The two warriors descended the staircase. Eldicar Manushan sat down. The smell of fear was strong on him now, and Three-swords joined Iron-arm at the window. 'The cat-woman is sick,' said Iron-arm, 'or weak. I cannot tell which. She is out of sight, just below those gardens. She has not moved.'

'Can you scent any humans?'

'No – only the wounded or dead. I would think they are dead, for there is no movement or sound from them.'

From where they stood they saw Long-stride and Stone-four emerge into the gardens. Stone-four was moving swiftly, but Long-stride tapped him on the shoulder, ordering him to slow down.

'They won't surprise Long-stride,' said Iron-arm. 'He's careful.'

Three-swords did not answer. He glanced back at Eldicar Manushan. Why was the man so terrified?

He strolled across to where the magicker sat. 'What is it that I do not know?' he asked.

'I don't know what you mean.'

'What is happening here, Eldicar? Why were so many women killed? Why are you so frightened?'

Eldicar licked his lips, then rose and moved in close to Three-swords. 'If the human gets through,' he whispered, 'Deresh Karany will perform the Summoning.'

'So he will use a demon to kill him. He has done this before.'

'Not any demon,' said Eldicar. 'He plans to summon Anharat himself.'

Three-swords said nothing. What was there to say? The arrogance of these humans was beyond his understanding. He saw Iron-arm looking at him quizzically, and he knew why.

He is scenting my fear now, thought Three-swords.

As the air shimmered around her Keeva felt an icy wind swirl over her body. Bright colours exploded before her eyes. Then, as if a curtain had opened, she saw the moonlit apartments of the Grey Man appear before her. The ground shifted under her feet and she half staggered. Ustarte gave out a low moan and sank to the ground. Instantly Waylander knelt by her. 'What is wrong?'

'I am . . . exhausted. It . . . takes great energy. I will be fine.' Ustarte stretched herself out. 'So . . . little power left,' she whispered. She closed her eyes. Waylander moved towards the door of his apartments, and two guards appeared on the pathway to the right. One was holding a hunting bow, an arrow notched to the string.

The second carried a spear. Both men froze as they took in the scene.

Keeva raised her crossbow. 'Put down your weapons,' she said.

For a moment it seemed they would obey her, but then the bowman drew back on the string. A bolt from Waylander's weapon slammed into his chest. He grunted and fell back, his arrow slashing through the air, missing Keeva by inches. The spearman charged at Keeva. Instinctively she pressed both trigger studs on her crossbow. One bolt struck the spearman in the mouth, smashing his teeth, the second entered his skull between the eyes. His charge faltered and he dropped the spear. His hand went to his mouth. Then, as if his bones had turned to water, his body crumpled and he fell at Keeva's feet.

She looked round for the Grey Man, but he had entered the apartments. She transferred her gaze to the dead man, and felt sick. The other guard groaned. Rolling to his stomach, he tried to crawl away. Keeva crossed the ground and stood over him. 'Lie still,' she told him. 'No one is going to harm you further.'

Kneeling by his side, she put a hand to his shoulder, to help him turn on to his back. He relaxed at her touch and she looked into his eyes. He was young and beardless, with large brown eyes. Keeva smiled at him. He seemed about to say something. Then a bolt smashed into the side of his head, crunching through the temple.

Fury swept through Keeva and she swung on the Grey Man. 'Why?' she hissed.

'Look at his hand,' said Waylander.

Keeva glanced down. Moonlight shone upon the dagger blade. 'You do not know that he was going to use it,' she said.

'I did not know that he wasn't,' Waylander told her.

Moving past her, he wrenched the bolt clear of the soldier's head, cleaned it on the man's tunic, and slipped it back into his quiver. 'We do not have time for lessons, Keeva Taliana,' he said. 'We are surrounded by enemies who will seek to take our lives. To hesitate is to die. Learn fast – or you will not survive the night.'

Behind them Ustarte called out weakly. Waylander knelt by her. 'There are Kriaz-nor within the tower. The wind is off the sea and they will scent the blood.'

'How many can you sense?' he asked.

'Four. There is something else. I cannot quite fasten to it. There has been murder done and there is a tremor in the air. Magic is being cast, but for what purpose I cannot tell.'

Waylander took her hand. 'How soon before you can walk?'

'A few moments more. My limbs are trembling. I have no strength yet.'

'Then rest,' said Waylander, rising and moving to Keeva. 'I have something for you that will give you an edge,' he said.

Ustarte called out again. 'Two Kriaz-nor are moving down the terrace steps.'

Long-stride moved warily. He had not yet drawn his sword. There would be time for that. For now he was using all his senses. He could smell the blood, and the sour odour of urine. The bladders of the dead had emptied. The scent of the meld-woman was also strong, and Long-stride could detect within it an unhealthy aroma. The woman was sick. Stone-four was moving too fast, and was some paces ahead now. Irritated, Long-stride caught up with him. 'Wait!' he ordered.

Stone-four obeyed him and they moved stealthily around the corner. Some fifteen paces ahead of them, sitting upon a rock, was a dark-garbed human. In his left hand he held a double-winged crossbow. Beyond him lay the cat-woman. 'Let me kill him,' said Stone-four. 'I want to win a name!'

Long-stride nodded, and continued to sniff at the air.

Stone-four stepped towards the human. 'Your weapon looks formidable,' he said. 'Why don't you show me how formidable?'

'Come a little closer,' said the human, his voice calm.

'Surely this range is adequate,' replied Stone-four.

'Aye, it is adequate. Did you wish to draw your sword?'

'I will not need it, human. I shall remove your heart with my hands.'

The human rose. 'I am told you are very fast, and that bows are useless against you. Is this true?'

'It is true.'

'Let us find out,' said the man, his voice suddenly cold. Long-stride felt the beginning of apprehension as he heard the man's tone, but Stone-four was tensed and ready. The bow came up. Stone-four's right hand swept up, snatching the bolt from mid-air. Instantly a second bolt followed the first. Stone-four moved with lightning speed, catching this with his left hand. He grinned widely and glanced at Long-stride. 'Easy!' he said. Before Long-stride could warn his comrade the human's right hand flashed out. The throwing knife sped through the air, slamming into Stone-four's throat. The Kriaz-nor, his windpipe severed, took two faltering steps towards the human, then toppled face-first to the ground.

Long-stride drew his sword. 'You have any more tricks to play, human?' he asked.

'Only one,' said the man, drawing a shortsword.

'And what might that be?'

Long-stride heard a whisper of movement behind him.

Spinning on his heel, he scanned the area. Nothing was there. Low bushes and rocks that could not hide a human. Then he saw something so weird that he did not at first register what it was. A crossbow suddenly extended from low to the ground. Long-stride blinked. He could not focus properly on the area around it. The weapon tilted and, in that fraction of a heartbeat, Long-stride saw a slim hand upon the weapon. Two bolts slashed towards him. His sword swept up blocking the first. The second slammed into his chest, burying itself deep into his lungs. A sword blade plunged into his back. Long-stride arched, then swung, his own sword slicing the air. But the human had not crept up behind him as he had thought. The man was still standing some fifteen paces away. He had hurled the sword! Long-stride felt all strength seeping away. Letting fall his blade, he walked stiffly to a rock and sat down heavily. 'You are very skilful, human,' he said. 'How did you make the crossbow shoot?'