Within the womb Rox wriggled in glee, punching and kicking, determined to be born immediately so he could savour his victory by feeding on both Niah's body and those of this stupid witch and her pathetic infant.

He would eat it out of its mother's womb! He would!

With all the strength that Niah's body contained, and the impatient desire of the demonic infant it carried, Roxiah lifted the hook, screeched, and in one vicious, lightning-fast move, drove the hook ...

... into her own belly.

"Oh," Roxiah said, with the most surprised of expressions.

Inside its body Rox gave a single convulsion, trying to wrest himself off the steel hook that had curved its way through his belly, out his back, and then back through his chest to emerge just under his chin. Then he shivered, choking in the bloodied fluids of Niah's womb, and died.

Leagh still lay on the floor, staring, stunned.

As the infant within struggled and died, Roxiah's expression altered, and something else entered the horrid face.

Something sweet, and infinitely regretful. Something beautiful, and serene.

Something very definitely "else".

Hello, Niah, said Leagh's baby.

Leagh struggled into a sitting position as the grotesque form swayed above her. Blood was pouring out from the horrible wound in the body's belly, and even as Leagh sat up, Niah took the hook, and twisted it yet further and deeper in.

"Rox is dead," Niah said. "His flesh is tattered and torn."

"Oh, gods ..." Leagh whispered, managing to rise to her feet. "Niah? Niah?"

"None else," Niah said, trying to smile reassuringly about the agony that coursed through her body.

"Come ... ah, the pain! ... come to repair some of the damage I have caused. Come ... come to find some redemption."

Leagh grabbed the woman's shoulders, wondering desperately what she could do.

Niah's head dropped, and her entire body shuddered, but somehow she remained upright.

"Where?" Niah whispered. "Where is She?"

"Who?" Leagh said.

"The Woman. The Woman under the Tree. Where ... ah!" Niah's eyes dropped to Leagh's belly.

"There. There."

Leagh tried to find something to say, but could not. She shook her head slightly, uselessly. Why this tragedy just so her child could be born?

Niah lifted one bloodied hand away from the hook buried in her belly, and touched Leagh's face gently. "There is no tragedy," she said. "For there is only great joy in these events. Lady, will you do something for me? Tell Zenith I am sorry for what I tried to do to her. I was wrong."

Leagh bowed her head. She could not tell Niah that Zenith was dead.

"And tell WolfStar, renegade, that I did the best for him that I could."

Leagh silently shook her head, tears sliding down her cheek. Niah had come home too late — far, far too late.

"And tell my daughter that I love her beyond measure."

Niah tried to say something else, but she suddenly gagged and blood poured from her mouth. She sagged to the ground, and Leagh cried out.

Niah go home, Leagh's child said. To eternity. Home to the flowers.

Leagh bent her head over the corpse and wept.

Katie sat up from the ice woman's lap and pushed the glossy brown curls out of her eyes. She looked solemnly at Azhure, sitting at the other end of the barge with SpikeFeather, who still had his arms about her.

"Your mother has gone home," she said. "Sweetly, innocently, and with a final happiness."

"Welcome, ma'am," said the Butler, and swung open the garden gate.

"Dare I?" said Niah. "Dare I? After all I have done?"

The Butler smiled, and if it were not for the dignity of his position, would have hugged her.

"You are deeply loved and needed, ma'am," he said. "Please, enter."

Niah looked at him, not daring to hope.

"The lilies await you," said the Butler. "And one else."

Niah turned to the gate, and looked through. She stared, unbelieving.

Zenith stood among the flowers, the lilies tugging at her skirts and at her ebony wings.

She held out her arms, as granddaughter to grandmother, and smiled with love and welcome.

Niah burst into tears, and walked through the gate: sweetly, innocently, happily.

Qeteb's fingers curled into the white cloth and he wrenched it off the table with a roar of fury.

He leapt to his feet and tossed the cloth high into the sky.

It fluttered down slowly into the crater.

"Two down," said DragonStar. "And two wins. To me. My girls have done me proud."

And he lifted his head and smiled at Qeteb.

"Cauldron!" Qeteb snarled, and turned away. "There you will fail!"

"Why leave now?" DragonStar said. "Don't you want to stay for the birth?"