'I will destroy everything you ever loved .. .' she said, her voice throbbing, her hand clutching her face while the blood gushed between her fingers. The Fugue. The Seerkind. All of it! Wiped away. You have my promise. You will weep.'

If it had been in Romo's power he would have had no compunction about dispatching the Incantatrix on the spot. But delivering Immacolata to pastures new was beyond the power of lion or lion-tamer; weakened as the enemy was, she and her sisters would undoubtedly kill the rest of the animals before they reached her. He would have to be content with what their surprise attack had achieved, and hope that Mimi knew, in her resting place, that her torment had been avenged.

He moved towards the felled lion, speaking soft words. Immacolata made no attempt to harm him, but started up towards the steps, her sisters flanking her.

The lions stood their ground, waiting for the order that would unleash them. But Romo was too busy grieving. He had laid his cheek on the cheek of the dying animal, still murmuring to it. Then the words of comfort stopped, and a look scarcely less than tragic came over his face.

The lions heard his silence, and knew what it signified. They turned their heads to him, and as they did so Immacolata rose into the air, a saint of mud and wounds, the wraith-sisters trailing her like corrupted seraphim.

He looked up as they ascended into darkness, a patter of blood falling. Almost as the night erased them he saw Immacolata's head loll, and the sisters rise to her aid. This time the Incantatrix did not despise their support, but let them bear her away.

IX.

NEVER, AND AGAIN.

The ziggurat builder who'd stood guard outside Capra's House was shouting at them from the edge of the field, courtesy preventing him from coming any closer.

They want you back at the House.' he called.

As they walked back towards the myrtle trees it became apparent that events of some moment were afoot. Members of the Council were already leaving Capra's House, urgency in their step and on their faces. The bells in the trees were all ringing, though there was no breeze moving, and there were lights above the House, like vast fire-flies. The Amadou.' said Jerichau.

The lights swooped and rose in elaborate configurations. 'What are they doing?' Suzanna asked. 'Signalling.' Jerichau replied. 'Signalling what?'

As he went to reply, Yolande Dor appeared between the trees and stood in front of Suzanna.

They're fools to trust you.' she stated flatly. 'But I tell you now, I'm not sleeping. You hear me? We have a right to live You damn Cuckoos don't own the earth!' Then she was away, cursing Suzanna as she went.

That means they're taking Rome's advice.' said Suzanna. That's what the Amadou are saying.' Jerachau confirmed, still watching the sky.

'I'm not sure I'm ready for this.'

Tung was at the door, calling her in.

'Hurry, will you? We have precious little time.'

She hesitated. The menstruum offered her no courage now; her stomach felt like a cold furnace: ash and emptiness.

'I'm with you.' Jerichau reminded her, reading her anxiety.

His presence was some comfort. Together, they went inside.

When she stepped into the chamber she was greeted by an almost reverential hush. All eyes were turned on her. There was desperation in every face. Last time she'd been here, mere minutes ago, she'd been an invader. Now she was the one upon whom their fragile hopes for survival depended. She tried not to let her fear show, but her hands trembled as she stood before them.

'We're decided.' said Tung.

'Yes.' she replied. 'Yolande told me.'

'We don't like it much.' said one of the number, whom Suzanna recognized as a defector from Yolande's faction. 'But we've got no choice.'

There are already disturbances at the border.' said Tung. The Cuckoos know we're here.'

'And it'll soon be morning.' said Messimeris.

So it would. Dawn could be no more than ninety minutes away. An hour after that, and every curious Cuckoo in the vicinity would be wandering in the Fugue - not quite seeing it perhaps, but knowing there was something to stare at, something to fear. How long after that before there was a reprise of the scene on Lord Street?

'Steps have been taken to begin the re-weaving.' said Delphi.

'Is that difficult?'

'No.' said Messimeris. The Gyre has great power.'

'How long will it take?'

'We have perhaps an hour.' said Tung, 'to teach you about the Weave.'

An hour: what would she learn in an hour?

Tell me only as much as I need to know for your safety.' she said. 'And no more than that. What I don't know I can't let slip.'

'Point taken.' said Tung. 'No time for formalities, then. Let's begin.'

X.

THE SUMMONS.

Cal woke suddenly.

There was a slight chill in the air, though that wasn't what had woken him. It was Lemuel Lo, calling his name. 'Calhoun .. . Calhoun .. .' He sat up. Lemuel was at his side, smiling through the thicket of his beard. There's someone here asking for you.' he said. 'Oh?'

'We haven't much time, my poet.' he said as Cal struggled to his feet. The carpet's being rewoven. In little more than minutes all this'll be sleeping again. And me with it.' That can't be right.' said Cal.

'It is, friend. But I have no fear. You'll be watching over us, won't you?'

He clasped Cal's hand in a fierce grip. 'I dreamt something . ..' Cal said. 'What was that?'

'I dreamt that this was real and the other wasn't.' Lemuel's smile faded. 'I wish what you dreamt were true.' he said. 'But the Kingdom's all too real. It's just that a thing that grows too certain of itself becomes a kind of lie. That's what you dreamt. That the other place is a place of lies.'

Cal nodded. The grip on his hand tightened, as though there was a pact in the making.

'Don't be lost to it, Calhoun. Remember Lo, eh? And the orchard? Will you? Then we'll see each other again.'

Lemuel embraced him.

'Remember,' he said, his mouth next to Cal's ear.

Cal returned the bear-hug as best he could, given Lo's girth. Then the orchard-keeper broke from him.

'Best go quickly,' he said. 'Your visitor has important business, she says.' and he strode away to where the rug was being rolled up, and some last melancholy songs sung.

Cal watched him thread his way between the trees, his fingers brushing against the bark of each as he passed. Commanding them to sweet sleep, no doubt.