"Take a look over the hill crest, friend pilgrim. There is something new under the sun."

Peregrine moved up another thirty yards, keeping a lookout in all directions. He could see the straits now, gleaming rough silver in the afternoon sunlight. Behind him, the north side of the valley was lost in shadow. He sent one member ahead, skittering between the hummocks to look down on the plain where the star had landed.

God's Choir, he thought to himself (but quietly). He brought up another member to get a parallax view. The thing looked like a huge adobe hut mounted on stilts… But this was the fallen star: the ground beneath it glowed dull red. Curtains of mist rose from the moist heather all around. The torn earth had been thrown in long lines that radiated from a spot beneath it.

He nodded at Jaqueramaphan. "Where is Tyrathect?"

Scriber shrugged. "A couple of miles back, I'll bet. I'm keeping an eye out for her… Do you see the others though, the troopers from Flenser's Castle?"

"No!" Peregrine looked west from the landing site. There. They were almost a mile away, in camouflage jackets, belly crawling across the hummocky terrain. He could see at least three troopers. They were big guys, six each. "How could they get here so fast?" He glanced at the sun. "It can't be more than half an hour since all this started."

"Their good luck." Jaqueramaphan returned to the crest and looked over. "I'll bet they were already on the mainland when the star came down. This is all Flenser territory; they must have patrols." He hunkered down so just two pairs of eyes would be visible to those below. "That's an ambush formation, you know."