The mage didn’t see the second sentinel racing towards him, gibbering like something from the deepest cells of Scholten Cathedral, but Silus did. He shouted out a warning, but Kelos didn’t seem to hear him.

Silus ran almost as soon as he saw the silver-eyed man, but too much distance still lay between him and the mage. Doubling his efforts, Silus used two low rocks as a launch, stepping from one to another, before throwing himself forward and onto the back of the sentinel. For a moment Silus rode the bucking silver-eyed man as they careened around the boulders, before he was thrown from his back to tumble onto the sand.

Silus looked up to see the sentinel right himself and sprint back towards him, racing across the sand like a rabid dog. He only just had time to raise his sword as the sentinel leapt. The sky was blocked as the silver-eyed man sailed over him, only to come to a sudden stop a foot above him, looking down at Silus with fading eyes.

There was a sound like lips moistly parting as the sentinel began to sink down the length of the sword — his blue blood streaking the metal — until he came to rest, pinning Silus under his weight, his lips pressed against his cheek, viscous blood now pouring freely from his mouth.

Silus struggled to push the corpse from him and retrieve his sword. It came out of the sentinel’s chest in a tangle of wires and translucent tubes. He turned to see Katya staring at him with tired, frightened eyes, holding Zac, silently sobbing, to her breast.

Silus embraced them both, glad to feel their warmth and reassuring solidity against him.