‘Failed,’ sent the minion, no longer wearing the semblance of the High Prince of Devall. Now a clawed monstrosity, the shape-changer crouched on the slagged rim of stone at the top of Dedorth’s roofless tower, while its winged companion soared in balked fury over the site of the conflict. ‘Our presence has been unmasked beyond salvage, with all hope of subtle conquest brought to impasse by a vizier’s ninefold warding.’ The news, and all it entailed, was heard by the bound sorcerer of Gorgenvain, lying wakeful in the king’s bed in Devall. Curt orders returned on the breath of the moment, graven with the demon’s imperative desire: ‘Take down your antagonist, Mykkael, and after him, obliterate the last daughter of Isendon’s lineage…’