By now the white smudge on the horizon had become a visible tundra of water and ice. Closer up, the Waste was not entirely white, but marked with patches of earth and grass, at least here at its edge. But beyond this initial approach where the sea blended into pale white and blue and brown and green, huge mountains now loomed up in the distance beyond that looked to become entirely covered in snow. These were surely what they had been able to see on the horizon from afar.

No doubt the sword will be hidden atop or within one of these, Horatio thought gloomily as he looked at the mountains. It won’t be easy to find, will it? And will I be worthy enough to wield it, or is that destiny reserved for “Rossalento Qumbrick Macventa the Fourth”?

Soon enough they had come within striking distance of the Waste.

There was nowhere to moor the ship, or even really to set down the gangplank, so Antonio ordered his sailors to let the sails hang loose and drop the anchor. They then brought out a smaller rowboat from the ship’s hold, which they lowered by ropes into the water, with the party, which now included Ross, Antonio, two crew members to row, and Owen, who wanted to see the Waste up close for himself, all squeezed on board.

The sailors rowed them over to the Waste. As Horatio stepped out of the boat he felt grateful to be setting foot on dry land again–if you could call it that. It was cold and wet here, and as they went further north the ground was going to become covered in snow and ice. But at least

‘Thank you for getting us safely to the Waste,’ Primus said to Antonio, handing him the bag of coins that he had meticulously counted out while they had been rowing overm then stepping back. ‘That is the first half of your fee. Wait for us. I will give you the second half once you have us safely back in Vishay when we have retrieved what we are looking for.’

‘Yes, thank you indeed,’ added Owen. ‘I wasn’t sure how I was going to get here without giving myself away, and I may now be the first Ally of Brax to have made it here. First I should make sure that you have no way of getting back.’

Wait. What?

Owen raised a hand, and blazing red and orange flames leapt out from it, consuming the upper half of Antonio’s body completely. The sea captain barely had time to scream. The fire subsided, leaving only the captain’s legs and the golden coins, which fell to the ground. The rest of his body had been completely incinerated.

Horatio was too shocked to speak.

‘Murderer!’ yelled Ross.

‘Wait over there a moment,’ Owen said irritably, and waved the same hand in a dismissive gesture. This time an impossibly powerful gust of wind buffeted into Horatio and the rest of them, knocking them off their feet and sending them tumbling backwards over the icy ground.

Horatio’s head rang with a bump he took on the way. As he scrambled to get to his feet there was a horrible cracking sound of splintering wood.

When he looked up, he saw that a little way away a spear of glacial ice had risen up out of the sea and pierced the Wandering Heart, splitting its hull and sticking out of its deck at an angle. Wood continued to snap and crunch as it began to fall apart and sink. The sailors who were still aboard it cried out in dismay.

‘What are you doing?’ Horatio demanded of Owen. ‘Who are you?’

At last Owen turned his attention to him and the party. ‘Fools!’ he said gleefully. ‘I am no philanthropist! I am Owen, the great occultic magician and misanthropist! My thanks go to you too for confirming that the Clarent Sword is hidden somewhere in the Waste. It seems I will need to keep the blonde girl alive, to lead me to its exact location! But I shall enjoy killing the rest of you very much!’

He pulled both his hands back to launch another spell this time, and as Horatio reached for his sword-hilt he could only hope that someone would react in time to cast a counter-spell to protect them.

Boss battle: Owen.