,’ Coots said aside to Kyle.

‘To Quon?’ K'azz asked, but the being merely waved. ‘Quon Tali!’ K'azz shouted, demanding. The grey gloom of the Warren gathered around them, choking off all vision. It was not dark or night, merely so dim Kyle could barely see. Ahead, a pale glow asserted itself; he and the rest headed for it. Kyle found himself in a cave hacked from loose sandy rock. He headed for its opening where starlight shone cold but bright. He had to step over several figures wrapped in thin blankets asleep around a dead fire-pit. He came out into a clear cold night. Cliffs surrounded them, marred by dark openings, a multitude of caves. A road passed before them climbing the incline. In the distance roaring and flashes bruised the night like lightning to both the north and south. K'azz climbed down ahead and now faced the south, staring. They joined him.

The road switchbacked down cliffs to a long, narrow stone bridge over a wide river. The far bank was swarming with figures lit by countless torches. The mass of them were all crowded around the far end of the bridge and filled its length to about the halfway point where the press stopped, held back by what appeared to be just a few men. Avowed? He looked to K'azz; the man was studying the bridge, his eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Cole,’ he whispered, ‘Amatt, Lean, Black and Turgal.’

‘Brethren!’ K#x0027;azz roared. ‘Attend!’

Silence and stillness. Dogs ran away, loping through the rocks, tails down. Kyle studied the bridge. Such a mass of soldiers facing such a thin barrier… why not just cut them down with arrows and bolts? But then, the bridge appeared to have stone sides, and the press was so close – any flights of missiles would account for far more of the attackers.

Stalker nudged him, lifted his chin to across the way. Something obscured the many dark cave openings opposite – gauzy grey shapes came emerging from the shadows. They filed down, approaching, silent. Kyle jumped as more stepped out from behind him. Shades in the hundreds. All the Avowed dead. They surrounded the party. All empty dead sockets stared fixed upon K'azz and Kyle could feel the heat, the awful will of that regard. It seemed as if the rest of the party need not even have existed to these shades. Just a year ago such a visitation would have sent Kyle screaming into the night; but by now he felt inured to any horror. He even recognized two of the fallen.

K'azz studied them in turn, nodding to many. ‘This attack is against my wishes. Who leads this invasion?’

Hissed from hundreds of indistinct throats: ‘Skinner.’

A nod from K'azz, who'd known all along. ‘Obey no more orders from him. He is expelled from our company. He is disavowed.’ The Brethren inclined their heads in acquiescence.

‘Not so easy, I suspect,’ Stalker whispered aside to Kyle.

‘Now, give my regards to those defending the bridge and ask if they can hold much longer. And send word to all – I am returned.’

The Brethren bowed and as one they bent to a knee. Then, to Kyle's eye they seemed to slowly disperse, disappearing as a haze in the sun. All but one: the shade of a short thin man with one hand – Stoop – who approached, smiling. ‘Well done, lad. Well done. Knew you'd pull it off.’

To this outrageous claim Kyle could only shake his head.

A shade materialized next to K'azz. ‘Cole sends his welcome and asks how many days you require.’

A tight grin from K'azz. ‘Tell Cole I'll send relief as soon as I can.’

The shade remained. K'azz, who had started for the road, stopped short. ‘Yes?’