The Elder grasped the Green Man's arm, and held him tightly. And the sound descended.

And then they felt something beneath a sound, arising from the planet of Tern itself, like an exhalation, a countermelody, the ancient of songs, as if the whole planet were chiming to the music of the spheres. Gradually it lifted higher, and met the shrieking mist as it descended. The sky folded and mingled and warped, like an aurora musicalis -- light and music and wailing colours -- and a vast hovering curtain of warring sound, chord versus discord, hung high over the sky of Tern.

Boukey and all the rest of the peoples stood stunned at the sight. He said in a hushed voice, over the musical torment: "You have won!"

"No," said the Elder, "Not at all. We have just held it back. It is strong, we are strong, Tern is strong, but there is a dreadful power ranged against it, and there is more to come. Much more. This is only the beginning." He pulled against Boukey's arm. "Come, you must come with me." And the two figures began to run beneath the dissonant battlefield in the heavens above them.