‘Aphrim!’

Her twin moved in. Caldason spun to face him. But he didn’t meet the blade he expected. Something gleaming and hot narrowly missed his bobbing head.

On the lower floor, Kutch was staring at the ceiling. There were thumps and rumbles from above, and dust was filtering through the boards.

‘What the

hell

?’ the bookseller exclaimed, leaping to his feet and upsetting his stool. He glared at Kutch. ‘What are you two up to? What’s your game, eh?’

All Kutch could do was gape at him.

‘We’ll see about this,’ the bookseller resolved, making for the stairs.

The noises overhead grew louder, and he hesitated on the bottom step. Then he cautiously began to climb.

Swinging a chain in a hissing circle above his head, the glamour twin was about to cast again. The iron ball at the chain’s end glowed cherry red and left a fiery trace in the air. It may have been glamour-generated heat, but it felt real enough.

The chain was loosed; the flaming orb shot in Caldason’s

direction. He threw himself aside, barely evading the blistering missile. It hit a shelf of books, scouring their spines as it passed. The acrid smell of scorched leather pricked his nostrils. Aphrim yanked back the chain and quickly had it circling again.

An irate head popped out of the stairwell.

‘What in damnation is going on up here?’

the bookseller shrieked. He clambered to the top of the stairs and gawked at them, red faced with indignation. ‘Hooligans! You’re wrecking my shop, you philistines!

Stop it!

Stop it now, or I’ll call the watch!’

With a roar, Aphrim swung the fireball at him. It came close enough to blister his nose, without actually striking him. The bookseller instinctively drew back. For a second he stood poised on the edge of the step, arms flapping wildly in a vain attempt to keep his balance. Then gravity took him. Issuing a high-pitched shriek, he fell backwards and disappeared. They heard him thud against every step as he tumbled back the way he’d come.

Aphri tutted and wagged an admonishing finger at her twin. ‘You can’t play with people like that,’ she said. ‘They break.’

As one, they returned their attention to Caldason.

Kutch was at the foot of the juddering stairs when the shop owner bounced down them. He descended like a drunken acrobat, in a confusion of flailing limbs and disarrayed clothing, and came to rest in Kutch’s shadow.

‘Are you all right?’ Kutch exclaimed, bending over him.

The bookseller moaned. He sat up painfully, shaking off the hand Kutch extended to help him. Refocusing, he stared at the boy. ‘You’re trying to ruin me,’ he whined.

‘Of course we’re not. I mean…it’s just a misunderstanding. I’m sure we-’

The fight resumed noisily upstairs. With surprising agility for a member of a cerebral profession who’d just fallen down

a flight of stairs, the man leapt to his feet. ‘You’ll pay for this!’ he raved. ‘Just you wait ’til the watch gets here!’

‘No, don’t!’ Kutch pleaded. ‘There’s no need for-’

But the bookseller was halfway to the door, moving at speed despite a new-found limp. Kutch almost went after him, thought better of it and returned anxiously to the bottom of the stairs.

‘Reeth!’

he bellowed.

‘Your boyfriend’s calling you,’ Aphri taunted. She slashed at Caldason and he parried.

‘Stay away, Kutch!’

he yelled.

‘Get out!’

He was facing both of them simultaneously now. The female tried for a low sweep, aiming at his legs. Caldason leapt over it. When he landed, the pliant floor shook mightily.

Aphri had to retreat to let her partner use his ball and chain. This time, Caldason side-stepped and got himself parallel to it. He thrust out his sword and let the chain wrap itself around the blade. One good tug wrenched the chain from Aphrim’s hands. Then, as a man might rid himself of a poisonous snake curled round a stick, Caldason shook off the chain with a flip of his wrist. Sliding along the blade and off, the ball and chain clanked across the floor. Parted from their glamour host, and energy source, they instantly transmuted to flickering sparks and in short order turned to ashes.

The twins weren’t happy about it. They charged together, looking to overwhelm Caldason. He deflected both their blades. A flurry of pounding swordplay followed as he engaged them in turn, blade flashing from one to the other. Brisk and furious, the three-way duel allowed no margin for error. One slip would be his last.

He succeeded in wrong-footing them, retreated a few steps and grabbed the side of a bookcase. A powerful heave toppled it. Scores of volumes tumbled from the shelves as the massive slab of furniture came down. It landed with a resounding

crash between him and his foes. The impact made the floor shake.

What Caldason didn’t reckon on was setting off a domino effect. The cases on either side of the one he’d felled began to sway, disgorging books. A second later they came down, one after the other, smashing to the floor with a deafening reverberation. Nearby, one end of a floorboard flew up like a child’s see-saw, exposing the rusty nails that held it down. Another followed, imitating a catapult’s arm.

Aphri vaulted each of the obstacles keeping her from Caldason. Aphrim ran to skirt them. They came at him head-on and from the side, and the fight resumed.

The floor was making ominous sounds, the room shuddering.

Then the world lurched crazily.

In a neighbouring street, Serrah and Tanalvah were making their way through the mid-town crowds.

‘What’s going on over there?’ Tanalvah said, pointing to the other side of the road.

A skinny, dark-haired man in a dishevelled state was running along the pavement, waving his arms about and shouting.

Serrah shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Can you hear what he’s saying?’

‘Something about the watch, I think. And sandals. It could have been vandals.’

‘Big cities. You get all sorts.’

‘Perhaps he’s one of those poor deluded people you see talking to themselves on the streets sometimes.’

‘Could be.’

They walked on. The shouting man faded into the distance.

‘You don’t think…’

‘What, Tan?’

‘You don’t think that man could have had anything to do with Reeth and Kutch, do you?’

‘Why should he? What possible trouble could they get into visiting a bookshop? Ah, there it is.’

No sooner had they spotted the shop than a sound like thunder came from it. Clouds of dust billowed from its open door.

Caldason and the twins were still fighting when the floor collapsed. It dropped like the deck of a rapidly sinking ship. Timber, masonry, plaster, thousands of books and three hapless figures plummeted through the ceiling of the ground floor. In a chorus of tremendous crashes the tables and unsecured bookcases fell with them.

A blizzard of countless fluttering pages descended, followed by the fusty grime of ages to garnish the chaos.

An after-the-storm silence blanketed the scene, broken only by the sound of an occasional book late in falling.

‘

Whoooaa!

Do it again! Do it again!’ Aphri, still on her feet, was grinning, jubilant as a child just off a fairground ride. Her glamour twin was nearby, sitting incongruously on a heap of books, cross-legged, an impassive expression on its face.

Half covered in debris, Caldason lifted his head. He found he was still clutching his sword. Disentangling himself from the wreckage, he got up.

‘Still alive?’ Aphrim snorted petulantly.

‘We must rectify that, my dear,’ Aphri told him.

They started to move in on the Qalochian.

‘Hey!’

All heads turned. Serrah and Tanalvah were scrambling over the rubble towards them, and Serrah had her sword drawn.

‘Playtime’s over,’ Aphri decided. ‘Come.’ She beckoned Aphrim.

He ran to her, and