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Binky
glided
through
the
smashed
gates
of
the
outer
courtyard
,
slid
across
the
cobbles
in
a
trail
of
sparks
and
leapt
through
the
ravaged
doorway
of
the
hall
.
The
pearly
wall
of
the
interface
loomed
up
and
passed
like
a
shock
of
cold
spray
.
Mort
had
a
confused
vision
of
Keli
and
Cutwell
and
a
group
of
large
men
diving
for
their
lives
.
He
recognised
the
features
of
the
duke
and
drew
his
sword
,
vaulting
from
the
saddle
as
soon
as
the
steaming
horse
skidded
to
a
halt
.
’
Don
’
t
you
lay
a
finger
on
her
!
’
he
screamed
.
’
I
’
ll
have
your
head
off
!
’
’
This
is
certainly
most
impressive
,
’
said
the
duke
,
drawing
his
own
sword
.
’
And
also
very
foolish
.
I
—
’
He
stopped
.
His
eyes
glazed
over
.
He
toppled
forward
.
Cutwell
put
down
the
big
silver
candlestick
he
’
d
wielded
and
gave
Mort
an
apologetic
smile
.
Mort
turned
towards
the
guards
,
the
blue
flame
of
Death
’
s
sword
humming
through
the
air
.
’
Anyone
else
want
some
?
’
he
snarled
.
They
backed
away
,
and
then
turned
and
ran
.
As
they
passed
through
the
interface
they
vanished
.
There
were
no
guests
outside
there
,
either
.
In
the
real
reality
the
hall
was
dark
and
empty
.
The
four
of
them
were
left
in
a
hemisphere
that
was
rapidly
growing
smaller
.
Mort
sidled
over
to
Cutwell
.
’
Any
ideas
?
’
he
said
.
’
I
’
ve
got
a
magic
spell
here
somewhere
—
’
