He still didn't find his longed-for death on the vicious splintered wood. A blast of azure power from Lizardskin shoved the islander sideways through the air, to leave him sprawled, motionless, on the sand. The Bone Wearer's head snapped round and he shouted at Lizardskin before going over to the islander and kicking him. The Chazen man didn't react and the Bone Wearer examined him more closely. He stood up, one hand knotted in the islander's hair, shaking the body to display a plainly broken neck, laughing derisively at Lizardskin.

Lizardskin shut his mouth with a slap of blue mage-light across the face. The Bone Wearer was knocked clean off his feet, breastplate clattering, and several white shards falling from his hair. Scrambling on to his knees, he swept a hand towards Lizardskin and ochre light surged through the sand. Lizardskin disappeared in a whirling cloud of dust shot through with amber flashes. The Bone Wearer got to his feet and laughed.

'What are they doing?' quavered Risala.

'Duelling,' Dev said with slow fascination.

The Bone Wearer stopped laughing, looking down, face twisted with fury and rapid thought. The sand around his feet was glowing with a dark, mossy light and he was sinking into it. Knee deep inside a few breaths, he thrust his hands downward and the greenish radiance fled. As it did, the storm of sand around Lizardskin exploded to reveal the panting mage within scored with countless gashes. He flung a handful of raw blue light at the Bone Wearer, which bowled across the sand scooping up razor-edged shell fragments. Some rattled against the other mage's breastplate, more cut deep into his naked arms and legs. The Bone Wearer swept his hands around like a man brushing away flies and the blue light vanished. He brushed sweat from his forehead, glaring at Lizardskin.

'Is it over?' Risala asked hopefully.

'They don't think so.' Dev nodded at the savages all prudently retreating, some to the shelter of the ditch along with the captive islanders or back towards the boat in the shallows. The only person unperturbed was Feathercloak. He stood, arms folded inside his bright mantle, head slightly inclined with a nimbus of protective magic shimmering around him.

Lizardskin walked around the Bone Wearer in a slow circle, one hand raised, palm outwards and fingers spread. The Bone Wearer pivoted where he stood, always keeping Lizardskin in view. He held his hands in front of his breastplate, palms pressed together. Greenish light dripped from Lizardskin's hand and vanished into the ground. Mist began gathering around the Bone Wearer's feet, dense and white. The Bone Wearer laughed and swept the nascent fog away with gusts of sapphire-tinted breeze.

The mist cleared but the sand beneath the Bone Wearer's feet wasn't mossy with magic summoned from water but suffused with an amber light that suddenly glowed bronze. The Bone Wearer screamed as he found himself up to his ankles in furnace heat. He lashed at the ground with his azure magic, sending gouts of molten sand glittering through the air, trailing spider's-web tendrils of glass. The searing missiles skittered across the sand, some scoring deep wounds in Lizardskin's legs, but the wild mage didn't falter, hate-filled eyes fixed on the Bone Wearer.

A column of flame erupted from the sand encircling the Bone Wearer. The fire roared, choking off his agonised scream, brightening to a white heat inside a few breaths. Abruptly as it had arisen, the blaze disappeared, leaving only a slowly twisting pillar of pale grey ash sinking to the sand. The mage in the lizard-skin cloak fell to his hands and knees, his eyes turned apprehensively to Feathercloak.

The savage wizard in the bright feathers walked slowly over to the pitiful heap of ash. Crouching, he took up a handful, letting it sift through his fingers. There wasn't so much as a splinter of bone left. He laughed, the ringing sound shocking in the frozen silence. Walking over towards Lizardskin, he offered the younger mage his hand. Lizardskin took it, rising stiffly to his feet, pride struggling through the pain of his burns.

Feathercloak summoned the underling who'd been entrusted with the coffer of acceptable loot. After a brief exchange, Lizardskin clapped a hand on the underling's shoulder and turned him around to face the people on the beach, his gesture eloquent. The invaders' bows to their new leader were immediate and fervent, followed by cheering and clapping, some drumming on the hard ground with their spears. Those who'd come with Feathercloak joined in the celebration, welcoming Lizardskin with laughter and smiles.

'You'd think he'd treated them all to a feast instead of burned a man to death with magic,' muttered Risala, revolted.

Lizardskin basked in the applause for a few moments before prostrating himself before Feathercloak in abject obeisance. Feathercloak nodded, content, and threw a shimmer of light across Lizardskin's prone body. The lesser wizard scrambled to his feet, the raw, sand-encrusted burns that had disfigured his legs entirely vanished.

'That's a good trick if you can do it,' murmured Dev, forgetting himself.

Fortunately, Risala was still transfixed by the scene before her. She jumped as a whip cracked. Spurred into action, the savages punished the bound column of aged islanders for sinking to their knees with brutal kicks and harsh blows. Feathercloak ignored all this, returning to his boat. He didn't bother with his bridge of patterned light, simply sweeping his mantle around himself and taking one long step to travel through the air and arrive dry-footed on the rough deck. Lizardskin splashed through the sea to join him, clutching the precious coffer of carefully selected plunder to his chest.

'Come on.' Dev retreated rapidly on his hands and knees.

'Where to?' Risala's voice shook as she wriggled backwards.

'They're walking that column of captives along the beach.' Dev kept a careful eye out through the veil of leaves as he began walking towards the shoreline. 'I want to see where they're heading.'

'Why do we want to do that?' Risala stopped, stubborn-faced.

Dev raised his eyebrows. 'Your epic wants a middle and an end as well as a beginning. Folk'll be throwing rotten fruit at you if you can't tell them where the invaders took those prisoners.' He jerked his head towards the beach where the captives were struggling to give as wide a berth as possible to the twisted pavement of glass where the bone-decorated mage had died. 'Where are they taking that loot? I deal in information, girlie, I've told you that. I'll get all the answers I can before sailing north again.'

'We'll neither of us be going north if we're dead and burned to ashes,' protested Risala.

'Go back to the Amigal then.' Dev shrugged. 'I might even come back for you, if I don't just steal another boat.'

'You would too, wouldn't you?' Risala took a reluctant step forward.

'You don't want to bet that I won't.' Dev's smile didn't reach his eyes. 'Come on.'

He led her through the brush at the edge of the forest that cloaked the headland reaching out into the sea. The finger of land narrowed to a tangle of knot trees and Dev began pushing his way through the fleshy leaves towards the water.

'What are you doing?' Risala was shrill with apprehension.

'Stealing a boat.' Dev unsheathed his broad jungle knife. 'Hold this. Get it wet and I'll trade you to a flesh peddler first chance I get.' He handed her the sack of liquor and dream smokes before wading cautiously into the shallows. Ducking down so only his head and knife were visible, he half waded, half swam towards a handful of the little boats Chazen islanders used to tend their floating net frames bobbing at the furthest end of a long rope tethered to the distant shore. Breathing easier once he was in amongst the concealing hulls, sawing through the plaited leather was the work of a moment. A breath of magic gave Dev a boost out of the water and he lay inside the shallow boat, straining to hear any shout of alarm from the shore.