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commander relaxed. Instead, Compt’n ur Threshrend had been partaking in his most favoured indulgence: congratulating himself.
    The forested reserve in which they hid – no, in which they lurked , Guyuk reminded himself. Warriors Grymm did not hide. They lurked with dark intent. The reserve seemed to be surrounded on all sides by the towering palaces of the human elite, or what Compt’n assured him were the elite. The calfling royalty, as he put it, seemingly amused by the very idea. The way Compt’n spoke of them, there appeared to be a whole city full of royalty, bound not by ties of blood but by the simple coincidence of their power. It was absurd, irrational, and even worse there were more human cities like this than there were rival palaces in all the realms.
    Much as the greenery set his fangs on edge, Guyuk was grateful for the concealing foliage in which they lurked. The portal was nearby and secured by a half Talon of Grymm. He himself was guarded by a detachment of lieutenants trained especially in the art of close-quarter protection. And, as Compt’n ur Threshrend had just boasted, their plan did indeed appear to be working. The Threshrend Superiorae relayed details from his thralls as they spread across the city, sowing terror and havoc in their wake. The empath assured Guyuk that the humans were reacting not as they had before – checking Scaroth and the Djinn with unexpected violence, expertly applied – but rather with fear and disorder. Guyuk looked forward to leaving the forest and examining the seer stones of the Diwan when they were ready to tell the full story of what he and the Threshrend had wrought. He might not deign to call the execution of Compt’n ur Threshrend’s scheme ‘awesome’, but there was no shame in admitting it was quite impressive.
    ‘How much longer must we remain here?’ Guyuk asked.
    ‘Dude, seriously,’ said Compt’n in the odd vernacular of the first human whose mind he had consumed. ‘You’re harshing my mellow here. I gots to have my quiet if you wants me to . . .’
    Compt’n ur Threshrend broke off and seemed to sniff the air. ‘Okaaay, time to go,’ he said suddenly.
    ‘What! What is happening? Why must we retreat?’ Guyuk demanded, but the recently ennobled Superiorae dar Threshrendum ur Grymm ignored him, hopping down from the stone table on which he had been standing, sniffing at the air, seeking out the thinkings of his thrall.
    ‘Super Dave is happening. And he brought a friend. Looks like Kill Bill ’s samurai bitch.’
    ‘The Dave is here? In this settlement?’
    Guyuk did not need to be an empath daemon to sense the tension which ran through his bodyguards. The Captain of the Guard stepped forth, drawing his blade.
    ‘My Lord?’
    ‘Seriously, how fucking dumb are you?’ Compt’n ur Threshrend whined, sounding very much like one of the calfling prisoners begging for mercy in the cells. ‘It’s Super Dave and he brought a big can of whoop-ass with him. Plenty to share round. The plan is good. The plan is working, but having the Dave and his bitch go to town on ol’ Threshy? Not part of the plan, man. Totally not part of the plan. So let’s bounce!’
    ‘We must bounce?’
    And Compt’n ur Threshrend was off, across the darkened greensward in the strange, half-hobbling hop-gallop of his kind. Bouncing indeed. Lieutenants Grymm closed in around Lord Guyuk, but without orders, or any immediate and obvious threat, they were uncertain about what they should do next. Not wanting to indict himself as a coward like dar Threshrend, the lord commander made a show of ignoring the perverse display. He took the time instead to examine their surroundings. The bodies of the humans they had surprised upon emerging from the portal lay stacked in a large pile, securely bound with wulfin-hide netting for easier transport to the UnderRealms. The bizarre, unnatural sounds of this metropolis of cattle grew neither louder nor quieter. The popping of their