then Silus saw it — a brilliant streak of light burning into the heavens, rising from the planet below like a meteor in reverse.
That was a ship carrying Illiun’s ancestors, the last remnants of the artificial race. When my destruction of the planet began, some of the usurpers acted quickly, throwing themselves into the void to escape my wrath. And for millennia they have evaded me, using their technology and their growing knowledge of the void to seek out the places where time and reality are at their weakest, punching holes through space and putting whole universes between us.
But now their means of escape lies in ruins, and it will be you, Silus, who will now be the agent of my judgement.
S ILUS AND HIS companions had grown close to Illiun and his people during the time they had spent together. Katya had helped Rosalind and Shalim look after Hannah, and Zac had become firm friends with the small girl, integrating with the family just as if they’d been neighbours back in Nurn. Not once had these people threatened them. Granted, the silver-eyed men had attacked Kelos and Shalim, but that had been nobody’s fault but the savage world on which they found themselves. In fact, the people of the settlement simply did not have a violent bone in their body, as evidenced by their inability to defend themselves against the Order of the Swords of Dawn. Yet Kerberos was now telling him that they were of a people that had been responsible for the death of an entire race, killing them merely because their philosophy differed from their own. Was it right to finish what Kerberos had started, and kill the few surviving remnants of that ancient civilisation? Silus couldn’t believe that they posed a threat to anybody in their present state.
He could feel the god’s displeasure at this thought even before it spoke. The clouds that enfolded him darkened again and, for a moment, Silus got the sensation that he was being drawn deeper into Kerberos. He fought against the pull, fearful that the deity’s displeasure would mean his dissolution.
Illiun and his people are not just a threat to yourselves, but the whole of Twilight. This dead world that you have come to will one day be your home. You are on Twilight, Silus, but far in your past.
Silus’s mind reeled. The idea was almost beyond belief. Where was the vast ocean that he knew so well? Would this dead place one day be far beneath the waves?
The sorcery that saw the wrecking of the Llothriall clashed with the energies unleashed by Illiun’s ship when it punched its way into this realm, pulling you and your companions back through time to a Twilight not yet begun. If Illiun and his people are allowed to remain here, to breed and grow on this young world, then the life you know, the people you love, will never have been. Katya and Zac will blink out of existence. Everything will unravel into oblivion. There will never have been a Twilight as you know it. These people are not a part of my plan for your world, Silus, and, really, what are the lives of this few, compared with the countless millions? Would you let this handful of usurpers live, at the expense of your own race? They are not human. Remember what I have shown you.
I am sending a creature to this world, one which can remove the usurpers from existence, just as their existence threatens your own. Seek this being out, bring Illiun and his people to justice for what they have done. If you fail, you and all those you love will be consigned to oblivion.
“But why me?” Silus said. “Why can’t you eradicate them yourself, or use the Swords to enact your wrath?”
Because they trust you. I would rather they walk to their deaths voluntarily, unknowing, than fight against me again. They have escaped me far too many times for me to take that risk. This is where it must end, Silus. You must be the agent of my wrath.
Silus was blinded by a flash of light as a storm raged in the heart of his god. A wave of nausea washed over him and he realised that he was back in his body, his heavy flesh anchoring him to the floor. He could hear Bestion crawling around him, still chanting the words that had sent him into the presence of Kerberos. He tried to call the priest’s name, but his throat was too dry and he couldn’t make his lips work. Silus reached out and grabbed Bestion’s arm as he shuffled past, and the priest looked up with a startled expression, before realising that Silus had returned. Bestion brought him water then, and helped him to sit upright. The priest looked as ravaged as Silus felt, his robes soaked with sweat and his face pale.
“Has the Allfather spoken?” he asked, the desperation for any news of his god writ large on his face. “Will He lead us to safety?”
There was a knock on the door then and Katya stepped into the room, holding Zac; Silus noticed that his son had been crying.
“I’m sorry,” Katya said. “You were such a long time and we were getting worried. Is everything okay?”
“Well, Silus?” Bestion said, ignoring the interruption.
Silus looked at his wife and child and realised then what truly mattered; the only thing that mattered.
“Kerberos has spoken,” he said. “Help me to my feet so that I can tell everybody the good news.”
PART TWO
CHAPTER TWELVE
Scaroth wasn’t sure which of his wives he was eating. It definitely wasn’t First Wife, as she was tucking into the carcass herself, glowering at him over the fire as she fed. Maybe it was Seventh Wife. He hadn’t seen her in a few days, although the last time he had she was being more than a little friendly with one of his shamans, so it was entirely possible she was now ensconced in his tent, doing the deed. That was the problem with having over forty wives; it was so hard to keep track of them. Scaroth didn’t feel much guilt, then, when he had to slaughter one to feed his tribe. Food was scarce and times were hard. The only thing left to hunt was a species of toad, and even then you had to boil it for hours to neutralise the poison in its flesh. He had considered moving the tribe on, seeking more fertile land, but he knew from experience that this would be pointless. Everything in this world was dust and rocks. He’d once asked his shamans why their god would treat them this way, but amongst the knuckle bones and entrails they’d found no answers. Many generations had passed since their god had shown his face, and all their prayers and sacrifices hadn’t brought him back.
Scaroth was sucking the flesh from a thigh bone (as leader of the tribe, the best cut of meat was, of course, his to claim) when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wrenk, jumping up and down on his perch at the edge of the camp, waving his arms about his head.
Scaroth put down his meal and stood, looking towards the guard.
“Something’s coming!” came the faint shout. “Something is coming!”
Scaroth looked to the others, but they were too intent on their food to pay much heed to Wrenk, though when the first rays of azure light washed across the foothills, some of them did look up.
“What is it, Wrenk?” Scaroth called.
“Something’s coming!”
Wrenk tumbled off his perch and ran down the slope towards them, still waving his arms above his head. There was no doubt about it, Scaroth thought, the boy was touched. But then, in his infancy, his son had been almost killed by Tenth Wife fighting with Eleventh Wife, claiming that the child was hers. Scaroth remembered well the horrible sound baby Wrenk’s head had made when he’d been dropped on it.
“Wrenk, be calm. What is coming?”
“Burning blue disk, rising over the world!”
“Shut up, Wrenk!” said First Wife, scratching her right tit as she noisily scraped her teeth against a fragment of skull. “We’re eating.”
But there was indeed something coming, Wrenk hadn’t been wrong about that.
The light that flooded down into the hollow was like nothing Scaroth had ever seen. Its azure brilliance picked
