'Dog needs a master.'

'So who's his master now?' Ilumene wondered aloud. 'Might be he's a Menin man all the way through, but who'd trust a necromancer? Styrax wouldn't, so he knows he'll never reach an inner circle there. His best bet would be Lord Larim; don't all Chosen of Larat put together a coterie of acolytes?' He felt the little boy on his shoulder nod.

'So why isn't he down in Ismess trying to make nice to the new Lord of the Hidden Tower? He's adaptable, from what we saw in Scree. If I was Larim I'd want the odd-footed git in my coterie, to make the others second-guess themselves as much as anything else. There's nothing more likely to cause trouble than mages thinking they've got a secure position.'

Ruhen pointed up at the figure on the ledge, which hadn't moved. Most of Nai's body was wrapped in the thick blanket against the evening chill; only his head stuck out. 'Light,' the little boy whispered.

'Fuck me,' Ilumene exclaimed, 'look at that!'

Nai flinched at the raised voice. He stared up at the cloud-covered sky for a moment before looking down at the pair watching him. He rubbed a hand over his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes, before pushing himself a little more upright. 'Not good language for a little boy to hear,' he said, with a slight slur to his voice. 'What you want?'

'How about a light?' Ilumene called.

Nai flinched and cast a guilty look at the lamp beside him. Almost immediately the light dimmed considerably and began to flicker in the normal fashion.

'Fine spot you got there,' Ilumene continued, grinning evilly. 'Perfect for a quiet drink.'

Nai raised the flagon beside him and saluted Ilumene. It looked as if the half-gallon flagon had very little left in it.

'There other spots like that?'

'Ah, no.' Nai looked around at the valley, although there was little to see in the deepening gloom. 'Well, maybe, don't know really.'

'You just picked a ledge and got lucky?'

Nai nodded enthusiastically. 'Figured I'd find a quiet corner to finish my beer. I didn't feel it till I got here. The dead area's about twice the height of a man.' He laughed abruptly. 'Sure I read some-where magic was heavier than air.'

Ilumene felt a tug on his ear; Ruhen wanted to move on. 'I'll leave you to your beer then,' he said, giving the necromancer an ostentatious salute. 'Your lord's won back there, but you've got a few more hours until they admit it.'

As Nai looked back at the Scholars' Palace, Ilumene continued down the path as quickly as he could, trying not to attract the necromancer's notice – he might be one of those drunks with the tendency to recall inconvenient details the next morning, and this was one crowd they didn't want to stand out in.

The path was stony underfoot, there was a smattering of gravel as much to mark the way as anything else, and it made enough noise for Ilumene to be able to talk without fear of Nai hearing them. 'Didn't expect to see that,' he said. 'I'd heard the whole valley was a dead place.'

'Palace,' Ruhen contributed.

Ilumene stopped dead. 'Scholars' Palace?' He pursed his lips. 'You've got a point there; his explanation doesn't hold water, does it? The upper floors are much higher than where he was sitting.'

He turned back to make sure: the ground sloped, but Nai's position was nowhere near the same height as the upper floors of the building he'd just left.

'So that just leaves us wondering if he knew about that place in advance, or was told to look for cracks in the glaze. Where's your money?'

Ruhen didn't answer. Ilumene guessed the child was thinking. He had a clump of Ilumene's hair bunched in his little fist. The boy was a strange one, displaying the traits both of a child and an immortal. He had noticed more than a few childish mannerisms slipping out unconsciously, which made him sure there was a trace of the mortal soul remaining. When Ruhen had ordered him to tell the story of the God of Vain Men, it hadn't been just a reassertion of dominance on the part of Azaer; just as the body the shadow wore needed clothes and food, so the sound of a voice telling a story satisfied some ill-defined need within the child.

So this is me playing Dad; didn't see that coming!

'Why choose?' Ruhen said eventually.

'You think they're both true?' Ilumene shrugged. 'Could be right, I suppose. Lord Styrax sending him fishing is the simplest answer, but Nai was part of Zhia Vukotic's inner circle. No reason she's not still got her hooks into him – he plays the middle ground which is where she's happiest too.' He started walking again, resolving to keep going for as long as he could, but juddered to a halt.

'What do you think Lord Styrax is up to here?' he asked abruptly. 'If he's got Nai checking the boundary of the library, it must interest him more than we realised. What if he's got something up his sleeve?'

'Have faith.'

'Hah. Emin always said, "Better to have faith in your preparation". If it's all right with you, I'll think it through a bit more.'

'Good.'

Ilumene waited, but there was no further advice forthcoming. Damn it, do you deliberately act like Emin to goad me, or was Rojak right in saying you're defined by your enemies?

'If he does have something planned, then it's a worry – it could pull everything here out of balance. Linking Lord Isak to Lord Styrax pits the two greatest powers against each other; the Farlan will only win a war on home soil, but they still have to last long enough. If Styrax gains a significant edge he might roll up the West too fast for us to exploit. The Devoted aren't ready for a saviour, the balance has to be maintained.'

'And if it cannot?'

He slipped Ruhen from his shoulders and gently placed the little boy on the ground before kneeling before him. 'You'd abandon your plans?' he asked, stunned. The shadow was patience itself, its steps slow, but played out over years, decades, even centuries. 'I've never seen you step away from anything before.'

'There was never need.'

Slowly Ilumene nodded. 'You can't control them; by your very design the players are beyond the playwright's power. What contingency plans can we prepare? We can't insert prophecies into the Menin history!'

'What am I?'

'A child,' Ilumene began hesitantly, aware the obvious answers would direct him, however foolish they sounded. 'A boy, a saviour, a mortal… a son.'

'A son and a saviour.'

'The Devoted are primed to worship a saviour,' he breathed, realisation dawning, 'while Styrax's only weakness is his son – but you can be both, and preserve the balance that way?'

He paused for a dozen heartbeats while he thought it through. Eventually he shook his head. 'No, this goes against every instinct I have. No general abandons a successful tactic for the untried, let alone one his forces are ill-suited for. Your disciples are all carefully positioned, your plans primed to bear fruit at specific times – how can we change now?

'Before offering battle a general must place himself beyond the possibility of defeat; it is a crucial precept of war. To throw away years of preparation flies in the face of everything I ever learned about warfare. And you have always told me to treat this as a campaign.'

Ruhen was quiet for a while, long enough for Ilumene to wonder whether he had overstepped the mark. Rojak had told him many stories of those servants of Azaer who had incurred the shadow's wrath. King Emin's secret scribes wandered the Land, collecting tales of hauntings and horror, and Ilumene knew that not all of them were people who had opposed Azaer – some had merely failed him. Their endings were the worst.

'Even the most perfect fruit may decay,' the child said at last. There was something in his voice that Ilumene had not heard before, and it made the hairs on his neck rise. With every passing day Ruhen grew faster and faster, growing into the powers he had possessed as a shadow, but it was in a very human manner. After countless centuries of incorporeal weakness, the shadow had grown impatient with its few months of helpless childhood. 'Consider the forces we play our games with. Corruption is inevitable. We must not fear it.'