The Crippled God

son. How can you not remember, Sandalath Drukorlat? Upon the islands, across the vast seas – you took us in, as if we were your children. Now Nimander is here, begging you to release Silanah – to end the destruction of Kharkanas.’
    Sandalath sneered. ‘I can taste lies – they fill this room. Ten thousand lies built this keep, stone by stone. Remember what Gallan said? “At the roots of every great empire you will find ten thousand lies.” But he was not blind then, was he? I never trusted you, Phaed.’
    ‘But you trusted Nimander.’
    She blinked. Nimander? ‘You are right – he does not lie. What a damned fool, just like his father, and see where it has got us.’
    ‘Your son Orfantal will die, Sandalath Drukorlat, unless you release Silanah.’
    ‘Orfantal! Bring him to me.’
    ‘I will, once you relinquish the throne and all the power it grants you. Once you free Silanah from your will.’
    She licked her lips, studied the ghost’s strangely flat eyes. I remember those eyes, the knowing in them. Knowing that I knew the truth of her. Phaed. Venal, conscienceless . ‘You are the liar among us!’
    Phaed cocked her head, smiled. ‘I never liked you, it’s true. But I never lied to you. Now, do you want to see your son or not? This is what I offer.’
    She stared at the ghost, and then looked down at Anoman— no, Nimander. ‘You have never lied to me, Nimander. Does your sister speak true?’
    ‘Do not ask him !’ Phaed snapped. ‘This negotiation is between youand me. Sandalath, you of all people should understand what is going on here. You know the way of Hostages.’
    ‘Orfantal is not a Hostage!’
    ‘Events have changed things – there are new powers here.’
    ‘That is not fair!’
    Phaed’s laugh stabbed like a knife. ‘The Hostage whimpers at the unfairness of it all.’
    ‘Don’t.’
    ‘Oh, shall I show some mercy, then?’
    ‘Stop it!’
    ‘Very well,’ said Phaed, ‘I will give you this … gift. Retire to the chamber in the tower, Sandalath. You know the one. Lock the door from within, so that no one else may enter. Remain there. Await your son. And when he comes, why, then you can unlock your door. To take him into your arms.’
    My room. My sweet, perfect room. If I wait there. If I hide there, everything will be all right . Tears streamed down Sandalath’s face. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘My son.’
    ‘Will you yield the throne?’ Phaed asked. ‘It must be now. Once you have done that, then you can go to your room, Sandalath. Where you will be safe, and where you can wait for him.’
    There was no end, it seemed, to what could spill down from her eyes. She rose, the dagger falling to clatter on the stones. My room, yes. It’s safe there. I have the lock, there at the door. The lock, to keep me safe .
    Silanah – hear me. I will see my son! They will bring him to me! But first, I must release you. Eleint, you are free .
    And soon, we will all be free. All of us hostages. We will finally be free .
    After Sandalath Drukorlat, making sounds like an excited child, had rushed from the throne room, Nimander looked across at the ghost of Phaed.
    Who stared back, expressionless. ‘I vowed to haunt you. My brother. My killer. To torment you for the rest of your days. Instead, you deliver me … home.’
    His eyes narrowed on her, suspicious – as he knew he would always be, with this one.
    ‘Join your kin, Nimander. There is little time.’
    ‘What of you?’ he demanded.
    Phaed seemed to soften before his eyes. ‘A mother will sit in a tower, awaiting her son. She will keep the door locked. She will wait for the sound of boots upon the stairs. I go to keep her company.’
    ‘Phaed.’
    The ghost smiled. ‘Shall we call this penance, brother?’

    Blows rang, skittered off his armour, and beneath the banded ribbons of iron, the scales and the chain, his flesh was bruised, split and crushed. Withal swung his mace, even as a spear point gouged a score above the rim of his helm, twisting his head round. He felt a shield shatter beneath his attacking blow, and someone cried out in pain. Half blinded – blood was now streaming down the inside of his helm, clouding the vision of his left eye – he pushed forward to finish the Liosan.
    Instead, he was shield-bashed from the side. Stumbling, tripping in a tangle of dead limbs, Withal fell. Now I’m in trouble .
    A Liosan loomed over him, thrust down with his sword.
    A strange black flash, blocking the blow – a