One of the other Demons, the female, smirked, and Qeteb make a quick gesture to stop her laughing.

"Lord of ashes only," Qeteb said, and took another step forward, "and Mage-King of nothing but a pack of huddled prisoners." His voice harshened. "What do you here?"

"I have come to deliver you the Sanctuary and all its fodder," Isfrael said. He relaxed slightly. This was going to be easier than he thought.

"Ah," Qeteb said, "a traitor."

"And how," said Sheol, "can we possibly trust a traitor?" She had sidled forward until she stood just at Qeteb's left shoulder.

"I can see that a new world beckons," Isfrael said, "and I merely want to carve out my own niche within it."

Qeteb laughed, but it was Barzula, Demon of Tempest, who spoke. "And now we have hit the heart of it, eh? You want something from us, and to obtain it you are prepared to sell us Sanctuary."

"I am prepared to sell you victory," Isfrael said softly.

"We do not need your help!" Qeteb said, but all the Demons shared the one thought.

Had DragonStar grown stronger than when they'd last spotted him? Sheol's news of what Dare Wing's bravado had done had been more than unsettling, and his disinclination to use any of the Enemy's Songs was ... almost frightening.

He had made no mistakes, and the Demons did not like that at all.

"You need all the help you can get," Isfrael said. "Only fools refuse aid. I am prepared to sell you the assurance of victory."

"We do not need your —"

"You are a fool!" Isfrael shouted, and strode through the circle of stumps until he stood directly before Qeteb. "You've been trapped before, why can't it happen again? Why can't it go one step further?" He stabbed a finger into the centre of Qeteb's chest plate. "What if this land is to prove your grave, Qeteb, rather than your playground?"

Qeteb hissed. "I have learned and grown the stronger for my captivity!"

"And what if the Enemy has, too?" Isfrael countered, his voice quiet, his eyes steady.

"What if the Enemy has, too?"

The Demons were silent, although Barzula, Raspu and Mot had crept forward until they'd joined Sheol just at or behind Qeteb's shoulders. What if the Enemy had, too?

"What do you want," said Qeteb.

"The Sacred Groves," Isfrael said, "and peace within them."

"The Sacred Groves?" Sheol said. "What are they?"

"The Sacred Groves are the most holy glades and forests of the Avar people —"

"We did not destroy them?" Qeteb said, his voice combining both anger and puzzlement.

Isfrael dared a slight sneer. "You know none of the secrets of this land, Qeteb, and there are many spaces still hidden you have not even dreamed of yet."

Behind his visor Qeteb smiled. He could play this idiot like a lute. So, there were other spaces still to be explored and hunted for fodder, were there? And you, with your foolish bravado, he thought, are going to lead us to them all, like it or not.

But he kept the angered puzzlement in his voice, and twitched his fists, to make it all the more convincing.

"Spaces?" he roared.

You metalled oaf, Isfrael thought, the dullness of your armour has spread to your brain. "I want the Sacred Groves," he said. "I want them in peace. You can have everything else."

"The Groves must be very special to you," Sheol said, and she made her voice wistful.

"They contain all that is holy and precious to the Avar peoples," Isfrael said. "The Horned Ones, the Mother —"

Sheol raised her eyebrows questioningly, and Isfrael was foolish and dull-brained enough himself to fall into the trap.

"The Mother is the personification of all nature," Isfrael said, and the Demons instantly hungered,

"while the Horned Ones are the most powerful of our Banes, transformed over the centuries into forms close to that of the stag, our sacred animal."

And all this sounds like good eating, Qeteb mind-shared with his companion Demons. / am sick of cockroaches and sheep.

Imagine the power we would gain from such a meal! Sheol whispered among their minds.

"You want the Sacred Groves," Qeteb said, "but what are you prepared to give U s?"

"The secrets of the Enemy," Isfrael said, and watched in satisfaction as those of the Demonic faces he could actually see stilled in amazement. "Did you know that you have among you," and he indicated the form of Niah still lying behind the trees, "a weapon so powerful that you could destroy the StarSon with it?"

"Her?" Qeteb said, and this time he did not have to feign the puzzlement. "Her?"

"Promise me," Isfrael said. "Promise me the Groves."

"Of course," said Qeteb. "Of course. You have them. In peace, forever and ever. Amen."

"I need assurance," Isfrael said. "I need proof of your goodwill."

Qeteb laughed, low and uncomfortable. "And you shall have it." He leaned backwards, brushing aside Sheol and Raspu, and plucked an apple from one of the trees.

"Take this apple and eat of it," Qeteb said, "and you will know my sincerity."

Isfrael stared at the fruit. "An apple?"

"Assuredly. Eat of it, and you shall eat of knowledge. You will know if I lie or not."

"And the Sacred Groves will be yours," whispered Mot.

"Forever," whispered Sheol.

"And ever and ever," echoed Barzula.

Isfrael took the apple and weighed it in his hand. It felt warm, heavy, inviting.

He could see himself wandering the paths of the Sacred Groves, safe, contented ... powerful.