anything about the desertion of ex-Guard Floyd, I hope?â
Skerridge beamed. Innocent didnât come close.
âI see.â Strood smiled indulgently, looking almost affable, even allowing for the quartz eye. âWell, it wonât get you anywhere. Ninevah Redstone is going to die and everyone else with her. I believe people are gathering at Hilfian? Well, my army will start there. And once theyâve torn Hilfian apart, they can sort out the rest of the Drift.â
Skerridge opened his mouth, but Strood put up a hand to stop him.
âDonât talk to me about consequences. Iâm well aware that killing the Seven will reduce the concentration of defined magic and so undermine the integrity of the Land, thus inducing it to collapse into its raw state at an accelerated rate.â
Skerridge glared, his red eyes burning like coals as the evening light began to fade.
âAnd the weaker the Land gets, so the weaker the last remaining shreds of the Seven will become, and so the more Land will die. Itâs a perpetuating situation, a circle of death, see? Or hadnât you worked that bit out yet?â Strood smiled. âAnd thereâs more, of course. Even consequenceshave consequences and the death of the Drift will have its own, too. Look at it this way: if the Raw has been shaped into the Land by all the desires and dreads of the Quick, uncovered from their deepest hearts over millions of years, then what will happen when it is taken away?â
Skerridge looked blank. Deliberately. Inside he was struggling to imagine what would happen to a world where all the agonies of hope and love and hate and fear had nowhere to go. All that electric emotion hanging around with nothing to do except â¦â
It would be like a steam pipe with no vent. He shuddered.
âSheâll stop ya,â he said, his voice heavy on the evening air.
âSheâs already too late,â chuckled Strood. âBogeyman Rainbow has made a fine job of frying Quick in the Widdern, and the Sanctuary must be hanging on by a thread. Bogeyman Rope is wiping out Senta Melanaâs remains and should be finishing the task very shortly
â¦â
Skerridge kept his face as deadpan as possible.
â⦠and Bogeyman Pigwit has dealt with Nemus Sturdy â oh, by the way, I made him Chief Bogeyman you know, he did such a fine job. So all in all itâs looking good.â
âAzork â¦â
âWonât last the night,â said Strood airily.
âVispilio?â
âOh, Iâm leaving him be for the moment, after all, heâs hardly a threat. But I have plans.â
âSimeon Dark?â Skerridge grinned. âYer carnâ do a lot about Simeon Dark cos first off âeâs a livinâ sorcerer â¦â
âAnd how much use is a sorcerer if he doesnât know what he is?â Strood leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. âFor Dark to survive the plague that killed every other sorcerer, he must be so well hidden it is as if he has ceased to exist altogether. And no hiding place is foolproof if someone knows about it, and that includes the one whoâs doing the hiding! Because if
he
knows, then
someone
knows and if
someone
knows then so does the world. And that would break the spell at once. Clever.â Strood sounded almost admiring.
â⦠anâ second,â went on Skerridge carefully, âya donâ know where âe is.â
Strood leaned forward, his quartz eye glittering.
âDonât I?â he said softly.
Silence settled over the scene like a blanket. The shadows had deepened now and Skerridgeâs eyes were red-hot holes in the twilight as he glowered at Strood. His heart sank because in that long moment he knew what Strood had done.
Strood smiled. âI think you will find that knowledge can be an uncomfortable thing. If I know anything about it, which I do, you are now worrying about what
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