"Oh, gods!" Faraday whispered as she realised what the Demons had made of the Maze. It was now the gigantic heart of the wasteland and within it seethed a black blood composed of the billions of creatures that swayed to the call of the Demons.

At any moment it would pump those creatures out into the wasteland.

Even as she watched, the Maze appeared to give a perceptible heave, and from four gates flowed four streams of dark, writhing evil.

One of the streams headed directly for her.

Of all the five witches, DareWing and Goldman had the most salubrious surroundings. They found Cauldron Lake almost untouched by the destruction and malevolence that had wasted most of Tencendor. The gold and crystal forest stood virtually unscathed, although some of the outer rings of trees had fallen over and shattered as the forests surrounding it had burned to ash, but, most importantly, Cauldron Keep still stood.

As comforting and as welcoming as it always had been for those it loved.

As DareWing and Goldman walked in, the lizard only a half-step behind, they found a fire burning in a central hearth, two beds made up with feather pillows and deep quilts, rugs spread between deep armchairs and chaise longues, and a general air of welcome for all three.

The Keep had laid a magnificent table: smoked hams, fresh vegetables and herbs, eight different cheeses, five loaves of breads, cakes, buns, biscuits, honey, fruit and steaming tea, and a bowl of food for the lizard set close to the fire.

Goldman rubbed his hands, and sat down at the table.

DareWing just stood and stared.

Gwendylyr, ever practical, merely sighed as she surveyed the destruction of the Lake of Life and Sigholt.

The destruction of Sigholt had been so well managed that, unlike Faraday, there was not even a pile of rubble suitable for a sheltering spot.

Gwendylyr looked about. The Lake seethed and bubbled with pestilence — it literally stank of the Demons — and could offer no succour.

Sigholt's sad remains were of no use.

She turned and studied the Urqhart Hills. Ah ... there! A stream-bed led down through a narrow gully to what had once been a moat. Gwendylyr frowned, trying to remember the old stories of the days when Axis had battled Gorgrael. Hadn't Belial once managed to unblock an old spring in a cave nearby? The lines of Gwendylyr's forehead deepened as she dredged back through all her memories ...

that gully extended into the hills about half a league, and then should end in the cave.

Smiling with satisfaction, Gwendylyr picked up her skirts and moved up the gully, stepping daintily over fallen rocks and crevices as she went. Whatever state she found the cave in Gwendylyr knew she could make it do.

Physically and mentally exhausted, Leagh sank against the stump of a tree just below the ridge of the crater surrounding Fernbrake Lake ... or what had once been a lake.

Now it was a desiccated garden, a maddened, swirling combination of rose thorns and wind topping the small hillock in its centre.

Leagh lifted a hand to wipe a tear from her face, and found it was shaking.

Quickly she clenched it and let it sink to the earth. She closed her eyes, then opened them again almost instantly, still seeing Qeteb striding towards her.

Better the view of this desecration than the memory of Qeteb.

But instead of Qeteb, Leagh saw something step out of the bloodied rose wind atop the hillock.

It was one of the Demons. Sheol, for it had a female form.

And another ... Leagh frowned. Another female? Oh gods! It was Niah, but a Niah indisputably a Demon. DragonStar had been right then. Qeteb had indeed infused the Niah-woman with Rox's soul.

Two more Demons stepped out of the twisting thorns, and then one more.

Qeteb.

Leagh shrank as close as she could to the earth, wriggling slightly further behind the tree stump.

Qeteb turned his visored face in her direction, and Leagh felt, if not saw, his malicious grin.

Tremble not, sweet thing, a voice whispered in her head, for I have other and better prey to occupy me for the moment. But fear not either, for I have not forgotten you. Others will be along to attend you shortly.

His laughter rang out, threatening to overwhelm Leagh, and she twisted away, jamming fingers in her ears and screwing her eyes shut.

When Leagh finally found the courage to open her eyes again, she saw Sheol, the last of the Demons now above ground, step into the hole that led to the stairwell to Sanctuary.

"I pray to every god in every existence," Leagh whispered, "that you have found a way out of there, Axis."

Chapter 38

Sanctuary No More

Through the night and into the morning Axis rode Sal through the frantic preparations, sometimes stopping to murmur encouragement, other times to help lift provisions into a cart. And always he kept turning his eyes to the sky.

In the end, it was the woman he was helping to settle her children into an already crowded cart that suddenly exclaimed and pointed upwards.

Axis jerked his eyes skyward.

Emerald cracks were zigzagging and wriggling their way from a point just off-centre across the entire sky.

As the emerald cracks widened, a sickly silver gleamed through.

"Gods!" Axis cried, and without further ado, grabbed Sal's halter, sprang onto her back, and pushed her forward at a gallop through the shouting, pointing, terrified groups about him.

Six shapes crouched across the chasm that the silvery bridge had once spanned.

They were no longer recognisable as humanoid, or animal, or even as Demons. They were just great, dark, slimy masses of shifting black and pink and orange that oozed pure evil.

There was an outer ring of five crouched about one in their centre. The central mass was Roxiah, drawing on all the power of the Enemy within Niah's body, and using Rox's soul to magnify it and then distribute it to the other five Demons.

And from there, all six hurled it at the enchantments that protected Sanctuary.

It felt good, the destruction of this beauty, and that good itself increased the power of the Demons to the point where they had power to spare, and sent crazy spurts of it out into the universe to dance about the stars and disrupt the harmony of the Star Dance. It knew, that beautiful, melodious power that sang through the stars, that the final confrontation was nigh.

"Urbeth!" Axis screamed as he dashed through his palace and up to the balcony where Urbeth spent much of her time. "Urbeth!"

"She's not here." Azhure: beautiful, calm, terrified. Dressed in a midnight blue robe and a thick, scarlet cloak.

She took Axis' arm. "She's downstairs. On the lawns behind the palace. Most others are down there with her. I've been waiting for you. Where have you been? Urbeth has been —"

But Axis was already moving, and Azhure ran after him.