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The sorceries roared to life once again, and Brys saw the Warlock King stagger

The Ceda, Kuru Qan, the s frood

The Warlock King would not survive this And, once he fell, this ancient, pri the e them one and all Outward, into the city An entire people, the Tiste Edur, would be annihilated – Brys could sense its hunger, its outrage, its cold lust for vengeance – this was the power of the Letherii, the Cedance, the voice of destiny, a thing terrible beyond co steady hian to flow froan, slowly, to push back the Ceda’s attack

Those ares Hannan Mosag’s torso began to bend, the spine curving, writhing like a snake on hot stones, newat the skin He shrieked as the power burgeoned through hi at the white fire, tearing its edges, pushing harder, filling half the long, colonnaded hallway, closing on the Ceda, who stood un before his eyes Standing, as if studying the stor towards him

Brys stared in horror as the foul sorcery of the Edur edged ever closer to the Ceda, towering over the small man He saw a nearby colu it had been supporting collapsed doard, only to vanish in a cloudy haze and land in a thud of billowing dust

Kuru Qan was looking up at the raging wall loo over hiestures

A renewed burst of white fire, expanding outward frorey wall

Driving fissures through it, tearing enormous pieces away to whip like rent sails up towards the ’s shriek, as the white flaed to his feet He turned, stared into Fear’s face His brother was shouting so Cruies he had drawn upon fro Insufficient to counter the Ceda The Warlock King was about to die – and with him – all of us …

‘Trull!’ Fear shook hie forward For a throw-’

A throw ? He stared at the spear in his hands, the Blackwood glistening with beads of red sweat

‘From the shadows, Trull, behind that pillar! From the shadows , Trull!’

It was pointless Worse, he did not want to even try What if he succeeded? What would be won?

‘Trull! Do this or we all die! Mother, Father – Mayen – her child! All the children of the Edur!’