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There had to be other entrances, smaller side doors for emergencies. No doubt they would be guarded as well. But he could handle a few guards, surely. If they never saw him coming, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
    Only one way to be sure. He continued on, all senses alert. Once a roaming guard wandered too close to his hiding spot. Without even thinking, Arenadd grabbed him from behind and slit his throat. The man fell with scarcely a sound.
    Arenadd moved on before anybody even noticed the death. A short while later he found what he was after: a door set into the outer wall, watched by two alert guards.
    He killed them both. The first one he struck from behind, reaching out of a shadow to slash his throat. When the other ran over to help his comrade, Arenadd pounced on him and finished him with a quick stab.
    He stepped over the bodies and went to the door. It was locked, but he hadn’t spent years mixing with the seedier side of Eagleholm’s city life for nothing. He picked the lock with the point of the knife, lifted away the bar that held the door in place, kicked it open and ran through to freedom.
     
     
    A t the moment Erian saw Arenadd vanish, his terror finally bubbled over. He ran back and forth along the wall, searching in vain, and when he found nothing, he started to shout. “Where are you? Where are you? Come back here, you coward! Come back!”
    The guards who had cornered Arenadd—or thought they had—were just as bewildered. They searched the wall in disarray, the most senior of them trying to give orders and failing because he didn’t have any more idea what to do than the others.
    “Spread out!” he yelled eventually. “Search the area! Don’t let him get out of the city!”
    Erian heard him through a kind of mist. The back of his neck prickled. The murderer could be anywhere. Watching .
    Panicking, he darted back into the building that had seemed to protect him. Once inside he felt safer, and it finally occurred to him to wonder exactly what this place was.
    Just beyond the entrance hall, the space opened up into a huge round room—a room full of pure sunlight. The air glittered golden, and threads of incense smoke twisted and glowed between vases full of fresh flowers.
    A temple! Of course!
    Erian stepped into the main room, and a new feeling of peace soothed his fears. Ahead he could see the stone altar, decorated with gold-inlaid griffins grouped around a sunwheel. At the centre of the wheel stood a carved man, bearded and crowned, with a long sword in his hand. That was how Gryphus was usually portrayed, but to Erian the great sun god had always looked like his father.
    He knelt to the altar. “Thank you, Gryphus. Thank you for your protection.”
    Sounds from behind him made him turn, groping for a sword that wasn’t there. But there was no danger. Senneck came charging into the temple, all flailing wings and lashing tail. “Erian!”
    He ran to her. “Senneck!”
    She covered him with her wing. “You are not hurt?”
    “No, but listen, something awful’s happened! It’s—” Shouts interrupted him. Shouts, and running feet. He pulled away from Senneck, and there she was. Lady Elkin herself, coming into the temple with the Mighty Kraal close behind.
    “Elkin!” Erian exclaimed.
    The Eyrie Mistress’ reserve and control were utterly gone. She ran straight to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Erian, for Gryphus’ sake, are you hurt? Where did he go? What happened?”
    Not caring about the consequences any more, he put his good arm around her and gave her a hug. “I’m all right. I—are you crying ?”
    Elkin pulled away from him and rubbed her eyes. “Never mind about that,” she said, with just the slightest quaver to her voice. “What happened?”
    The Mighty Kraal appeared at that moment, looming over them both. “You must tell us at once,” he said.
    All of Erian’s fear returned. “He came back.”
    “What is this?” Senneck demanded. “Who came