Tobias saw them. Came round the corner and saw. Landra. Raeta. Thalia. Amrath’s bones.

Landra looked up and saw Tobias. His face, when he saw Thalia. His face, when he saw the bones.

“Thalia, girl …” Tobias said uncertainly. “Thalia, girl …”

“You should just have left me alone,” said Thalia. Her voice cracked on the word “alone.” She looked thinner. Older. The bones stood out on her neck and her wrists. A heavy necklace of diamonds tight around her throat. Like a collar, Landra thought. A collar for a slave. Or a dog. Thalia’s hand moved to her stomach, her left arm, her stomach again.

“You’re a fool, girl,” said Tobias. “Endless number of times, I told you that.”

“I am the Queen of the White Isles and Ith and Illyr and Immier and the Wastes and the Bitter Sea. The Queen of All Irlast.”

“Worth it, is it?” said Tobias. “All those lives, just so as you can say that? Really that good in bed, is he, your pretty faced King Vomit? Give you that necklace, did he, and that fancy shiny dress? I did warn you, Thalia, girl.”

“I am the Queen of the White Isles and Ith and Illyr and Immier and the Wastes and the Bitter Sea. The Queen of All Irlast. My life is filled with wonders. Wonders and pleasures and power and love. The price of that … Why should I care?” Thalia’s hand moving from her arm to her stomach to her necklace. “You’d sell the world for far less than I have, Tobias. A handful of coins. A moment to pretend your life is worth living. That was your price.”

Tobias opened his mouth, and closed it, and made a dry croaking sound.

“Why must you still think,” said Thalia, “that I am merely blinded by love for him?”

Raeta screamed something. Scream of hatred beyond human words. All her faces contorted with hatred. All her body lashing out, teeth, wings, horns, claws. Threw herself at Thalia. Knocked her crashing to the ground.

Men came running with their swords out. Thalia’s guards? They charged at Raeta fighting with Thalia. Tobias was there meeting them. Four against one. Tobias was up against a pillar. Sword in one hand, sword in the other, defensive, just fighting fighting hopelessly to stay alive.

Golden light burst out from Thalia. Golden light swallowing up Raeta. Drowning her. Golden light warm and soft and comforting as the morning sun. Golden light like forge fires, wildfires, blazing parching sun in the desert, light with no shadows showing up every flaw and failure of a life.

Raeta shrieked. Pain in her voice beyond human language. Throwing out leaves and branches and claws and wings. The air smelled of fruit and flowers. Golden light ripping her burning her apart. Tobias up against a pillar fighting desperately defensively.

Her god’s bones, lying in front of her. His empty staring skull. His ribs crushed where the dragon His brother had fought Him. A silver ring on the bones of His hand.

Landra bent forwards. Began to crawl.

Tobias was fighting, not even trying to injure them, not even trying to attack, just ward them off, just keep alive for one moment longer, just keep alive. Life’s a pile of shit. Life’s unfair and pointless and hurts. Life’s a long slow painful way of dying. But I don’t, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. A stab wound in his shoulder. A gash opening on his arm. Swords in both hands, and he’s shaking so that the sword blades shake useless. Just stay alive. Just stay alive. Just stay alive. A gash opening on his face. His knees buckling. I don’t want to die. I’m dying. I don’t want to die. I want to stay alive.

Landra’s hand closing over bone fragments. Dead and dry beneath her fingers. Her hands dried and mummified. Poisoned. Sucking the life out of her. She feels as though she is blinded. Clawing at them, unable to see, unable to feel. Blasphemy. Violation. This is god.

Raeta is dying. Tobias is dying. Tobias is trying to ward off sword blows with his raised arms.

The dry bones crumble beneath her fingers.

The ring slides off easily into her hand.

Tobias is fighting dying fighting dying fighting dying fighting dying fighting.

And then everything stops. The men killing him. Thalia killing Raeta. Everything.

Landra is standing there in front of them. Landra is holding a ring with a demon in it. The one thing Amrath Himself feared. The one thing that can destroy him.

Landra is holding a ring with a demon in it. And she can feel it. The hatred. The raging hunger. A thing of vengeance. A thing that seeks only and forever to kill.

Don’t go looking for revenge, Ru had said.

Thalia is too beautiful to look at. Raeta is as huge as the stars. Tobias is dying. Landra is standing holding a ring with a demon in it in the dust of her god’s burned dead bones.

Landra holds out the ring to Raeta.

“But it’s worse,” Landra whispers. “It’s worse than he is.”

Raeta pulls the ring out of Landra’s fingers. Tobias sees her face for a moment and she’s so, so afraid.

“It’s worse than he is,” Landra whispers.

“Yes,” said Raeta. “But he has to be destroyed. No matter what. His death. That is all that matters here now. His death.”

Raeta burns up huge and bright and glowing, flowers and fruits and leaves and sweet fresh summer earth. The air roars like thunder.

The gabeleth breaks free.

White pale, like wood smoke. River mist. Strong and solid, the way mist is before the eyes. A man’s shape, twisting. Man’s long arms. Man’s face.

Huge.

Shouts across the battle ground. Screams. Even cheers? But of course the Army of Amrath has seen demons and dragons. Whatever this is, it cannot be something to fear. White twisting thing rising, mouth opening, long arms reaching out. Blood marking its features. Eyes and mouth open wounds. Hands reaching out grasping. Maggot crawling fingers tracing over Landra’s skin.

Huge. Towering over them. Raeta the life god lying broken at its feet.

Tobias screaming. Pissed himself in terror. He sees it. Knows it. Vengeance thing. Summoned up by the shedding of blood.

Landra crouches cowering. Maggot crawling fingers tracing over her. Pushing her downwards. Pain as it rips itself inside. My father’s dead. My mother’s dead. My sister’s dead. My brother’s dead.

No.

No. No. No.

Ah, gods, she thinks, what have I unleashed? What have I done?

Soldiers coming running. Blood-soaked armour. Blood-soaked faces. Blood-soaked minds. Drawing swords on it, shouting. Fall before it, grovelling in the soil, eyes pressed down. Vengeance. Bloodshed. It consumes them. Destroys them. Vengeance thing.

What have I done? What have I done?

Soldiers coming running. Dressed in flayed human skin. Feasting and cheering victory. “Death and ruin! Death and all demons! Death! Death! Death!” They do not know what they have been saying. Now they see the truth of it. Death. It destroys them. Tears them, rends them in agony, drags their hearts from their bodies, rips out eyes and tongues. Nothing, it makes them. Lumps of meat. Meat and blood and muck.

Always, for someone, the world is being ended. And this is vengeance. Ruin and death. Mindless dead despairing hate. Burn the world. Piss on the ashes. Life’s an illusion. Life’s filth and dying. Just death and death and death.

Marith coming stumbling towards it. Holding up his sword. Thinks he can kill it. Thinks it’s the same as him.

Marith tries to hit it. His sword swings wide. White smoke mist fingers claw at him. Long blood scratch running down his arm.

Marith’s sword bounces off it. Hacking, hacking. Marith swaying on his feet. Stabbing. Hitting. Staring in confusion. Helpless. White smoke mist body hits back at him.

Marith stumbling. Falling. Shouting out wordlessly. Still trying to swing his sword.

White smoke mist fingers close round him. Sinewed arm choking his throat.

All so silent. No sound. No smell. No feel. Thing that isn’t a real thing. Smoke mist nothing. Crushing him.

He’s dying! Landra’s mind screaming. He’s dying! He’s almost dead!

Marith jerking, thrashing, down on the burned ground, smoke mist covering him.

Teeth opening through wound mouth. Teeth biting down.

Marith screams.

Shadows in the air, shrieking. Circling round and round. Shapeless. No wings, no hands, no face. Blind shadow clots hating the world. Plunge at it. Tear at it. Black shadows white smoke. Lightning crashing between them. Blast of black fire. Marith rolling screaming bloody on the ground. Marith’s rolling around dying. Smoke mist hands crushing his beautiful white throat.

Crushing Marith. Destroying his soldiers. Bringing the stones of his fortress crashing down.

Vengeance! Vengeance! Vengeance for the dead!

Kill him! Kill him!

Warm white light. Lightbeams like the sunrise.

Brighter than anything. Brighter than living. Brighter than the sun.

Thalia raises her arms to the heavens.

Light pouring off her face.

The gabeleth shivers. Weak before her. Mist and cobwebs. Thing of hate and vengeance. Blood thing. Death thing.

Golden light. Golden shadows.

“Go,” Thalia says. She is shining with light.

So weak, the gabeleth. Weak, hate thing. Nothing thing. Death thing.

“Go.”

It howls at her. Claws at her.

She stands very still.

It cannot touch her.

Weak thing.

Nothing thing.

Gone.

Thalia shines triumphant. The mist clearing. The sky calming. The stars shine down on her. The Dragon’s Mouth. The White Lady. The Dog.

The King’s Star.

Shining.

Marith sits up. Bruised and battered. Coughing. Blood on his face. The starlight shines on Marith’s silver crown.

Thalia helps him to his feet.

Thalia looks at Landra. Looks at Tobias.

Smiles.

Sighs.

Leads Marith away.

Tobias and Landra sit still and frozen.

Raeta lies there beside them dead.