'Are you all right? Akeem asked.

Edeard groaned as he rolled back to his feet, There were flames everywhere, their ferocity sending huge sparking balls of thatch high into the sky. Windows and doors were belching out twisting orange streamers. The heat was intense on his bare torso, he was sure he could feel his skin starting to crack and blister. 'I'm here, he replied. 'But I can't sense them, I don't know where they are. And he knew the watchtower bandit was coming, slipping stealthily through the swirling flames and sagging walls.

'Try this, Akeem said. His longtalk voice became stretched as if rising to birdsong. It seemed to fill Edeard's skull. A knowledge gift, thoughts and sometimes memories that explained how to perform a specific mental task. Edeard had absorbed hundreds of basic explanations on the art of sculpting but this was far more complex. As the song ended he began to shape his farsight and third hand together into a symbiotic force that wove a darkness through the air around him. It was like standing in the middle of a thick patch of fog.

'Now please, Akeem pleaded. 'Get out. Do not waste your life, Edeard, don't make some futile gesture. Please. Remember: the Blue Tower in Makkathran. Go there. Be someone.

'I can't leave you! he cried into the terrible night.

'The village is already lost. Now go. Go, Edeard. Don't let everything be wasted.

Edeard wanted to shout out that his Master was wrong, that his valiant apprentice friends and strong Masters like Melzar and Wedard were leading the fight back. But looking at the fiery devastation around him he knew it wasn't true. The screams were still filling the air, along with the snarl of fastfoxes and the deadly clamour of guns. Resistance was contracting to a few Guild compounds and halls. The rest of the village was burning to ruin. There was nothing to be saved. Except Salrana.

Edeard forced himself to his feet and started running towards the market again. Once, a bandit hurried past him along the street, not five yards away. The man never knew how close they were. Edeard could so easily have killed him, extracted some vengeance. But that would have shown the watchtower bandit where he was, and even through his anger and desperation Edeard knew he had neither the skill nor strength to win that confrontation.

He sped past three more bandits before charging into the marketplace. The square was surrounded by a wall of flame, but it was cooler amid the stalls. Two bandits were holding down a woman, laughing while the third of their band raped her. Their fastfoxes prowled round the little group, keeping guard.

Edeard just couldn't ignore it. He even recognized the woman though he didn't know her name; she worked at the tannery, helping prepare the hides.

The first the bandits knew of anything amiss was when their fastfoxes suddenly stopped circling. All six beasts swung their heads round, huge jaws opening to ready fangs the size of human fingers.

'What— one of the bandits managed to say. He brought his gun up, but it was too late. The fastfoxes leapt. More screams echoed out around the stalls.

'Ah, there you are, a longtalk voice gloated. 'I was worried you'd run away from me.

Edeard snarled into the smoke-wreathed sky. Try as he might, he couldn't track where the longtalk was originating.

'Now what are you doing there, apart from slaughtering my comrades? Oh yes, I see.

Edeard was aware of Salrana hunched up behind the counter in the corn measure stall, glancing upwards with a puzzled expression. He started to sprint towards her.

'He's in the marketplace, the bandit announced across the whole village. 'Close in.

Edeard sensed bandits turning to head towards him.

'Oh she is lovely. The very young one from the church, isn't it? Yes, I recognize her. Well congratulations, my tough little friend. Good choice. She's certainly worth risking everything for.

Edeard reached the corn measure stall, and dropped his concealment. Salrana gasped in astonishment as he appeared in front of her.

'Got you.

Edeard was only too well aware of the urgent satisfaction in the bandit's longtalk. There was the tiniest flashover of pounding feet, leg muscles straining with effort to get there, to capture the feared hoy.

'Right at the end I'm going to cut your eyelids off so you have no choice but to watch while I fuck her, the bandit said, twining his longtalk with a burst of dark pleasure. 'It'll be the last thing you see before you die. But you'll go straight to Honious knowing this; I'll keep her for my own. She's coming with me, tough boy. And I'll put her to work every single night. Your girl is going to spend the next decade bearing my children.

'Get up, Edeard yelled, and tugged at Salrana's arm. She was crying, her limbs limp and unresponsive. 'Don't let him get me, she wept. 'Please, Edeard. Kill me. I couldn't stand that. I couldn't, I'd rather spend eternity in Honious.

'Never, he said; his arms went round her and he enfolded her within his concealment.

'Get the fastfoxes in the market, the bandit ordered. 'Track him. Find his scent.

'Come on, Edeard whispered. He started for the main entrance, then stopped. Over ten bandits with their fastfoxes were heading up the street towards him. They ignored the frantic chickens and gibbering ge-chimps that were running away from the swirl of lethal flames consuming the buildings. 'Lady! He searched round, not daring to use his farsight in case the diabolical bandit could detect that.

'I don't care if the fire's making it hard to track. Find him!

The bandit's tone was angry, which was the first piece of good news Edeard had encountered all night. Now he glanced round, he saw just how awesome the fire had become. Every building was alight. A foul smoke tower billowed hundreds of feet over the village, blocking the constellations and nebulas. Below its dismal occlusion, walls were collapsing, sending avalanches of burning furniture and broken joists across the lanes. Even the bandits were becoming wary as the smaller alleys were blocked. Of course, the blazing destruction was also closing off Edeard's escape routes. What he needed was a distraction, and fast. His third hand shoved a pile of beer barrels, sending them toppling over. Several burst open. A wave of beer lapped across the cobbles, spreading wide. As the same time he grabbed the minds of as many genistars he could reach, and pulled them into the market, offering them sanctuary. The animals bounded over the stalls, stampeding down the narrow aisles. Flustered fastfoxes charged after them, shaking off their mental restraints to obey more basic hunter instincts.

Almost clever, the bandit announced. 'You think that'll cover your smell? Well why don't you avoid this, tough guy?

The bandits in the market square formed a loose line, and began firing, sweeping their blazing gun muzzles in wide arcs. Genistars howled and whimpered as the bullets chewed through their flesh. They jumped and sprinted for cover as lines of bullets swept after them. Fastfoxes snarled in hatred and distress as they too were hit. Dozens of animals tumbled lifeless on to the cobbles. Blood mingled with beer, washing down the slope.

Edeard and Salrana hunched down as bullets thudded into the stalls around them. Wood splinters whirled through the air. They started to crawl. It wasn't long before the guns stopped. Edeard waited for the next longtalk taunt, but it didn't come. 'Hurry, he urged her. Holding hands, they ran for the alley which led round tbe back of the Carpentry Guild compound. Bandits and their fastfoxes were on patrol around the walls. The inside of the compound burned like a brazier as fire consumed the woodworking halls and timber stores, sending vast plumes of flame into the smoke-clotted sky. The slate roof of the main building had al ready collapsed. Edeard wondered if anyone was still alive inside, maybe sheltering in the cellars. Surely Obron would have found a way. He couldn't imagine a world without Obron.