The Mother knew She was about to die, but She simply couldn't quite come to grips with the concept. She represented the life and well-being of the land of Tencendor, and in the past, even though wars and destruction had rained above and through the land, nothing had come close to harming the land itself.

But now Tencendor lay wasted and barren. The Earth Tree and the forests were gone, the Lakes were dried up, all hope and love had been consumed and translated into the despicable.

All that was left was here, and the Mother knew that this, too, would shortly be gone.

She could hear the Demons hunting through the glades and forests of the Sacred Groves.

The noise was appalling. Trees screamed and tore themselves up by the roots in an attempt to get away from the Demons. The Horned Ones bellowed and roared ...

... and fell, one by one, as the Demons ate them alive and absorbed their power.

The Mother winced every time another was consumed, for She could feel the teeth slice into Her own flesh as Demon fangs tore into the Horned One.

There was a whistling and a screaming in the air: the sound of Death approaching. The sky was being torn apart, the earth destroyed, and the Mother put Her hands over Her face and wept.

Isfrael crouched, one arm flung over his head.

He wept and bellowed at the same time as both fury and fright coursed through him.

Everything he had ever loved was being destroyed about him.

The corpse of a Horned One lay torn apart not five paces from him, and a Demon —

Barzula, Isfrael thought — was tearing into it with the fangs and talons of a bear.

The Demon had, somewhat incongruously, chosen the body of a stag to go with the bear's teeth and claws ... then again, Isfrael thought in some detached part of his mind, maybe the Demon had chosen deliberately.

Now the Sacred Groves were being sacrificed, but for what, Isfrael wasn't so sure. His own stupidity? No! He had done only what he'd thought best, and there was still a possible way out.

"Filth," Isfrael said, lowering the arm from his face, "I need to talk with you."

Barzula stopped and raised his blood-soaked head. "I revel in filth, fool. You flatter me by your ill-intentioned curse."

Isfrael half-rose, meaning to further speak, but something seized him about the neck from behind, and the Mage-King screamed in agony.

Claws sliced down to his spine, narrowly missing the throbbing arteries in either side of his neck.

"Then speak," a voice whispered behind him, and Isfrael whimpered through his pain, for he recognised the voice of Qeteb.

"There is much still I can tell you," Isfrael stammered. "Much information I can give you —"

"When I consume you," Qeteb said, not only tightening his grip about Isfrael's neck, but sinking the claws of his other hand — Mother! What form had he assumed to inflict such agony? — into the base of Isfrael's spine, holding him so high in the air that Isfrael's legs writhed a full pace above the ground, "when I consume you then I consume all your knowledge and memories. Think that I need to bargain with you?"

And he wriggled his claws in even deeper, and Isfrael felt such agony course through his body that he gibbered, begging for death.

"I hold here the trees in my hands," Qeteb said, "I hold here the Mage-King of the forests —"

His claws sunk deeper, deeper, and Isfrael screamed.

"— the life of the trees —"

Far away, tucked into the cellar of her cottage, Ur cackled with laughter. "Not yet, not yet," she whispered.

"— and the hope of the Avar," Qeteb finished. "All ... all ..." his claws started to tighten and clench within IsfraePs body, "at the tips of my fingers!"

And he clenched his claws as hard as he could, tearing Isfrael's neck and lower spine apart.

Beyond sound, Isfrael writhed about Qeteb's hands, his face twisting, his eyes bulging, and ...

... and Qeteb's own eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open, for as Isfrael died, so indeed did the Mage-King's memories and knowledge pass into the Demon's own understanding. Most of them were trifling, concerned only with power and ambition (and these qualities Qeteb already had enough of to last him through the next few hundred worlds he chose to ravage), but there was one thing, one thing that made the Midday Demon caper about, howling and screaming with mirth, for this one memory would be enough to completely destroy the StarSon, even if the man's witches did manage to do well against the other five Demons. A memory that would aid Qeteb into a final victory.

A memory of Faraday and her role in the previous battle for supremacy within Tencendor.

The bait, the sacrifice, that which Gorgrael used in order to distract Axis away from hispurpose to annihilate the Destroyer.

It hadn't worked, Axis was too single-minded, too selfish (not a flaw at all, under the circumstances) to be distracted. Besides, he had truly loved Azhure, and was thus prepared to watch Faraday die.

But DragonStar was another matter. Here was a man much too warm, and far too caring, tolet Faraday sacrifice herself again. He loved Faraday before any other, and he would sacrificeTencendor, and himself, rather than let her die again so alone and terrified.

DragonStar was not the man his father was.

"I have you!" Qeteb roared through the entire universe. "I have you, you weak-hearted bastard!"

I have you, you weak-hearted bastard!

The words echoed through Spiredore, where DragonStar had just led his group.

I have you ...

DragonStar's head jerked up, and he halted halfway down a stair.

I have you ...

"Pay no attention," he muttered, but his voice was weak, and it trembled, and the other four with him shuddered.

I have you...

DragonStar pointed down the blue-misted tunnel that appeared at the end of the stairwell.

"Here ... we are here ..."

He almost ran as he started down the tunnel, desperate to get away from Qeteb's mocking laughter.

I have you...

Qeteb shook Isfrael's corpse until it fell apart, and then the Demon's form metamorphosed, fluid and beautiful, changing into that of a gigantic black raven.

He cocked his head as if curious, his bright, beady eyes flitting about the clearing, then he carefully placed one of his claws on Isfrael's body, holding it firm, and dipped his beaked head and tore into the flesh.