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twin did the same. They unconsciously mirrored each other, like a well worked-out piece of choreography.

      Straightening, expelling a breath, Kordenza declared, ‘Anything you have to say can be said to both of us.’

      ‘We work together,’ the glamour added. Its voice was a giveaway, if one were needed. It had the timbre of sorcery; a little hollow, a touch lifeless, a hair away from humanity.

      Bastorran regarded the pair silently, as though he were weighing whether to deal. At last he said, ‘What do I call you?’

      ‘Aphrim,’ the glamour replied.

      Aphri leaned against a dresser, arms crossed. The glamour, which Bastorran was forcing himself to think of as ‘he’, adopted a similar pose by the hearth.

      ‘Let’s get on with it,’ Bastorran prompted. ‘You’re aware of the nature of the commission.’

      ‘We only accept one kind,’ Aphri said.

      ‘All we need to know is the target,’ her twin finished.

      ‘When you do, you might think twice about taking the job.’ The pun had been unintentional, but neither of his guests seemed aware of it.

      ‘We always appreciate a challenge,’ Aphrim told him.

      ‘It keeps us on our toes,’ Aphri explained.

      ‘Your problem,’ the glamour ventured, ‘is connected with your present state of health, yes?’

      ‘You want vengeance,’ Aphri reckoned.

      ‘Not just for your injuries …’

      ‘… but for the terrible public humiliation you suffered.’

      Bastorran found the way they shared speech as provoking as what they said.

      ‘A stain not only on your reputation …’

      ‘… but on the clans as a whole, and –’

      ‘All right! I’m close to having you flogged for impertinence.’

      ‘You might find that a little hard in my case,’ the glamour commented.

      ‘Looks like we were right in our assumption, Aphrim,’ Kordenza said.

      ‘Yes,’ Bastorran confirmed, ‘it’s Caldason. I want him … destroyed.’

      ‘Hmm. He’s a notorious bandit.’

      ‘A hard man to kill.’

      ‘Some say he can’t be killed.’

      ‘That’s superstitious nonsense,’ Bastorran snapped.

      ‘Perhaps,’ Aphri conceded. ‘Nevertheless, such a commission would require a substantial fee.’

      ‘That needn’t be a problem. Providing your demands aren’t too outrageous.’

      ‘We all know that outrageous is the going rate for this job, General. As to the form the payment takes; we want coin, naturally, but we’ll take the bulk of it as magic. Is that a problem?’

      ‘For the clans? Of course not. But why?’

      ‘Our relationship’s very magic hungry.’ She looked to Aphrim. ‘Particularly as my partner needs all his strength to interact with humans.’

      Bastorran raised an eyebrow.

      ‘All right, to kill them,’ she amended.

      ‘Money, sorcery; take your price any damn way you want. Just get Caldason for me.’

      ‘I don’t want to talk ourselves out of a job,’ Aphri said, ‘but why can’t you do this yourselves? With all the resources the clans have –’

      ‘There are certain restrictions placed on how we can engage with the Qalochian.’

      Her oversized eyes widened a little more. ‘The mighty paladins, limited?’ There was more than a hint of mockery.

      ‘Just technical niceties that don’t concern you. All you need know is that we’ve decided to contract out on this occasion.’

      ‘How do we find him?’ Aphrim wondered.

      ‘You mix with the dregs; don’t tell me you have no sources. In addition, I’ll see you get any clan intelligence that might help. And of course I can offer some measure of protection while you go about your work.’ He was growing testy. ‘Do you want this commission or not?’

      ‘One thing,’ Aphri asked. ‘Does the Clan High Chief know about this?’

      ‘I’m the only authority you need worry about,’ Bastorran returned icily. ‘My uncle’s a busy man. I don’t trouble him with routine trivia.’

      The twins exchanged meaningful glances.

      ‘Be clear,’ he continued harshly. ‘Fail in this, or be indiscreet, and I’ll have you –’ he pointed at Aphrim ‘– negated. While you –’ he indicated Aphri ’– will be making the acquaintance of my master torturer. And be assured that only when you’re completely ruined will he put out your eyes.’

      ‘Sounds tasty,’ Aphrim mouthed quietly.

      ‘I think we understand each other.’ Bastorran favoured them with a chill smile. ‘And forget about my uncle. As I said, he has more than enough to occupy him at the moment.’

       5

      After their brutal taking of Bhealfa, the conquering imperialists of Gath Tampoor demolished the triumphalist structures left over from rival empire Rintarah’s occupation. They replaced them with buildings grander, taller and more opulent..

      Few were as magnificent as the vast construction the Gath Tampoorians erected in central Valdarr. Within sight of the clans’ headquarters, it was in sharp contrast to that baleful pile. Where the paladins’ base appeared grim and brooding, this was celebratory, its every line glorying the authority of its builders. It was a monument to triumph and might. A building that bragged.

      There was magic in its architecture, literally. The stones it was constructed from were charmed, and enchanted dust had been mixed into the very mortar. Pigments used to decorate its splendid stained-glass windows were rumoured to include a concentrate of demons’ blood, the ground bones of trolls and desiccated unicorns’ mane; notwithstanding that such creatures no longer existed, if they ever had. The upshot was that it permanently shimmered with magical energy, and on the ample expanse of its outer walls inspiring images could be conjured at will – the likenesses of imperial heroes and statesmen, explorers and merchants. Icons to hearten the populace, or to remind them that they were vanquished.

      The Gath Tampoorians saw no irony in naming it the Freedom Hall, and it was proclaimed as a palace of the people. Though naturally common folk were rarely permitted to enter, except as menials.

      This evening, fleets of carriages jammed the surrounding streets, delivering an army of grotesques. The comely and the hideous, the fabulous and the whimsical, climbed the stairs, wide as a city block, to the massive doors. Once inside, they were ushered into a series of elegantly appointed reception rooms, then through to the great hall itself.

      The enormous chamber was lit by a score of magically illuminated crystal chandeliers. Each the size of a haystack, they hung beneath the vaulted, gold-inlaid ceiling with no visible means of support. The light they threw made the room’s accoutrements glitter and sparkle. Gold again, lots of it, along with flashes of silver and the crisp glint of gems; precious metals and exquisite jewels were moulded into the decor and furnishings. Beautiful tapestries adorned the panelled walls. Underfoot, the carpets were rich and plush.

      It wasn’t only feet that padded over them. Paws, hooves, claws and suckers walked them, too. Dreams

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