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Whatever it takes, whatever the cost, Jeren must stay here, he argued. Shes his heir and his powers will pass to her should he die. She needs our protection. Shan pushed on longer into the deepening night than he should have done had he been planning to return. He covered good ground, though in the deepening twilight he knew he wouldnt be able to go on for much longer. The terrain was treacherous enough, without the added complication of darkness. As he walked, he tried to push the amusement of the Enchassa from his mind. She didnt speak. She didnt need to. She was spying on him again and his internal debate with himself was giving her all the amusement she could ask for. She didn’t even need to intervene to make it worse. There was no worse. I knew youd come, she said. He did nothing but protect me. But she knew Gilliad wouldnt listen to reason. And trapped here, with Shan also in his power, what could she do but play along with his delusions? The memories are at once beguiling and painful. She has not allowed herself to think much upon what happened all those years ago. To do so would be to invite rage to enter her, and to do so would undo so many years of hard work. She has pieced her soul back together countless times. Has learned to journey into the place where he still exists. Where he waits for her. The place she visits each time she jockeys upon the soul of the strangers who surrender to her will. She has never allowed herself to think upon the girls who shared that dark space with her. The girls who left her there. She was in that dark, cold space for a very long time. Was there so long that when the voice started speaking to her, she was so grateful for company that she did not question her sanity. He was dead, yes. She had smashed his skull in like a spoon striking a boiled egg. But something of him remained. Something that spoke to her. Something that floated in the centre of her vision. He has been with her ever since. Has been witness to three decades of learning. Of discovery. She is a master of her craft now. She lives within two realms. She is a bridge between the living and the dead and often she nudges people from one side to the other. In such moments, she feels him. Feels Cormac. He spoke to her last night as she sat, half-smiling, in front of the computer screen. Violet was calling her home. Violet wanted to remember. Violet was ready to see… Rowan looks out at the burnished pewter bowl of the valley, f ringed in places by dense, spiky woodland. Its a brutally cold day, the wind and rain assaulting the car like fists and boots. Its his first time behind the wheel of the vintage Nissan Figaro that Serendipty and her wife like to use for picnics when they feel like treating themselves to a little luxury. Its recently been restored to the pale blue of the factory floor. It’s Jo’s pride and joy. She takes the family Kia to work each day just so that using the Figaro feels more like a special occasion. Dippy hadn’t believed her uncle when he said that her two mums wouldn’t object to him borrowing it. But he’d shown her the message on his phone; a carefree acquiescence and instruction to be careful’. Rowan had been quite proud of the speed with which he had typed the message with his bandaged hands, and the ease with which he had mimicked his sister’s text-voice. Mud streaks are already making a mess of the white-wall tyres. She replayed the evenings performance in her mind, watching but not seeing the brutality on screen as Woe despatched more character fodder. Unfamiliar comfort took her by surprise: her father had actuallycaredabout her. It couldnt be attention that she craved, feeling more at ease in her own company, slapping paint on a canvas. Perhaps the slightest touch of a connection…? Sometimes a spark can flare between two separate live wires. She thought back to Vickis goddamn painting.Perception. Outside and looking in, the home warm and welcoming, but Samara always trapped beyond as the observer. Had one of the painted figures beyond the window looked up from their humble yet content existence and seen the cold figure out there? Rowan finds himself laughing.I dont think I was doing that, he protests. “She was younger than me, anyway. And I didnt like all that housewife stuff she wanted to do. I paid for a cleaner so she wouldnt have to pick up after me. Man on Train peers up and down the aisle, and finding his only companion, smiles in her direction. Of course, he would. He ruled through terror and cruelty, just as she had known he would. Exhibit B was a folded-up piece of paper. Her father plucked it from the clutter and began to unfurl the tight wad of paper. Max grumbled something under his breath.She went out there to kill him. If you want to judge her for that, then go ahead, but after all that son of a bitch did to her and the others, its what he deserved. Reaching an intersection, he turned left into a parking lot. “And youre not going any further with me unless you tell mewhat your intentions are when we get there. She had to ensure that only those fit to travel came, as so many too young or too old were trying to inveigle their way into the troops. The Shistra-Phail helped, their veneration of the elderly, and their care for the young making them eagle-eyed in this task. Its always weird monsters and doom and gloom, her father complained. But didnt they make everything just a little bit better? Life a little more interesting? Whats different about her? Gabriel asked, placing my cup close to my hands. As she waits, he wonders what she might be up to. He presumes shes out doing good deeds. Whenever he asks how shes spent the day it has invariably been on some lost cause – saving old sycamore trees from the council chainsaw or demanding better play facilities for the park in some dying fell side village. She spends a lot of time at meetings, munching cheap biscuits in her fingerless gloves and trying to inject some compassionate liberalism into agenda items. Hes amazed she hasn’t yet thrown herself into the sea. Stairs wound downwards, and once on the ground floor, they headed onwards, towards the dungeons and the mausoleum. Through moonlit courtyards, past sparkling fountains where flowers waved in the breeze, past colonnades and gardens, into the deeper darkness. Aubrey, Im so sorry, its just Im in this thing now. Properly in it. The things I’ve seen, Aubrey – I thought I was a hard man but I tell you, my heart’s in bits…,.