"Not long to wait now," she said.

Qeteb twisted about. They were trapped in a length of ice tunnel. What magic had brought them here?

How had he been trapped? No matter, he could find his way out of here without even the ghost of an effort.

Chitter, chatter. Chitter, chatter.

Qeteb spun about again. Who was that? Behind and about him the other Demons snarled.

Chitter, chatter. Who have we here, chitter, chatter?

"Who are you?" Qeteb snarled. He did not like the feel of these beings, these eyes that stared down at him through the thick layers of ice, for they had the feel of ... the feel of free souls.

We are the Chitter Chatters, strange guest. Who are you?

"I am Qeteb, the Midday Demon, and Lord of this land!"

A strange, whispering laughter filtered through the ice. We have no lord, and we have no land.

Only this ice-bound, drifting world. A cruel world. Do you like our cruel world, strange guest?

Qeteb snarled, and struck at the ice roof above his head.

It did not even crack, and he sank back to all four paws, alternatively growling and mewling.

We do not know you, chitter, chatter. But we do not think we like you.

The Demons squirmed about in their confined space, probing for cracks and possible escape. Mot, then Barzula and Sheol, growled.

"I have had enough!" Qeteb snarled, and struck out with his power.

Nothing happened. There was a sense of withdrawal from the Chitter Chatters, and then a probing into the Demons' minds again as they came back.

Chitter, chatter, we do not like you! We were not supposed to disturb any who came here,save Skraelings —

— not whale or seal, chitter, chatter, nor Ravensbund or even any of the southerners —

— Ho'Demi charged us not to nibble at anyone's minds save the Skraelings —

— and he saved us, and brought us to this cruel world —

— and we owe him and respect his wishes.

Are you Skraelings, chitter, chatter?

"I am Qeteb, the Midday Demon, and —"

Why are you here, Qeteb, chitter, chatter? Why do you worm so deep into the ice and disturbus?

The Demons did not reply, but the Chitter Chatters caught the image of the rabbit chase, and they laughed, chittering and chattering until the Demons scrabbled about furiously in the attempt to get to the infuriating creatures.

We may not nibble at your minds, nor may we eat you, for we have promised. Nevertheless,we think we have the perfect home for you, chitter, chatter!

Then, as the Demons felt themselves wrapped in unaccustomed power, and propelled through layers of ice so sharp and cold they felt their bodies torn apart, they caught one last remark from the chitter, chatters.

We thank you for this amusement, Urbeth!

If ever I find out who this Urbeth is, Qeteb thought in some pain-ravaged corner of his mind, I will tear her soul to pieces before I consume it.

They waited for what felt like hours, but which Axis was ready enough to acknowledge was probably only half an hour at most. They huddled in carts, as deep beneath blankets and tarpaulins and cloaks as they could, and hoped they would survive both the deepening storm and the raucous whisperings of the Skraelings.

They were making a frightful sound. In this snow, no-one could actually see them, but their whispering and whimperings and creepings could be heard above and beneath the shriek of the wind.

They were, Axis realised, getting very drunk very quickly on the offerings left them in the snow.

Gods, he thought miserably, hunching as close to Zared, Azhure and Katie under their shared blanket as he could. We should have saved some of that wine. It would have warmed us against this wind.

There was a high-pitched squeal, and a bubbling of laughter. Axis felt Azhure, Katie and Zared shudder, and realised that he had, too.

"Pray gods Urbeth and Ur know what they are doing," Axis mumbled, "for I do not think we can survive either this storm or the terror of the Skraelings for too much longer."

He was about to continue, when Zared grabbed at his arm to silence him. "They're at the cart!" he whispered.

Axis fumbled quietly for his sword. He could feel curious fingers patting at the top of the blanket, sharp, cruel fingers. In his mind's eye he could see the insubstantial creatures, as tall as a man, huge silver orbs glowing in their skull-like faces, and long, pointed fangs hanging down from their over-sized, slavering jaws, their clawed hands picking and plucking at the blankets and tarpaulins that lay between them and the huddled masses of Tencendor.

His hand had tightened on his sword — he could stand this no longer! — when the Skraeling that was investigating his cart gave a sickening belch — Axis could smell the wine fumes through the blankets — let go the blanket, and said, "Oooooh!" in a tone of utter surprise.

And then Axis heard another voice. Ur. She must be wandering about in the snow with the Skraelings!

"Hello," Axis heard her say conversationally, "would you like to see what I have in my pot, wraith?"

Beside him, Katie giggled.

And the Skraeling giggled, too.

Then there came a sound that Axis numbly remembered he'd heard at the battle of Gorken Pass —

the Song of the Forest! The Skraeling gibbered in fear, and then shrieked with such terror that Axis moaned and stopped his ears.

The Song intensified — Axis screamed, hearing Zared and Azhure cry out beside him —

becoming a tidal wave of, not death, which the trees had used at the battle of Gorken Pass, but of retribution such as Axis could hardly bear.

Above all the screaming and wailing — as much of which came from the peoples huddled in the carts as it did from the Skraelings — Axis heard a woman laughing, and he realised it was Ur.

The Demons found themselves hurtling through ice and then rock, and pain filled them and became such a part of their lives that none could possibly imagine an existence without it.

And vengeance and anger also filled them.