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and attempted to claim their souls. The Keeper of Secrets had very nearly succeeded in wiping out the entire blood line of Aenarion during his attack on Ulthuan a century ago. Only Teclis’s invocation of the power of the Phoenix God Asuryan had defeated him and saved the twins’ lives.
    According to Teclis, at least a century would need to have passed before N’Kari could be summoned again, or could reform a body of his own will and emerge from the Chaos Wastes. That time had come and gone. If he wanted to, the Keeper of Secrets could return to this world.
    Tyrion felt sure the daemon would not make the mistakes he had made during his last incursion either. Even for an entity as powerful as N’Kari, a direct attack on the shrine of Asuryan, mightiest of the elven gods, had been an act of self-destructive hubris.
    The certainty of the daemon’s return was one reason they were seeking Sunfang. A mighty weapon borne by the first Phoenix King, it should be capable of harming even a greater daemon and it would give Tyrion some chance of surviving an attack.
    He smiled again somewhat ruefully. By some chance, he meant an infinitesimal chance. He had fought the daemon once and was a good enough warrior to know exactly how little hope he had of beating something like N’Kari, even with a magical weapon. Still, it was better than no chance at all.
    ‘I wish he would stop smiling like that,’ one of the humans muttered. ‘It makes me nervous.’
    Tyrion felt certain that most of the humans had no idea how well he understood their tongue, having learned it in the rougher quarters of Lothern during his long residence in the city. It was a small advantage but any advantage was to be cherished here.
    ‘How much further?’ he asked Leiber.
    Leiber scratched his chin to make himself look more thoughtful. ‘A few more leagues at most.’
    ‘You’ve been saying that for some time now,’ said Teclis. His ironic tone was understandable even to Leiber.
    ‘Finding your way through this cursed jungle is not like sailing a ship, your honour,’ said Leiber. ‘I can’t simply navigate by the stars. Things grow here. Landmarks get hidden. Rain washes away trails. It’s guesswork at best.’
    To be fair to Leiber, he had never lied about any of this, or made any bones about the difficulty of finding Zultec. He had been perfectly open about how hard it would be. He had merely claimed that given time they would find it, and he still seemed perfectly confident that it would prove to be the case.
    ‘So your plan involves wandering randomly through the jungle until we stumble upon Zultec,’ said Teclis. Tyrion gestured for him to stop provoking the human, but self-restraint did not suit his twin’s temperament.
    ‘No, your highness. We will continue to march westwards until we hit this stream here.’ He produced his grubby tattered map from within his shirt and stabbed his finger at the blue line that marked the position of the watercourse. ‘Then we will turn north until we stumble on the outskirts of the city.’
    ‘Your confidence is awe-inspiring,’ said Teclis.
    ‘Look, your honour, you hired me because I had been to the city and could find my way back. You paid for the gear and the guards and the porters and I am grateful. If you want to turn back now, I can’t say as I would blame you. It’s been a hard road and no mistake. But we are so close now I can smell it. And I would advise you to stick with me for just a bit longer and we will reach our goal.’
    It was an impressive speech, made more impressive by its delivery. There was a mad conviction in Leiber’s eyes and his voice compelled belief. Tyrion believed him, as he had all along. He was sure his twin did too, but Teclis simply could not resist provoking the man.
    ‘I am not sure I believe you have ever seen the city,’ he said.
    ‘I’ve seen it, your honour, and I almost died there when those scaly-skinned lizardmen attacked with their poison darts and their