‘Why?’
She frowned. ‘Why what?’
‘Why topple mountains?’
‘Because we can! To show our power!’
‘Why do you have to do something just because you can? Why do you have to show your power if you already have it anyway? Aren’t you even more powerful when you don’t bother toppling mountains, when you don’t bother showing off?’
Envy scowled at him. ‘Those old gods are feeding on you,’ she said. ‘Give yourself to me, Wreneck, and together we’ll turn on them. We’ll feed on them instead. We’ll devour them and take their power. With sorcery you can get to those soldiers, no matter where they’re hiding. More to the point, Wreneck, they won’t be able to hide at all.’ She rose and moved down a step. ‘We could go straight to them. We could leave tonight with none to stop us.’
‘I need my spear—’
‘I’ll make you a new one.’
‘I don’t want a new one.’
Her small hands curled into fists. ‘Are you going to mess up everything I’m promising you on account of a damned spear?’
‘Anyway,’ said Wreneck, ‘Ivis said Lord Anomander was going to talk to the Azathanai about catching you and your sister.’
Envy’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’ve told you too much.’
The serpents of flame reappeared. Writhing, they shot out from her hands, the snake-jaws stretching wide.
Something roiled up in front of Wreneck, luminous and billowing. The twin snakes sank their fangs into it, and Wreneck was rocked back as a scream arced through his skull. He felt the death of the old god like a fist to his chest. All breath knocked from his lungs, he fell against the blackwood door.
Something upon the other side of that door hammered into it, rattling the frame and spilling wet grit from the ceiling. The impact jolted Wreneck and he sagged, stunned and helpless.
Envy struck again, the snakes lashing out.
Another god intervened, took the wounds, and died in agony.
Laughing, Envy stepped down on to the landing. ‘I’ll kill them all, Wreneck! Unless you surrender to me!’
Dimly, Wreneck saw a flash of motion on the stairs behind Envy, and then that form launched itself through the air, landing upon Envy’s back. Arms wrapped tight about her neck, dirty fingers raking red furrows across the girl’s chest, neck and face.
Shrieking, Envy twisted round, as the weight of the other girl, wrapped about her by the neck, dragged them both to the floor.
The other girl howled manic laughter as she clawed at Envy. ‘You can’t have him! You’ll never have him!’
Oh, this must be Spite.
He pulled himself towards the edge of the landing, ignoring the hammering fists upon the door behind him, ignoring the two sisters tearing at each other with snarls and lashing nails. Bruising his elbows and knees, he slid awkwardly down the steps.
Keening, the remaining gods closed in around him.
‘Warn the Azathanai, child! Warn the High Mason! These two, these two … these two …’
The words faded, as if the entire chorus of voices uttering them had been pushed off a cliff’s ledge. Wreneck felt very tired. He was lying upon another landing, half in and half out of the dull light from the corridor beyond. The sounds of fighting and thumping fists echoed down the stone steps still, and he found it hard to believe that no one else in the keep could hear.
He shivered in the icy draught that flowed above the tiled floor of the corridor. From somewhere outside, he could hear the wind, gusting and punching at shutters, beating against stone walls.
A winter storm was upon them.
And the dinner bell was sounding, low, like distant thunder.
Wreneck closed his eyes, and let darkness take him.