

Lodestone

Book One:

The Sea of Storms

Science Fiction

by Mark Whiteway

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Published by Mark Whiteway

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Smashwords Edition

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Copyright 2011 Mark Whiteway

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For Mary Chuey

Prologue

"And so it was, that Kal the wise did beseech Ail-Kar, and Ail-Kar did cast from the firmament the heavenly stone.

The stone of constancy and change; of boon and bane; of creation and destruction"

Blessings of the White Sun, Fourth Stanza, Ninth and Tenth Lines

It was early in the afternoon when Kal first saw the flying rock.

Well, perhaps "flying" was a slight exaggeration; a subtle embellishment that he might have used later when trying to impress his younger brother, or his friends after third-day prayers. It was at least enough to break Kal out of his reverie. Hymarr's reaction was the last thing he had expected.

He had been rehearsing in his mind for days beforehand how he would ask her to accompany him to the Spring Gratitude Service. That morning, as he lay in his bedchamber, before even Ail-Gan, the yellow sun, had risen over the western horizon, he determined that today was going to be the day.

He found her outside a clothing shop just off the curia. She was taller than he was, with long brown hair which hung loose about her shoulders, and large deep brown eyes. When she smiled, they shined brighter than all three of the suns–or so it seemed to Kal. She wore a simple unembroidered red-brown supertunic, woven from a soft-looking material.

As Kal approached, he saw that she was accompanied by two other girls. She seemed to be involved in an animated conversation. He stopped in mid-stride, locked in mortal combat with his fragile resolve. A voice within screamed at him that this was a bad place and time, but something within him caused his legs to start moving forward once again, and a few moments later he was standing in front of Hymarr.

She stopped, seeming to notice him for the first time. "Kal?"

The other girls looked irritated, but he ploughed on. "Hymarr, I... was just looking for you."

Her brows knotted together into a frown. "Excuse me?"

"Are you going to Spring Festival?" It was a stupid question. Everyone would be going. The two girls standing just behind Hymarr suppressed a giggle. "I was wondering if you would care to–"

"No," she interjected. "No, thank you."

"But–"

"No!" Her speckled cheeks were flushed as she turned on her heel and strode away down the street, away from the curia, her tail swishing behind her. Her friends burst out laughing and followed in her train.

Kal simply stood stupidly for a moment. He had no idea what his expression was, but he drew a couple of curious stares from passers-by. Then he turned and began running to get away from the place and time of his humiliation. As he ran, feelings of anguish broke over him in waves, but he only ran faster so as to blot them out. A part of his mind recalled dimly that his father would be expecting him at the smithy, but he did not care.

As he neared the edge of the village, he passed the pen where graylesh were kept. One graceful animal raised its pointed snout from its manger and regarded him. On impulse, Kal vaulted the fence, swung himself on the back of the nearest beast and kicked hard. He was nearly thrown as the creature lurched forward. It cleared the barrier and suddenly Kal was in open countryside. He had a sudden image of the animal's imagined owner and how angry they would be... and then how angry his father would be. But he pressed his mount's striped flanks and urged it forward.

After a while he looked back and saw that there were no signs of pursuit. He caused his mount to slow a little, and as he did so, the valley and its environment began to insinuate themselves on Kal`s senses. It was early spring in the Taskar valley. On either side of the track Kal could see tilled fields, planted with kalash or perhaps moba root. There was no wind, but the air rushed past his face. The graylesh had settled into a rhythmic loping stride, which Kal found almost relaxing.

By now, Ail-Kar, the white sun, had risen in the west, a brilliant point of light, chasing the larger yellow sun across the sky. The latter had already reversed its course in the sky, moving westward briefly, before resuming its eastward course. Dominating both of these in size but not in brightness was Ail-Mazzoth, a huge ball ten times larger than the yellow, its dull red colour looking pale and washed out, due to the brightness of the pale blue sky. Ail-Mazzoth was the Mother figure in Kelanni faith. The ever constant one, who never moved in the sky; who ever cast a benevolent eye over her children. By the grace of the Three, he was starting to sound like an acolyte! The very thought made him laugh inwardly, which lifted his mood a little more.

Soon he had left behind signs of cultivation and was travelling through a land of brown dirt and purple scrub. Although it was early in the year, Ail-Gan had enough power in it that he was starting to feel a little thirsty, although of course, he had no water with him. He felt a twinge of conscience, wondering if his father had discovered his disappearance, and would be worried about him, but he quickly thrust the thought aside. He was not ready to go back and face the music, not just yet.

The path began to rise slowly towards the foothills, which rolled onward and upward in rising waves. In the distance, half hidden by haze, were the jagged peaks of the Tragar Mountains. Kal slowed his mount to a walk.

On the right, not far from the path, were the ruins. They lay in a tumbled mélange of long-forgotten stones. Kal had explored them as a child and once found markings which he thought to be writing, but it was in no form he recognised. His curiosity piqued, he had sought out the acolyte in his anteroom after instruction the very next day.

"May I ask you a question, sir?"

The small chubby man in a grey robe looked up from his desk, and sighed. Many of the acolytes Kal remembered as patient and kind, with a good sense of humour. Golon was not one of those.

"Yes, Kal."

"I wanted to ask about the ruins north-east of here. Is anything known about them?"

Golon blinked. "They are ruins."

If it had been anyone else, Kal would have thought this was a joke. Kal soldiered on. "Is it known who built them?"

"Does it tell you in the sacred texts?"

Kal was far from Golon`s best student. It occurred to him that he was unwittingly setting himself up for a lecture. "I found some writing on one of the stones there."

"What did it say?"

"I don't know; I did not recognize the letters."

"Then how do you know it was writing?" Kal had to admit that Golon had him there. The portly acolyte leaned back in his chair. "Well, I would say if it was not writing, then you are wasting your time, and if it was and those who did the writing suffered destruction, then what they said is of no consequence, wouldn't you?" Golon smiled weakly.

Kal had withdrawn, defeated, like the ruins themselves. They lay there now somnolent, lit by the afternoon suns, offering no more answers than they had back then. Kal set his face, kicked his mount and rode onward, leaving his many defeats behind him.

A little while later, his eyes were following the slow glide of a distant perridon, its wings outspread seeking thermals in the thick air, when Kal suddenly caught sight of a dark shape. It floated in the air some twenty meters from the path to his left. A few moments of observation showed that it was not a hovering bird, nor was it a lap-moth. This thing, whatever it was, appeared motionless, suspended about four times his height above the ground. He tugged on the neck of the graylesh, and the animal obediently slowed to a walk, shaking its narrow head and giving a snort as it did so.

Kal directed the creature towards the object and neatly dismounted. The graylesh, spying a lush patch of purple moss, headed on over and began to nibble at it with an air of complete disinterest.

Kal`s first instinct was to ride back to the village as hard as he could and tell his father what he'd found. However, if he did that, he doubted anyone would believe him. He scarcely believed it himself. Besides, it sounded far too much like the kind of ridiculous story that a young person would invent with the aim of trying to deflect attention from his own wrongdoing and avoiding punishment. And there was something else. Whatever this was, it was he who had discovered it. If he hurriedly left the scene, it might be happened on by another person who would take the credit. So it was that Kal resolved to try and retrieve the strange floating object. But how?

Several possibilities sprang to mind, most of them comic in their lack of practicality. He briefly pictured himself trying to stand on the graylesh`s back, while jumping up to snatch the rock, but there was no way that the animal would stay still for that one. He walked beneath the stone and jumped as high as he could. The gravity allowed him to jump over twice his own height, but it was evident that he was not going to reach it that way.

He cast his eye about the immediate area. It was an area of rough heath land and small hillocks–wild, but unremarkable. He walked a short distance, looking on the ground for something he might use. Stones, but they were all too small. Then, suddenly he spied something. He pulled it loose from the sandy soil–an irregular fist-sized flint. He hefted it in the palm of his hand. Perfect.

He walked up, stretched back his arm and aimed at the airborne enigma. On the sixth attempt, he heard a "clack", as the missile made contact. To his surprise, the floating rock was knocked sideways and fell to the ground, tumbling end over end until it rolled to a stop.

Kal walked over to where it lay, lowering himself to his haunches. It was almost jet black in colour, about twice the length of his hand. He touched it cautiously. It was slightly warm and smooth, with deep imprints into which he could have fit two of his slim fingers. He lifted it, half expecting it to go flying off on its own again, but it had apparently grown tired of its aerial activities, and sat obediently in his hands like a....rock.

Ail-Gan was moving towards the eastern horizon, signalling the onset of late afternoon. It was time to return. Kal carefully re-mounted the graylesh and stuffed the flying rock inside his tunic. It felt warm against his leathery olive skin. Whatever the thing was, he hoped it might get his father's attention–maybe even deflect some of his wrath. He directed his mount towards the path and then right toward the village of Halceron, all thoughts of Hymarr gone.

Overhead, Ail-Kar, the white sun, gleamed mischievously.

Chapter 1

"He comes!"

A knot of a dozen or so Kelanni villagers stood in the market courtyard, eyes raised skyward. Dark clouds roiled overhead and the rain was persistent, running down their faces and into their eyes, making it difficult to see. At the edges of the courtyard, almost melted into the shadows, were many others pulled by curiosity and repelled by apprehension. In the centre, four downcast youths stood at either side of two laden wooden carts.

As they watched, a shadow moved across the expanse, growing silently, rapidly. It resolved into the shape of a Kelanni, dark cloak flared outwards like a bird with a single great wing. He dropped from the sky with a terrible grace and landed in the space before the knot of villagers, with the cart to his back, the cloak settling about his shoulders. He stood erect, raindrops trickling down his dark olive cheeks like false tears. Close cropped dark hair bristled on his scalp and down the back of his neck. His right hand grasped a dark wooden staff, diamond blades at each of its ends. His tail flicked from side to side.

He walked forward and cast the fold of his cloak to one side, lifting his left hand. The first three fingers were raised; the other two were bent downwards.

"Fealty and service to the Three," he announced. His voice was hard, confident.

"Fealty and service," chorused the group, raggedly.

"Which of you is headman?"

A middle-aged villager dressed in plain tan jerkin and breeches stepped forward. He was balding, with a thin, lean face and a thin, lean voice. "I am called Boran. May I know the name of Prophet's Keltar?"

The dark man ignored him, and turned to the carts. "Why are these not harnessed to graylesh? Were you expecting my soldiers to drag them all the way to Chalimar? Or perhaps you had that privilege in mind for these children of yours? They look to me as if they could scarcely lift a plate of food."

The man called Boran broke in solicitously. "Forgive me, Lord. Your presence was not expected for another half hour. The animals are being led here as we speak."

There was a rhythmic tramping from the entrance to the market place. A dozen soldiers entered in ranked pairs, causing villagers to push against one another in their efforts to scatter. The fact that the Keltar had been willing to descend from the sky alone and ahead of his escort seemed only to reinforce his contempt for the villagers.

Following them were two men, each leading a graylesh. They proceeded to harness the animals to the carts whilst the Captain of the escort barked orders and the soldiers took up position at the rear and van. The rain began to ease a little and with it, the drumming of raindrops against the packed earth. As the clouds parted slightly, the dull reddish glow of Ail-Mazzoth began to seep through like a wound.

Boran took a nervous step forward. "May I offer my Lord some refreshment at my home? I would be honoured indeed–"

The Keltar turned without a word and struck Boran with the back of his left hand. The headman went down, sprawling in the dirt. No-one moved to help him.

The Keltar turned back to the carts. "Get these things out of here," he bellowed.

"Hold!" cried a voice from above.

Perched on the rooftop, a hooded figure could be seen, limned against Ail-Mazzoth`s reddish glow. The figure leaped from the gable, dark cloak flaring behind him, and landed in a crouch in front of the Keltar. He straightened and pushed back his hood. The stranger was tall, with hard-set blue eyes and a mouth that quirked slightly, as if ready to smile at any moment. His speckled olive face was topped by waves of sandy hair. His right hand gripped a diamond tipped staff, like the Keltar`s.

The soldiers went for their weapons but were stopped in their tracks by the Keltar, who raised his left hand without taking his eyes from the stranger. "Who are you?" he barked. "What is your business here?"

The stranger nodded at the carts and the dejected looking youths. "May I ask where you are taking these?"

"I am the Prophet's Keltar. His word is not to be questioned by anyone. I will know who you are and how you bear the trappings of Keltar. Answer me!"

The ensuing silence was filled only by the light drumming of raindrops, and the impatient snorting of the graylesh. The townspeople stood like statues in the deep crimson and black shadows of the courtyard. Puddles were forming surreptitiously in small depressions in the earth.

"Who I am, is... unimportant. I would ask that you release these young people." The stranger's tone was firm and even.

"Impossible! This is the Prophet's tribute." The Keltar pointed his staff at the stranger. You will surrender that cloak immediately, and accompany us to the keep at Chalimar for questioning." The Keltar had moved his hands either side of the balancing point of his weapon.

"I regret that I must decline the Prophet's kind invitation." The stranger gave a slight bow, giving his reply a mocking edge. "I must also insist that the young people remain here. I am sure the Prophet will not miss them."

"You will come with us. Now," the Keltar bellowed, propelling himself forward and swinging his staff at the other's head. The stranger took a step back and brought up his staff with both hands to parry the force of the blow. The two staffs collided with a crack and they stood, locked together in a strained tableau, as if preparing to decide the fate of their world.

~

Filthy barrog-swine! Shann`s pale olive cheeks flushed, and her intense hazel eyes blazed like twin suns. She stood beneath the overhang of a fruit vendor's stall, dressed in her slate grey kitchen hand's garb. Small, even for her age, she had a delicate chin and a delicate mouth that would have seemed pretty if she smiled, which she seldom did.

She watched as the Keltar fell from the sky and began shouting demands. She saw the cloaked figure knock Boltan to the ground and felt the force of the blow. Her hand moved involuntarily to her face as she recalled the day the Prophet's soldiers had come for her parents.

She was no more than eight turns of the season. A small round face, eyes streaked with tears, she had clung desperately to her mother's tresses, howling in confusion, until a soldier lost patience and pried her loose, knocking her to the ground with the back of his leather gauntlet. She never saw her parents again.

Not long after that, her life at the Inn began. Poltann and Gallar, who were distantly related to her, had decided to take her in, in return for which she was expected to work. The kitchens were hot and stifling and the work was hard, but she had not been treated unkindly. She had asked about her parents, of course, but had never received a direct answer. It bothered her that she could not recall their faces clearly. Some nights she lay in her cot desperately trying to remember, as if the mental effort would somehow bring them back, and they would stand before her and take her home and all would be as it was. She rubbed her cheek.

She heard a cry from a rooftop east of the courtyard. Her eyes followed the other bystanders, as another Keltar descended through the falling rain and alighted in front of the first. She strained to listen to the interchange, but the newcomer was more softly spoken and hard to make out above the drumming of the rain. She thought she heard him demanding that the tributes be set free. Suddenly the first Keltar leaped towards the second, their staffs clashing furiously. Her eyes widened in disbelief, transfixed by the scene as the two men strained together.

Suddenly, the tall stranger shoved with all his strength, causing the other to stumble backwards, and then flared his cloak, leaping into the air. The other Keltar recovered his balance and followed suit. They met in mid-air and the courtyard rang with blow and counterblow, as their staffs repeatedly made contact.

By now the crowd in the courtyard had woken as if from a dream. There were screams. Most were backing away, or trying to escape through the nearest street or alleyway. The graylesh were shifting nervously. The soldiers' hands were at the hilts of their weapons, but they seemed unsure whether they should disobey their previous instructions and try to intervene somehow. Shann stood her ground, following every motion, as if her life were wagered on the outcome.

The first Keltar grasped one end of his staff and viciously thrust the diamond pointed tip towards the stranger. The stranger avoided the thrust, tumbling through the air as he did so. He landed awkwardly, falling to his side on the rain soaked ground. Shann heard herself gasp as the first Keltar descended rapidly. As he did so, he reached into a hidden recess and drew out a small silver coloured globe, hurling it to the ground. The silver ball bounced once and rolled to a halt in front of the stranger. It was emitting a whine, which steadily rose in pitch then exploded in a blinding white flash. The stranger raised his left arm against the blast. He shook his head, scrambled to get his legs under him and rapidly backed away to Shann`s right. She could see that the side of his face was smeared with mud. He pressed his eyes shut and shook his head once again. The first Keltar landed gracefully and began whirling his staff hand over hand in front of him, like a spinning shield. "Surrender now, or die!" Shann heard him cry. He brought the spinning staff to a halt, grasping it with both hands in front of him, and then rushed at the stranger again.

The stranger had planted his legs and held out his staff, so as to meet the blow head on. However, the first Keltar reversed one hand on the staff, and met the stranger's weapon with an upward, twisting motion, which tore it out of his grasp. Shann watched as the staff sailed through the air and landed with a splat a few steps from where she was standing. Without thinking, she ran forward, bent down and grabbed the staff.

The stranger was stumbling towards her; behind him the first Keltar was advancing in their direction in an unhurried fashion. Shann sprinted towards the stranger, holding out the staff and as he took it, their eyes met. His were blue and sharp as sapphires. One side of his face was smeared with dirt and the other cheek was scratched. His sandy hair was plastered to his head by the rain. He smiled at her in a quizzical fashion; then spun round to face his opponent once more. Shann backed away. The combatants briefly circled one another in silence as the rain gently fell.

The first Keltar launched another frontal assault, but this time the stranger was ready. He feinted to the man's left. The first Keltar brought his staff down on empty space, whilst the stranger ducked low to the man's right and behind him, slashing with his staff. The diamond blade connected with the upper part of his cloak, raking across it and tearing it to ribbons. The first Keltar howled with rage and spun on his attacker. The stranger sprang away but was a fraction of a second too late. The first Keltar swung his weapon from one end, gaining maximum reach, the blade slicing through the stranger's side as he turned. The side of his mouth twisted in triumph.

Clutching his side, the stranger, ran toward Shann. He reached inside a pocket and grabbed Shann`s wrist, pressing something into the palm of her hand. The object was cold and sticky. As she closed her fingers around it, he breathed one word into her ear. "Run!"

The stranger took a step back and jumped, pressing something at his left shoulder. His cloak flared outwards and he rose up, landing on a rooftop behind her. He leaped once more and was gone. The first Keltar jumped and touched his shoulder, but his ruined cloak stayed flat. He fell to the ground, stumbling forward and uttering a curse.

The Keltar turned his face to the rooftop where the stranger had disappeared, and then towards Shann. There was a flash of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder, which seemed to rouse Shann from her stupor. She turned on her heel, and bolted down the nearest alley.

The Keltar pointed his staff and yelled at the soldiers. "After her!"

~

Shann pelted down the narrow alleyway, her heart pounding like a smith's hammer. She could hear the cries and curses of the pursuing soldiers, but resisted the urge to turn and look. She concentrated instead on avoiding the boxes, barrels, bits of wood and other detritus that littered the passageway. There was a crash and a splintering sound behind her, followed by more cursing.

Shann's mind began to race. Corte was her town, the town she had been born in, lost her parents in, made friends in, lived and worked in. She knew every building, every street, every stone in the place, or so it seemed. Her internal map kicked in. Two thirds of the way down the alley, the way was intersected by another passage, which ran along the rear of the properties facing Arian Street. Narrow twisting routes were likely to give her an advantage. Fortunately, Corte had more than its fair share of those.

She ducked left and sprinted on past the backs of the squat houses with their stone roofs. The Inn where she worked was three streets over. Can't lead them there.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of tramping boots from a connecting passageway up ahead. She froze in panic. You fool, she thought to herself angrily. Some of the soldiers had obviously made for Arian Street, and then cut back through the next alleyway to head her off. They had her trapped.

Shann cast about wildly. To her left was a sheer stone wall; to her right, a fence leading to a back yard–her only option. She jumped, grabbing the rough wooden panel with both hands. Hauling herself up, she scrambled over and dropped to the other side, landing awkwardly. Pain lanced through her right ankle. She grimaced, cursing her own stupidity again, and hobbled towards the building, her teeth clenched.

She could already hear a commotion in the alley. The rain had all but stopped, and the sky was starting to clear. By Ail-Mazzoth`s dim red light, she saw double doors low to the ground. She pulled at a handle and a door creaked open to reveal the top of a ladder descending into darkness. Shann lowered herself into the gap and quickly pulled the door shut over her. Using two hands and her one good leg, she descended until her foot felt level ground.

The air smelt musty. Her Kelanni eyes adjusted quickly to the lower light and she spied what looked like a pile of wood in one corner. Shann hopped over to it and dropped down, behind the pile. Her pounding heart began to slow a little. Her ankle yelled for attention but she ignored it. She pulled some pieces of wood over her and lay still.

Voices. "...climb ...are you sure? Captain, over here!" A scuffing of boots against earth. The door to the basement creaked open. "Berin, bring a tinderbox, quickly." The sound of a match flaring. Shann tried to make herself smaller, pressing herself into the earth.

Then another voice. "What are you doing there?"

It must be the owner, Shann thought, none too happy at the invasion of his property. The cellar door banged shut. Muffled voices continued outside. I have to get out of here, now. Next to the wood pile, steps led up, no doubt to the main part of the property. There was a risk that she might run into someone who would raise the alarm, but she had no other choice. She shucked off her wood covering, and struggled up the steps. Lifting the latch, she opened the door as slowly as she dared and then slipped through into a dim unlit room. The door at the other end led to a narrow hallway. She limped down the hallway, opened the door at the end and she was in Arian Street.

She looked rapidly this way and that, but the street was deserted. Must get to the Inn, she thought determinedly. Hobbling as fast as she could and breathing hard against the pain, Shann headed for the only place she knew as home.

~

Shann slipped into the Inn's back entrance, closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment. Her kitchen garb was wet through and heavy and stuck to her skin. Her short black hair was soaked and matted. Exhausted, she closed her eyes. Have to keep moving. She bent down and massaged her ankle. It felt swollen, but the pain didn't seem as bad. She moved through the kitchen and climbed the stairwell at the side. Her small sleeping room was at the end of the hallway. Inside, she lit the tiny lamp and grabbed a cloth bag, throwing it on her cot. Then she moved about quickly, locating a change of clothes and her few meagre possessions.

The door to her room opened and Gallar stood at the entrance. She was short and slight like Shann, her face lined with age but kindly. Her white hair was tied straight back. She wore a tan nightgown and bore a handheld lamp. As the flickering light fell on Shann, Gallar`s face fell in concern. "What happened? You look terrible."

Shann felt a lump rise in her throat, but she didn't look up. Instead, she continued shoving things into the bag. "I have to go away for a while, Gall."

"What do you mean?"

"I have to go away. I will be back as soon as I can."

"Where are you going?"

"Lind."

"Lind, why Lind?"

"It's just... something happened tonight and I have to leave."

"Why? What happened?" Gallar stepped into the room. Shann turned to face her, putting pressure on her bad ankle and wincing as she did so.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing." Shann turned away again, but Gallar grabbed her by both shoulders, forcing Shann to face her. Her visage was etched in concern.

"What happened to you?"

Shann swallowed. "I tried to help a man, and now there are soldiers chasing me."

"Man–what man?"

"I don't know. Look Gall, I don't have much time."

Gallar looked at the girl intently, seeming to come to an inward decision. She released the girl's shoulders. "Wait here," she said, and ducked out through the door.

Released, Shann`s muscles seemed to give way. She sat down hard on her cot, her head bowed. She shut her eyes, and her mind replayed the events in the courtyard, but they were like shards; the shattered pieces of a dream that made no sense. Who was the stranger? Why would Keltar, the eyes and ears of the Prophet himself, fight one another? But in truth, it was her own actions that confused her the most. She had moved without hesitation to come to the aid of a man whose life and motives she did not know, only that he seemed to be willing to fight for people who were powerless to help themselves. People like Shann herself.

With a start, she suddenly recalled the object he had pressed into her hand. She opened her eyes. I must have dropped it in the confusion, she thought. Her hand went to the pocket at the front of her dress and she felt a hard shape. She had not even remembered putting it there. She reached in and pulled it out. It seemed to pull away slightly as if it had some built-in resistance. A disk, less than half the size of her palm, it was stained with a hardened, milky white substance. Blood. She recalled that the stranger had been injured before his escape.

A basin lay near her cot, with a little water in it. She rinsed the blood off, clouding the water, and dried the disk on her dress. The disk was ebony black; featureless, with no markings of any kind. It seemed too smooth to the touch–her finger appeared almost to slide off it. And there was something else. As she viewed it from different angles, it seemed to have a depth that her eye could not quite grasp. Dark curves and whorls appeared to move over its surface...

There was a sound at the door, and Shann hastily thrust the strange object back into her pocket. It was Gallar, bearing a basin filled with fresh water and what looked like towels. Without saying a word, she began to help Shann clean off the excesses of dirt and grime. Shann changed her clothing, and then Gallar turned her attention to the girl's bruised ankle. She produced some white bandage material.

As she wrapped the bandage carefully around the affected limb, Shann suddenly felt like a little girl again. It was not much more than a turn of the season after Gallar and Poltann had taken her in that she had fallen headlong while playing. She grazed both knees, and arrived at the kitchen door howling. The woman named Gallar had bathed her cuts and then, without a word, had rocked the little girl in her lap until she fell silent.

She sat silent once more as the older woman worked. "This may hurt a bit." She tightened the bandage and tied it off. Shann did not wince.

Gallar stood up, brushing down the front of her dress. "The soldiers are searching house by house from Arian Street. Take this." Shann glanced inside the small sack, and saw bread and fruit. Gallar continued hurriedly, "Go down to the stables. Take the graylesh that is already harnessed. Go south to Fiveway Point, then head for the western gate." Shann looked down and nodded. Her eyes started to well up with tears. This woman, though not her mother, had been a mother to her in every way that mattered. Gallar took the girl into her arms, and the two held each other fast and wept silently for a long moment.

They parted, and Shann wiped away the tears with the back of one hand.

"Promise me you will come back." Gallar's voice was pleading.

Shann had no idea when or how she might be able to fulfil it, but she gave her answer without hesitation. "I promise."

Chapter 2

Keris sat straight in the saddle and checked her bearings. Ail-Gan, the yellow sun, was already climbing high in the sky. The huge ball that was Ail-Mazzoth loomed motionless as ever, a dull crimson, transected by dark bands. Ail-Kar, the white sun, lay beneath the western horizon, but would be rising ere long.

She gazed off to the left, searching for Dagmar Tower. She spotted it, jutting up through the morning haze, and noted its position relative to the road on which she was travelling. She pursed her lips. This won't do at all.

Kicking the graylesh`s striped sides, she urged the animal into a loping stride, and caught up with the van of a small convoy, consisting of two loaded wooden carts pulled by graylesh and four dejected looking "tribute" captives, two male and two female. The captives were flanked by two soldiers in leather armour, augmented by iron studs. Four more soldiers were posted to the front and rear.

Keris rode to the front of the line, and shouted, "Rodann!"

One of the soldiers turned to face her, his armour dusty from the road. He had shoulder length dark hair, a hawkish face, and eyes that squinted against the suns as he looked up at Keris. "My Lady?"

"Rodann, pick up the pace. At this rate, we won't gain Chalimar Keep until dusk."

"Yes, my Lady." He turned to the others and began barking orders. Animals and people were urged forward roughly. Keris cast her eyes over those who had been designated "tribute," honoured with the privilege of entering into the service of the Prophet. They did not look very privileged. They shuffled along with heads and eyes downcast, half-blinded by the dust from their passage. They appeared dirty, dishevelled and uncaring. Keris wondered what their lives had been before. Farm workers, artisans, herdsfolk–it hardly mattered. All of that was gone now. Some might be engaged as servants at the keep. More likely they would end up at the ore camps in the Southern Desert or one of the processing facilities. She noted in passing that each of them wore a harness, tied at the back, with a breastplate at the front. She had not seen tributes arrayed that way before, but keeping them in order was the province of the soldier Captain, and she did not feel inclined to inquire into such minutiae.

Keris turned away from the convoy, and urged her mount forward, riding ahead a short distance. Pulling up, she scanned the road ahead. A cloud of dust was approaching from the other direction. Gradually, it resolved into a slow moving cart.

She heard Rodann`s voice behind her. "A wagon, my Lady."

"I can see that, thank you."

Rodann caught up to her position and stood by her mount's flank. "The silver, my Lady. We have standing orders to search all transports leaving Chalimar."

Keris did not respond. Her face was expressionless as she watched the cart's languid approach. It was pulled by a scrawny looking graylesh and seemed to have three... no, four occupants.

Rodann pressed on. "Should I apprehend them and have my men conduct the search?"

If these are silver thieves, then they have surely fallen on hard times, thought Keris wryly. About a week ago, an official convoy bearing silver astrias to Chalimar had turned up one strongbox short. In Keris` opinion, it was far more likely to have been a bookkeeping error than an organised theft, but the order had gone out to conduct random stop and search nonetheless.

Keris turned to face Rodann. "No, we have lost too much time already. You will take charge of the escort and make best speed towards the Keep. I will conduct the search and catch up with you in due course."

Rodann nodded and made to re-join the caravan. The track ahead carried on straight for a distance, and then bore to the left and came back on itself as it started to rise through a canyon, to the higher ground on which Chalimar stood. If she forsook the road, she could cut across country, and meet up with the convoy farther ahead, but there were gullies and ravines in that direction–too difficult a terrain to ride a graylesh over.

She dismounted and started to rummage through one of the saddle packs, retrieving her flying cloak. It was neatly folded, of a close woven material and black as pitch. To the Kelanni it was a symbol of the Prophet's authority–something to be feared. She was sure it was for that reason that many Keltar seemed to wear their cloaks constantly, even when eating or performing routine duties at the keep. To Keris it was a tool, nothing more. Besides, she found the harness and shoulder mechanism heavy and restricting.

She swept the cloak free, and draped it over her shoulders, making the necessary shoulder and harness attachments. The soldiers marching by regarded her as if she were a curiosity–a stranger in their midst. Which is exactly what I am. She salvaged another small canvas bag and briefly checked the contents before tying it about her waist. Preparations complete, she handed the reins of the graylesh to one of the soldiers.

Waving the convoy on, she stepped in front of the oncoming cart, with one hand raised.

"Hold!"

The cart pulled to a halt. Keris moved to the side. The cart was drawn by a graylesh, but the animal looked half starved. Its normally graceful snout seemed unnaturally thin and sunken, and Keris could see its ribs poking through. The Kelanni seated in the cart did not seem to have fared much better. The driver had a young face, made to seem prematurely aged by lines born of work and worry. He wore a rough shirt and shabby trousers. Behind him were a woman–his wife, it seemed, and two girls. It was the girls who caught Keris` eye. They were both barefoot and had long, untidy fair hair. One, the younger, was clutching her mother as if it meant her very life. The older sat by herself and eyed Keris with what looked like pure defiance. That could so easily have been me, Keris couldn't help thinking.

"Name and destination."

"Amion." The man`s voice was a thin rasp. "We are headed for Saria. We were hoping to find field work on one of the estates." Amion`s wife shifted uncomfortably, but the older daughter was unmoving, not taking her eyes off the Keltar.

"You are from Chalimar?"

"Yes, Keltar."

"There has been a theft at Chalimar. I will be conducting a search of your goods."

"But Keltar," his pitch rose to a thin pleading. "We have nothing of value!"

"Get down, please."

The man climbed down resignedly and helped his family to disembark. The younger daughter still clung to her mother and looked as if she were about to burst into tears. Why am I doing this, thought Keris? Words about duty and appearances being deceptive came to mind, but sounded hollow and unconvincing in her head. Nevertheless, she was thorough and methodical. The family stood by, not daring to make a sound. Their possessions were meagre indeed; mainly worn-out bedding and worn-out clothes. She found no money and certainly no silver. She stepped back and motioned for the family to climb back into their cart. "On your way!"

Keris made to turn away but caught the eye of the eldest daughter once more. It felt as if she were looking at her younger self through a long, dark tunnel. She would have been not much older than this girl when her parents, with too many mouths to feed, had placed her in service to a local landowner. There, with sharp wits and determination her only assets, she had earned a grudging respect and ultimately come to the attention of Mordal, the man who had changed her life and ultimately become her mentor. What will be the future for this one, she reflected, this "other me"?

She reached into the canvas sack at her waist and tossed the mother a flatbread and a skin of water, registering the surprised look on the woman's face. Without waiting for response, Keris turned away from the image of her past and began running to meet the escort where the path to her future lay. Behind her she heard a woman's voice.

"Blessings of the Three to you, Lady! May Ail-Gan guide your steps..."

Keris resisted the temptation to laugh.

~

Running into open country, Keris leaped upward and flared her cloak, feeling for the pressure from any latent lodestone in the rocky landscape. She detected a deposit to her left and pivoted in the air, fully retracting the bronze shield in her cloak and exposing the upper layer of tempered lodestone. The repulsive force pushed Keris higher and to the right. As she flew, she sought to feel pressure from any other naturally occurring source. Finding none, she allowed her flight to bring her down to earth in a low trajectory arc. She hit the ground and continued at a loping pace.

Sensing a deposit ahead of her, she angled towards it until she felt it passing under her, and then leaped and flared once more.

The landscape was rough and uneven, as if a giant hand had grasped it at one end and shaken it like a sheet. Boulders were strewn about beneath her like the giant's discarded playthings. Here and there, a stunted tree or a tangled bush clung stubbornly to a patch of miserly soil. The sky was bright, with all three suns shining forth, broken only by a few wisps of cloud. Keris began to feel hot from her exertions. She landed gracefully on a shelf of red-brown sandstone and reached for a sip of water.

The ground was starting to rise upward to meet the plateau on which Chalimar stood. Far behind her now, the road she had left disappeared into the narrow rift which would convey the tributes and their escort to higher ground. She only needed to bear a little to the right, and negotiate the escarpment to reach the place where the road widened out onto flat terrain. She moved off again, blipping her neck control and scanning for the nearest deposit that would allow her to take to the air once more.

A short while later she stood atop the escarpment. A sudden breeze had sprung up, causing her flying cloak to flutter restlessly, and stirring her long raven hair. She brushed her hair back from her eyes. There seemed to be no sign of the escort. A pair of mylar birds wheeled lazily overhead, searching out rising thermals. Ail-Gan was near to Ail-Mazzoth, washing out its colour to a pale red. Ail-Kar was well above the western horizon.

Running forward once again, she leaped, adjusting her shoulder control until she felt the familiar repulsive push of a lodestone deposit, and then opened up her cloak, as she sailed through the light gravity on a wide arc. She angled toward a low rise in the barren terrain, letting herself descend to the ground gracefully, and walked the few steps to the crest.

Keris could see the road now, only a few hundred feet away, but there was still no sign of the escort. Finally, after looking around, she glimpsed them some distance ahead. But there was something very wrong. The escort was not moving, the soldiers standing in a knot before it. Then all of a sudden, Keris saw a movement out of the corner of her eye to her right–a darker shape moving erratically away across the landscape. One of the tributes had made a break for it. Why were the soldiers not in pursuit? Then, another movement from near where the carts stood. A small shape arced up and through the air towards the running figure. She watched, transfixed, as the projectile followed its trajectory and then impacted noiselessly. The figure dropped and lay motionless.

Keris was running now, down the other slope and towards where the fallen figure lay. She flared her cloak impatiently, leaped, ran on and leapt again, finally detecting a deposit and pushing against it to gain impetus.

Three of the soldiers were trotting over to where the prone figure lay. As she arrived, one of them, Rodann, was retrieving his weapon, whilst the others were chatting animatedly and clapping him on the back. Keris landed in front of them, and the conversation tailed off. She regarded the victim. It was one of the men; the younger of the two, she remembered. He was laying face down, the wound made by the shuriken clearly visible in his back. His sandy hair moved lightly in the breeze. Keris suddenly felt weak, bile rising up into her throat. Her stomach was knotting. Why did this happen? Closing her eyes with her jaw clenched, she fought to regain control. Finally, she opened her eyes again and turned to face Rodann. His face was unreadable.

"What happened here?" she demanded.

Rodann spoke up, "Escaped tribute, my Lady."

"He is dead! You did not think to chase him down?" The two soldiers with Rodann shifted uneasily, contaminated with his guilt.

"Apologies my lady, I should have explained to you that we are testing a new method of restraint for the tributes. They have been fitted with lodestone breastplates."

To impede their progress, she realised. The act of running would cause the lodestone to push the man backwards, the harder he tried to run. He probably panicked, not realising what was happening to him and only pushed the harder. But why kill him? So he could not tell others.

All of a sudden she was struck by a horrific thought. Rodann planned this all along. He had been looking for a way to test his asinine devices. Now a man is dead, and I am responsible. Perhaps someone had put him up to it? The keep had a complex political structure, and her rapid advancement in the ranks of Keltar had made her her fair share of enemies. She thrust the thought to the back of her mind. There was nothing to do now except take charge of the situation. She rounded on Rodann.

"Get back to the others now and remove those breastplates. You will watch the tributes closely, and if they flee, you will chase them down and bring them back. I do not intend to lose another. Do you understand?"

"As you command." Rodann pursed his lips; then motioned to the other soldiers and they began walking back to where the carts stood.

Keris stood, looking down at the fallen man for a moment. Then she turned and followed the soldiers, her flying cloak flaccid about her shoulders like a useless appendage.

~

The wheels of the carts clattered across cobbled stone as the tribute convoy passed under massive wooden gates and into the great city of Chalimar. Keris had packed away her cloak and was riding the graylesh once more. Following the incident on the road, the remainder of the journey had been conducted without incident and in near silence. Her first instinct had been to report the matter to Mordal, but she was certain it would be a waste of time. There was also the fact that it was likely that she would have to work with Rodann again and it was never good to have an enemy as your Captain. Nevertheless, she resolved that she would have to watch the man more closely in future.

The late afternoon streets were eerily quiet. The city under the Prophet`s "protection" was a depressing place outside of the keep. The houses were of rough stone, with peaked wooden roofs, closely packed together. There were wooden shutters over most of the windows, despite the fact that it was day. A few people glanced nervously at the soldiers and their three tributes, but most ignored them and hurried on. They were passing through the merchants' quarter and she saw that most of the stalls were empty. The rest of the sellers were engaged in the act of packing away their wares. It felt as if most of the citizens of this once proud city were cowering inside their homes.

They passed through the narrow streets which eventually widened out into a spacious main square. Buildings flanked the square on three sides. They were taller than those on the outskirts, with stone roofs, and up to three stories high. The fourth side was dominated by the Great Cathedral of Chalimar.

Easily the most impressive building in the city, more so than even the keep itself, the cathedral was dominated by three immense spires– one yellow, one red and one white–symbolising the unity of the Three Suns. The cathedral building itself was constructed of immense stones, with narrow slits which admitted only slivers of outside light. There were wide stone steps, leading to a huge wooden door which was firmly shut. Above the door was the familiar symbol of three concentric rings, above which, someone had more recently carved a flame, the symbol of the Prophet. The Three and The One. The addendum looked distinctly out of place–more like vandalism than devotion. Keris rode past and on to the wide uphill street that led to the keep itself.

The gate of the keep swung open to meet them and the small procession clattered into the mustering courtyard. Keris dismounted the graylesh and handed the reins to a soldier. She turned to see Borian, the Gatemaster, walking over to meet her. He was a large man with close cropped dark hair and an easy smile. His skin was a dark olive, and he swished his tail confidently.

"Greetings, Keris. I trust your trip went well." He cast his eye briefly over the caravan. Servants of the keep had arrived and were busy unhitching the animals, whilst the soldier escort stood together in a knot, speaking in low tones. The three "tributes" were glancing nervously about them, no doubt fearing the worst. Borian turned back to Keris. "Orders. I have been told to tell you that you are to report to Mordal in his chambers as soon as you arrive."

Keris sighed slightly. "I see. Thank you, Borian." The man nodded and headed back to the barbican. What now? She had a number of pressing activities she had in mind to be getting on with, the first and most important of which was going to be to stick her head into a bucket of cold water. Well, it looks as if that particular luxury will have to wait.

She started for the keep's main door. Passing through the atrium, she ascended the central stairs and made for Mordal`s office. She knocked once and then entered.

Mordal sat on a stool behind his desk, seemingly preoccupied with work. He was bald, with glabrous face and small, dark, piercing eyes. He wore a plain scarlet tunic and red-brown trousers. A flying cloak was draped carelessly over another stool near the door. His office always seemed to exude an air of casual efficiency, much like the man himself. The walls were inlaid with ornate wooden panelling and lined with rows of leather-bound books. More books were stacked on the desk, some of them open. A small window behind his head afforded a view of the refectory and the garden.

Keris spoke up. "Fealty and service to the Three."

The man looked up from his desk. "And to the One."

"And to the One," she added.

"Report."

"Tariff exacted from Hassun. Two carts of produce. Moba and Kassian mainly. However, harvest last year was poor and their stores are depleted. We could be looking at starvation in the eastern settlements in a half a turn or so. Three tributes delivered. One lost en route through... an accident." Mordal looked up at that and seemed as if he was about to say something, but checked himself. "Rodann is billeting them prior to induction. I am to leave tomorrow for Sakima before Ail-Gan rises." Keris finished and waited patiently for Mordal`s response.

"No."

"I don't–"

"I have charged Niall with that particular task. I have another mission for you." He stood up, walked around his desk and stood next to her, placing his hand on the small of her back. "Walk with me."

She followed as he led her out and down the stairs. They went through a side doorway, and Keris found herself stepping into the garden which lay beneath the window of Mordal`s office.

Bounded by the keep itself, the refectory and a high outer wall, the garden was its own private world. The section adjacent to the refectory was given over to vegetables and herbs. However, this early in the year there was not much to see other than neatly tilled soil. Inside the kitchen area, there was an area where young plants were forced, so as to ensure fresh vegetables for those of eminence within the keep's administrative structure.

The rest of the garden was given over to low shrubs, flower beds and curving walkways. As she walked with Mordal, however, her mind's eye saw not the serenity of growing things, but a lean girl in a cart with eyes of hatred, and a man lying face down on the ground, his fair hair stirring in the breeze...

She was shaken out of her reverie as Mordal suddenly broke the silence.

"Do you remember when you first came here?" he paused, and then continued, "It was more than twenty turns ago. You were young then; wary of everyone, but curious." He laughed lightly. "Your eyes were wide like a young child's, taking everything in, missing nothing." Indeed, the city had seemed almost overwhelming, with its massive cathedral and daunting keep. Half the time, she had wanted to cower in the corner like some frightened gundir pup.

"I watched you carefully," Mordal continued, as if speaking to himself, "You said little but you were sharp and learned quickly. And then you got into a fight with...what was his name?"

"Torinn." Keris remembered the day as if it were yesterday. Torinn was a loudmouth and a bully. When she saw him roughing up a younger boy, she had thrown caution to the winds and set about him like a wild scaran beast. It was an act of nobility, courage and utter stupidity. "He beat me to a pulp."

Mordal laughed out loud. "Of course he did! He was a head taller than you and twice your size! But that was only after he recovered from the shock of being pummelled to the ground by a slip of a girl. That was the day I made the decision to recommend your induction for training as Keltar." He smiled wryly. "I remember I had a long argument with Lorcar over that. You were too young by almost a full turn, but in the end I beat him down. It's a decision I have never regretted."

"I am grateful for all you have done for me, my Lord."

Mordal blew through his lips and waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense, it is we who should thank you. You have worked hard and used your talents in furtherance of the Prophet's cause."

"I live to serve."

"As do we all." He nodded thoughtfully. "Well then, to the business at hand." They had reached a small arbour near the centre of the garden. A sweet scent emanated from a profusion of yellow blossoms. There were stools placed conveniently, but Mordal did not sit; rather, he stood facing the young woman.

"There was an incident two days ago in Corte. Garai was collecting tariff and tributes when he was suddenly attacked by a man posing as Keltar."

"Posing?" inquired Keris.

Mordal shrugged. "He had the trappings of Keltar; the flying cloak and staff. However, he was beaten rather easily by all accounts and fled using the cloak. Garai tried to give chase but his cloak was 'accidentally damaged.' Personally I think that the impostor gave Garai rather more trouble than he is willing to admit. At any rate, he seems to have been aided and abetted by a young woman. The soldier escort gave chase but lost her in the town and did not have time to complete a house to house search before they were due to return."

Keris frowned as she listened to Mordal`s account. It seemed inconceivable that anyone would have the gall to impersonate a Keltar.

"The Prophet is away from the keep, visiting Persillan in the north, from where he is due to ascend to the heavens in a few days. We Ringed him of course, to apprise him of the situation, but he is not overly concerned. There has been no organised rebellion since the revolt at Persillan, and that was more than ten turns ago. Nevertheless, two companies of soldiers under Captain Sallidor have been dispatched to Corte to investigate and track down the assailants."

"Sallidor will no doubt do a thorough job," Keris offered.

"Sallidor couldn't find a Utharan Mammoth if you placed it in front of him and tied a sign round its neck reading 'Utharan Mammoth.' No, Sallidor will knock a few heads together, but he will turn up nothing of significance... However, this does furnish us with an opportunity."

"Opportunity?"

"Indeed." Mordal smiled weakly. "I am getting along in years now, Keris. Soon the time will come to name my successor." He looked at her steadily. "I would like it to be you."

Keris was silent for a moment, trying to absorb the import of Mordal`s words. She had never thought of herself in such a role. Indeed she was quite certain that no-one else in the keep had either. In fact there would probably be quite a number, and she could rattle off their names, who would be shocked or even angered by the suggestion. Finally she spoke. "My Lord, there are a great many others with more experience than I–"

"But they do not have your insight or your instincts. I need to know that after I am gone, the Prophet's mission will be in good hands."

Keris found herself lost for words.

"However," he continued, "I need to convince the Prophet that you are indeed the right person for this task." Mordal put a hand on her shoulder. "To that end, I want you to go to Corte. You can pose as common traveller or a merchant. Make discreet enquiries and find the conspirators. I do not care what happens to them, whether you take them alive or bring back the bodies, but we need to know exactly how they managed to obtain the cloak and the staff."

"This is to be your task and yours alone, Keris. You will report directly to me. When you return, I will bring your efforts to the attention of the Prophet and make my recommendation. I have every confidence in your success."

Keris nodded. "I shall begin preparations immediately, my Lord." She made to turn away, but something stopped her.

"Mordal?"

"Yes, Keris?"

"Does the Lord Prophet really ascend to the heavens?"

"Indeed," Mordal replied, "I have seen it with my own eyes."

Chapter 3

The clouds had begun to part and were tinged with Ail-Mazzoth`s soft reddish glow as Shann urged her mount towards Lind. There were no lights visible from the town, which lay in somnolent shadow.

The apprehension she had felt during her flight from Corte had slowly been replaced by exhaustion, so that after a while she no longer checked over her shoulder for signs of pursuit. She simply clung to the sides of her mount and rode on, as if she and the graylesh were the only things left in the world.

As she approached the edge of the town, she eased herself off the graylesh`s back, half falling off in the attempt. Her bad ankle hit the ground, and she went down on one knee, grimacing in pain. Gingerly, she eased herself up and checked her surroundings.

The street she was in seemed to consist mainly of stables, workshops or warehouses; it was hard to tell in the dim light. She did not have anything approaching a plan, but she knew she could not go on much farther and she didn't know anyone in this town. I need a place to hole up, at least until morning, she decided.

She started towards an adjacent building, when suddenly there was the sound of footsteps splashing through puddles from behind her on the hard-packed road. She saw an open crate and hobbled over to it as fast as she could. She climbed in and lay still. A smell assailed her nostrils. Lining the bottom of the crate was a layer of moba root and most of them seemed to have gone bad. She fought down the urge to gag.

As she tried to lie still, a light appeared at the corner of her vision. An oil lamp was casting a gentle radiance. She looked up and saw a freckled round face bending over the crate. The face was smiling disarmingly, and even more bizarrely, was topped off by a jauntily placed cap.

The lips on the face moved. "Good evening!"

I must have fallen asleep or passed out, Shann concluded. But her ankle still hurt, so that didn't seem right.

All of a sudden, the nose on the face sniffed and its expression screwed up. "Pooooohhhh, what have you gotten yourself into?"

A hand reached down and Shann grasped it without thinking, allowing it to pull her up. The hand and the face belonged to a short man, not much taller than she. He had wavy brown hair, and what seemed like a permanently amused expression. He appeared neat and well dressed, which made Shann wonder if he were a clothier.

The man spoke to her as if he were speaking to a lifelong friend, rather than to a stranger whom he had only just dragged out of a smelly crate. "I have a question to ask you, and I must apologise if it seems strange. Has anyone given you anything tonight?"

Shann had no idea what this odd little man was talking about, but then she suddenly remembered the disc she had been given. She reached into her pocket and grasped it. It pulled slightly against her in that odd fashion she had noticed before. She opened her hand and held it out in her upturned palm.

The man smiled again. "Do you mind if I borrow this? I promise to return it."

Without waiting for a reply, he grasped the disc and secreted it about his person. His gaze turned back to her and became one of concern. "You look exhausted. Come, there is a meal and a bed awaiting you."

He started off down the street but she merely stood stupefied, watching the capped figure. He stopped, turned to her, and extended a beckoning hand in her direction. "Don't worry. You are among friends now!"

~

Shann was seated on a stool in the kitchen. The generously proportioned range was giving off a glowing heat which threatened to lull her to sleep. The man with the cap called out. "Hedda?"

Moments later, a middle aged woman entered, clad in brown work robes and white apron. Her freckled olive face was as round as the man's, but unlike him, she seemed to bear a permanent frown. She looked at the man, then at Shann, then back at the man again.

"Is this her?" she enquired.

By way of reply, the man reached into his pocket and held the disc out for the older woman to see. She nodded once and turned her attention to the girl.

"Right then, I'm sure you are hungry. I'll get you a bowl." She went to the range and began to bustle with pots.

The man stood nearby, watching them both. Despite the fact that they were inside and in a warm kitchen, he still wore that absurd cap perched precariously on his head. Shann wondered idly if he wore it to bed. Her body seemed to be reviving slowly. Her throat was dry, but she found her voice and rasped, "I'm sorry, who are you?"

It was the older woman who answered. "By the grace of the Three, boy, did you not even tell this poor girl who you were before dragging her in here? I'm sorry, child; this is my unworthy son, Alondo. Alas, I have made my hairs grey trying to instil a measure of civil behaviour in him, but he remains as stubbornly boorish as ever."

Alondo made a deeply wounded expression, and then smiled sheepishly. "Yes mama." Shann quickly realised that this was a regular banter between two people who used deprecation as a way of expressing their love for one another. She could feel herself starting to relax a little.

Hedda placed a steaming bowl in front of Shann, and then turned to Alondo. "What are you doing standing there idle? Go make up a bed for our guest."

Alondo gave a mockingly exaggerated bow and left through the door. Shann lifted the bowl to her lips. The stew tasted wonderful and began to warm her stomach. She turned to the older woman. "Thank you."

Hedda was still bustling. "It's the least we could do. You did a very brave thing tonight."

Shann felt confused. No-one had ever called her "brave" in her entire life. What was more, she could not think what she could have done to earn that title now. She decided to change the subject. "How did you know where to find me?"

Hedda smiled. "How many young women do you think have arrived in a bedraggled state on the road from Corte tonight? Alondo was sent to keep watch for you. A good pair of eyes is one of his few attributes. We could not be certain, of course, but the road east from Corte goes towards Chalimar, and it did not seem likely you would head towards the serpent's nest, with the serpents after you. We also knew you had been given the disc, so there could be no confusion as to who you were."

Shann`s mind was still a little foggy, but she digested the implication. "You know the man who gave me the disc?"

"Yes, indeed."

"Who is he?"

Hedda pressed her lips together. "Enough for tonight. I can tell you are exhausted and the night is well along. You need to rest. There will be time enough for answers in the morning. And you will have another journey to make then, if you are strong enough. Wait here. I will see if my fool of a son has made up your room yet, or whether he has forgotten the task he was sent to do and is instead composing another one of his airy ballads."

She got up and swept through the kitchen door, leaving Shann alone for the moment. Shann suddenly felt an all-enveloping sense of weariness. She pushed her bowl away, folded her hands on the table and rested her head. Within minutes, she was sound asleep.

~

Keris, diamond merchant and traveller from the mines of Thalissa, deep in the mountains of Tragar, entered the Inn of the Leaping Dagan just off the market square in Corte.

The atmosphere within the Inn was redolent with the odour of horge, a sweet liquor distilled from kalash. The décor was sparse, a plain wooden floor covered with sawdust and unadorned wooden walls. A shassatan board was laid out on a table in the corner, but no-one was playing. There was a small serving area, fronted by a loose scattering of tables and stools. Behind the serving area stood a tall man with sharp features, wearing an apron. He cast an appraising eye over his patrons as if he were somehow weighing their coin purses.

It was early evening, and there were no more than eight customers. Even so, Keris` limited experience with places like these suggested that they were usually far more raucous, even with a limited clientele. By contrast, this establishment seemed positively subdued. Men and women sat hunched together round tables, murmuring to each other in low tones and sipping like gentlefolk. A few glanced in Keris` direction as she entered and then returned to nursing their drinks, as if disappointed.

Keris strolled to the serving area, pulled up a stool and sat down. She sighed and shook her hair loose, feigning the symptoms of a hard day's work; then reached inside her surcoat and tossed a collection of small coins in the tall man's direction.

"Horge."

The man's face lit up at the sight of the coin. "How do you like it?" he asked.

"Hot and sweet."

He swept up the coin with a practiced sleight of hand and produced, as if from nowhere, a steaming mug of horge. Keris cradled the earthenware mug and sipped at the hot dark fluid. It was sweet, with a subtle aftertaste. Horge was served at the Keep, but she was accustomed to taking her meals at the refectory with water. Of course, to walk into a place like this and order water would have only attracted amusement or suspicion or both.

She surfaced from her drink. "Nice," she lied.

"Only the finest horge you will taste in the whole of the Eastern Provinces," he declared loudly, as if advertising the fact to everyone within earshot. No-one looked up.

"Would you by any chance have a room for the night?" she inquired.

"You are fortunate," he declared. "I have but one room left, for the modest rate of one twelfth of an astria, stranger."

She took a further coin from her pouch and pushed it towards the man firmly. It disappeared in the same manner as the others. "Keris," she affirmed.

"Welcome to the Dagan, Keris. I am called Morran." He began to busy himself behind the serving area. "Will you be staying long in Corte?"

"That depends." She started into the cover story she had carefully rehearsed. "I need to try to establish local contacts."

Her garb had been chosen judiciously so as to identify her to any casual observer as a merchant, though not too prosperous.

"What is your business?" Morran asked conversationally.

"Diamonds."

"Well, they are a common enough commodity." No doubt he was expecting a sales pitch, and Keris was ready.

"Ah yes, but you see with diamonds, it is all about the quality." She produced a pouch and emptied it out. A dozen raw crystals of assorted shapes tumbled onto the wooden counter. Morran picked one up between his thumb and finger and regarded it closely from all sides. He hasn't a clue what he's looking at, she thought, amused

"These are from Tragar," she continued. "My brother and I recently inherited a mine. Our uncle who owned it died after a long illness and the place has been left sadly neglected. However, it was known for producing top quality stones, and my brother is convinced it can become a going concern once again. He is back there trying to reinstate production and it was left to me to establish contacts with diamond cutters in Chalimar and the lowland towns, possibly even an investor or two."

She smiled at Morran hopefully. Morran looked at her, and quickly returned the stone he was holding to the others. She shrugged, still smiling, and scooped up the stones into the bag once more.

She had led the conversation skilfully to this point. Now it was time to make her move. Taking another sip from her mug, she added casually, "These really are the finest quality diamonds. Several of the cutters in Chalimar said they were the finest stones they had seen. Good enough even to grace a Keltar`s staff weapon."

A large man sitting at the table nearest the counter jerked his stool back so that it scraped against the wooden floor, and slammed his mug down on the table. Horge slopped over its sides. Keris glanced back, but the man was looking straight ahead and not at her.

Morran leaned over the counter towards her and lowered his voice. "Careful, friend. The Prophet's servants are not well regarded here at present."

"Has something happened here?" Keris asked innocently. However, it was the big man at the table who answered.

"Nothing but the wanton murder of a good man." The man's voice was a bass rumble with a hint of menace. Keris` expression of shock was genuine. Sallidor had been sent to investigate, nothing more. What had gone wrong?

She turned to face the man at the table. "Forgive me, friend; I did not mean to give offence. I deal only with the cutters. I am a simple merchant, arrived in your town but late this afternoon. I had no idea something so ill had transpired here."

Then something quite unexpected happened. The figure sitting next to the man cuffed him squarely on the shoulder. The big man flinched. The figure spoke up, and it was a woman's voice. "Jadar!" She was easily half his size, which made the scene appear that much more comical. She had delicate features, and her dark hair was combed straight back.

"I apologise for my partner," she glanced in his direction, but he had assumed a morose silence. "What has taken place here is no excuse to resort to suspicion and bad manners. Please, won't you join us?"

She gestured to a third stool at their table. Keris took the opening gratefully and sat down. "May I get you a drink?" she offered.

"You are kind," the woman responded. "But as you can see for yourself, Jadar has had quite enough for one evening."

The big man was still staring straight ahead. "Poltann was a good man," he repeated more to himself than anyone else.

"That was the man who died?" Keris asked the other woman.

"Executed," continued Jadar. "Strung up and left to die by the Prophet's soldiers."

"Why? What did he do?"

Keris learned that he was the owner of the Wayfarer, another inn fronting the next street over. It was where the girl who was involved with the incident three days ago had worked. That explained the connection, but not why the man was now dead.

She listened to the parts of the story she already knew, registering shock and concern in the appropriate places. A strange man impersonating a Keltar had tried unsuccessfully to set free the tributes and then fled. She listened closely to the description of the impostor. A few people had caught a glimpse of him, but it seemed he was unknown in these parts. The couple seemed sincere, and Keris had no reason to disbelieve them. That left the girl as her only lead.

The girl had worked in the kitchens there. It seemed unlikely that such a person could be a part of an insurgency movement, but it could be part of a cover, Keris supposed. In any event, her next move was clear.

The woman, who she had learned was named Fallon, had a kind, easy manner. Even Jadar seemed to have shaken himself out of his black mood and smiled slightly. Keris found herself drawn to the two of them and would have liked nothing better than to have whiled away the evening in their company, but she had work to do.

She excused herself on the pretext of retiring for the night and located her room. Once the door was closed behind her, she located her flying cloak, black tunic and black trousers. Moments later, Keris the diamond merchant was no more; in her place stood Keris the Keltar. She opened the window latch, climbed onto the window sill and glided to the street below. Moving between pools of shadow, she headed for the Wayfarer

~

The rear of the Inn was quiet, with no lights showing. That was unusual. Innkeepers normally kept late hours, although the owner of this particular establishment was dead, so perhaps the guests had taken rooms elsewhere. That would make her task rather easier.

She approached the kitchen door silently. A simple catch on the inside. She reached inside the pouch at her belt and felt for an oval shaped lodestone. It resisted her pull on it slightly. Taking it out, she placed it carefully against the door, a little way beneath the catch. Its repulsive force was enough to push the latch up. In a single fluid movement, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

The stairway to the left would lead to the staff chambers. She ascended and came to a hallway with three doors set in them. All right, we do this one by one. The first door was unlocked. She entered and shut the door behind her. A brief search turned up nothing of interest. She was about to turn to go when she heard a scraping sound. A split second later, the door to the room flew open and two silhouettes burst in, weapons drawn.

Without taking the time to turn, she jabbed her elbow backward. She heard a satisfying "Ooomph" as she made contact with the intruder's stomach. As the body doubled up, she jerked her fist upward, feeling her knuckles make contact with the face as it descended. She spun around in time to see her attacker stagger backwards and fall to the floor on his rump. The other was advancing, weapon raised. She crouched down and launched a spinning kick which took out her opponent's legs from under him.

A light suddenly appeared at the doorway, illuminating the forms of two soldiers sprawled on the floor. One was bleeding profusely from the nose. A man's voice called out, "What's going on in there?"

The dark uniformed man stepped into the room, holding an oil lamp. He bore a Captain's insignia.

Keris faced him squarely. "You are Sallidor."

The Captain squinted at her by the lamp's lambent light. "Keltar?"

She glanced at the soldiers, who were by now helping each other up from the floor. One was still clutching his bloody nose. "May I ask why your men do not issue the customary challenge, but attack on sight like scaran beasts?"

It was a moment before Sallidor found his voice. "My apologies, Keltar, but this is a secure area. We did not know you were here." He seemed to recover his courage somewhat. "May I ask the purpose of your presence here?"

"That should be obvious, even to you. I am conducting an investigation into the events of three days ago."

"My men and I were sent here to–"

"I know why you are here, Captain. I also know that you executed the proprietor of this establishment. Why?"

"He refused to give any information."

Keris had a strong urge to shake the man by the throat. "Well, he certainly won't be giving us any information now, will he?"

Sallidor seemed lost for words. She changed tack. "What have you uncovered about the girl that worked here?"

"Only that she worked in the kitchens. She eluded our soldiers and was seen leaving the town by the West Gate."

The West Gate... The West Gate... her mind worked rapidly. The road to Lind. That was the girl's likely destination, then. She would need to head there first thing tomorrow.

She came to another decision. "This investigation is now being conducted by the Keltar. You have new orders, Captain. You and your men are to withdraw from the town first thing tomorrow morning. You will return to Chalimar and report to Mordal on arrival there."

"Yes, but–"

Keris shut her eyes and raised her voice in an expression of exaggerated patience. "Do you understand the orders you have been given?"

"Yes, Keltar."

"Then carry out your orders."

"Yes, Keltar."

"Now leave...and take these men with you."

Moments later, she was alone again in the dim chamber. She felt sick to her stomach, again. Another man dead. Another casual murder. Was this really all a part of the Prophet`s grand vision? She felt as if she were being swept up and borne along by forces she could not control. She had to put a stop to all of this somehow. Maybe she could put her concerns to Mordal when she returned to the keep? He did not seem concerned at all by the loss of the "tributes." What makes you think anyone will listen?

She was struck by another thought. What will happen to the girl if I take her into custody and bring her back to the keep? Keris had no answers. All she could do was to follow her mission's path and see where it led her.

She climbed out onto the window ledge, and leapt into the caliginous night.

Chapter 4

Shann rose slowly toward consciousness and opened her eyes. Shafts of light were filtering through closed shutters, playing over the cot where she lay. The room was small, with a single stool next to the bed and a hearth opposite, presently unlit.

She closed her eyes again, recalling her flight the previous night, and how she had been taken in by Alondo and Hedda. They seemed kind, and Hedda reminded her of Gallar. I wonder how she and Poltann are– if they are worrying about me. Perhaps I should try to get word to them somehow to let them know I'm all right?

She sat up in bed and saw that she was wearing a grey nightshirt. With a start, she realised that she couldn't remember how she'd gotten to bed last night. Someone had apparently carried her here, undressed her and put her in night attire. The bandage on her ankle was gone also. She felt a wave of embarrassment.

There was a light knock at the door, and Hedda entered.

"I see my brave little one is awake." There was that word again. "How are you feeling this morning?" Hedda crossed the room and opened the shutters, allowing sunlight to wash into the room

"I'm fine, thank you." Shann replied, squinting at the illumination of day. She ran a hand through her short dark hair.

"How's the ankle?"

Shann flexed the joint experimentally beneath the sheet. "Better, I think."

"That's good. Are you hungry?"

Shann`s stomach informed her that she was in fact famished. She nodded.

"There's something on the stove for you when you're ready." Hedda laid out garments at the end of the bed. "I'm afraid I don't have any clothes your size. There are some of Alondo`s clothes for now. They will be a bit baggy, I'm afraid, but they should do–at least, until we can get you something more suitable."

"I don't know how to thank you for last night," Shann began.

The older woman smiled. "Nonsense, I'm just glad you made it here, and we found you safe. If you are feeling well enough, I thought we might take a little trip."

She sounded as if she were proposing a vacation or a sightseeing tour.

"Trip?"

"Yes, the gentleman you assisted last evening would very much like to meet you."

"Where is he?"

"Not far. Why don't you hurry up and get dressed?"

~

Later that morning, Shann sat alongside Alondo and Hedda as their cart rumbled out from Lind and onto a winding country road. Wayside flowers unfurled their petals, and small birds pecked at the warming soil, affirming that spring was now well underway. Ail-Gan bathed the landscape in its bright yellow effulgence. In the distance farmers toiled in the fields and domestic animals grazed contentedly. It all seemed so at odds with the happenings of last night, as if those events had taken place on a different world and in a different time.

"If we should be stopped by soldiers," Hedda had told her at the house, "you should say you are a cousin of mine, visiting from Kinnat."

Shann nodded. "Hedda, the man I met last night in Corte, the man who gave me the disc. Who is he?

"His name is Lyall. He and Alondo have been friends since they were children. They've been getting into trouble together ever since."

"Why did he attack the Keltar?"

"As to that...it would be better if you asked him yourself. You will be seeing him soon enough." She placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder.

Shann found it remarkable that she felt able to trust these people so completely, despite having known them for less than a day.

She could readily understand why she was drawn to Hedda. The loss of her own mother at so early an age caused her to be naturally drawn to anyone who seemed to fill that void. But she also felt an affinity toward Alondo that was harder to explain.

She had never had a brother. What was more, Alondo was unlike any brother she could have imagined ever having. His absurd hat was still perched precariously. Shann found herself wondering how it managed to stay on his head, what with the cart's jerky motion.

But there was something that piqued her curiosity even more. He had slung over his shoulder what looked like a musical instrument, although it looked like nothing she had ever seen before.

It was pear-shaped, like a large mandolin, with a fretless fingerboard. The neck and bridge were arrayed with what looked like a mind-numbingly complex arrangement of keys and levers. She could not imagine why he had brought the thing along, unless it was to allay suspicion from them as a group. In her opinion, it was more likely to draw undue attention.

"Are you a musician?" she asked him.

"You noticed," he replied cheerfully.

"What type of instrument is that?"

"It's an excuse to avoid work; that's what it is," Hedda interjected.

Alondo smiled tolerantly. "It's based on a sabada, but it's actually my own design. It has one or two unusual...features. Maybe you would like to hear it?"

Shann`s face brightened. She had always loved music. "Oh, yes, please!"

Alondo handed the reins to his mother as if to prove her point, and then jumped into the back of the cart. Seated comfortably against the backboard, he cradled the instrument gently like a dearly loved pet, and made a few practiced adjustments.

"Do you know this one?" he shouted to those behind him. Without waiting for a reply, he sounded an opening chord and launched into a light baritone.

"Let me tell you now of a girl I knew,

"With lovely eyes of the fairest blue,

"Green skin as fresh as the morning dew,

"With a hi hey diddle diddle hey.

"I met her down on the market square,

"The sunlight danced in her auburn hair,

"Oh ne'r had I seen a maid so fair,

"With a hi hey diddle diddle hey......"

The girls joined in the chorus, as the cart creaked from side to side and rumbled on into the distance.

Insects buzzed and danced together like motes in the warm spring air.

~

"My name is Lyall. I'm very happy to meet you at last."

Shann was sitting in the kitchen of a generously proportioned farmhouse. Copper pots of all sizes hung from the walls. She sat before a large wooden table with her hands folded in her lap, looking up into the eyes of the stranger she had met in Corte. They were as blue as she remembered, and there was the unruly sandy hair, but he seemed taller somehow. He winced a little as he sat down opposite her. She recalled the wound left by the Keltar`s stabbing thrust.

"Are you all right?"

"Actually, Moina tells me it's only superficial. I only wish it felt superficial." He adjusted his seating position again, gritting his teeth as he did so. "It will be a day or so before I'll be leaping across rooftops again."

"Longer if you don't learn to sit still." An older woman stood at the kitchen door. She had dark hair with silver streaks and wore a workmanlike green dress and white apron. "Hedda and Alondo are going to help me with the animals. Can you keep our guest company for a while?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Moina turned in Shann's direction, adding with strained patience, "And try to keep him from tearing his wound open again." She turned on her heel and left.

Lyall shrugged. "My mother's sister," he declared, as if that were the only explanation that were necessary.

His bright blue eyes seemed to pierce through to the centre of her being. She felt as if she were glass. "I am told you are called Shann."

Shann sat looking at her hands still folded in her lap. She nodded.

"Well I'm very grateful to you, Shann. I might not have made it out of there alive if you hadn't helped me. You did so at the risk of your own life. May I ask why?"

Shann moved her hand to the side of her face, recalling the day the soldiers had taken her parents away. I wanted them to leave my parents alone. She raised her eyes to meet Lyall. "I wanted it to stop–the tributes, all of it. I wanted to fight them."

Lyall's voice was quiet. "I can help you do that, if you wish."

Shann felt confused. She had no idea how she should respond. Eventually, she found her voice again. "Why did you do it? Why did you take on a Keltar and a troop of soldiers?"

Lyall smiled at her. "It was a bit mad, wasn't it? I surely didn't plan it that way. It was just that one of the young women in the 'tribute' group–she...reminded me of someone."

He seemed anxious to change the subject. "Did you know any of them?"

"No, not really. I knew who one of the girls was, but I had never spoken to her."

"I believe I can make it stop, Shann."

"You cannot fight the Keltar. They are the eyes and ears of the Prophet. There is no way to resist them. What happened to you proves that."

"I acted without thinking. Besides, I had no way of knowing he would have grenades with him. Otherwise the outcome might have been rather different." He paused. "The key to defeating a tyrant–any tyrant–is to understand the source of their power. Once you do that, you can manipulate it; even use their own power against them."

He leaned forward. "Shann, do you know what lodestones are?"

"No."

"Actually, you do. I gave you one in Corte, so that you could be recognised." The disc. Alondo had returned it to her that morning, and she pulled it from her pocket. She noted again a slight resistance as she did so. She placed it on the table in front of her. "To be totally accurate, what you have there is what we call refined lodestone. Just as iron is smelted from ore, so this is what you get from lodestone ore."

"Lodestone ore?"

"Yes, it falls from the sky. You have seen the meteor storms?" She nodded. Scores of fireballs streaking across the heavens and winking out. They were visible most nights.

"Refined lodestone has powerful properties. What you have there is one kind–a kind that is used to power their flying cloaks and some of their other devices. But there is nothing mysterious about it. The Keltar have been taught by the Prophet how to use it, nothing more."

Shann frowned. "So what you are saying is that anyone can use their power, even me?"

"That's right."

"How does it work?" Her voice was eager.

Lyall took another disc out of his pocket. It looked exactly like hers; black but with an oddly undefined surface that seemed to shift as she viewed it from different angles.

"Originally, lodestones were the name given to a type of rock that would naturally attract iron. They can be used to impart a force to the iron that makes it point in only one direction." Shann had heard of such devices used by travellers to help find their way. "The same word came to be used to describe the stones that fell from the sky, but they are in fact quite different. You have two discs there; try to push them together."

Shann picked them up and did so. There was a strong repulsive force between them, getting stronger the closer she brought them together. She frowned again. "I can't do it."

"That's right. Now try this." He reached in his pocket again and brought out another disc, but this one was white. "This is an ordinary metal. It's coloured white just to distinguish it from the lodestone. Try bringing it and the lodestone together."

This time, the lodestone felt pulled towards the white disc, but the white disc seemed to be pushed away.

"Lodestones repel everything, including ordinary stones or metal. So they can be used to push things; objects, people, anything really."

"They sound like the Kal stones."

"You mean the account of the flying stone, the one in the sacred texts?"

"Yes. How is that possible?"

Lyall reached into his pocket once more. He brought out two more lodestones, one a disc, the other a small sphere like a marble. She watched intently as he carefully arranged the three discs on the table in the shape of a triangle. Then he carefully placed the marble in mid-air over the three stones. It floated, seemingly without support, subtle shades of darkness playing furtively over its smooth surface.

Shann`s eyes were wide. "So it really did happen."

"Possibly. I've never seen a Kal stone myself and I don't know anyone who has. No doubt that's because the system is inherently–" He knocked the marble with his finger, and it fell to the table and rolled onto the floor. "–unstable."

She bent down to retrieve the marble from the floor and handed it back to Lyall. "Thanks." He placed it back in his pocket and gathered up two of the discs, leaving one on the table. "Let's try something else, shall we? Have you noticed that lodestone feels a bit funny when you handle it?"

"It seems to pull against you a little," she noted.

"Right. Try to give it a little push with your finger. Shann did so, but to her utter surprise, instead of moving away, it moved towards her. Lyall registered her puzzled look. "Now pull it towards you slightly."

She reached out and pulled it back sharply with two of her fingers. It shot forward across the table, hitting Lyall in the midriff and landing in his lap. She put her hand to her mouth.

"I said 'slightly,'" he chided.

He put the disc back on the table. "They move in the opposite direction to whatever force is applied to them. When you understand how they operate, you can use lodestones in various different ways. The Keltar`s flying cloak is just one example."

"The flying cloak–tell me how it works." Her voice was insistent.

"Is he trying to get you up in one of those things?" It was Alondo, cap and all, smiling as ever. He was standing at the kitchen door.

"I gave you the chance."

"The chance to break my neck. Thanks for that." He turned towards Shann and covered his mouth conspiratorially, "If I were you, I wouldn't go near one of those things."

"Don't you have anything pressing to do?"

Alondo looked at the backs of his hands, pulled up a spare stool and sat down next to Shann, grinning from ear to ear. "Not right now."

Lyall raised his eyes heavenward. Then he addressed Shann, doing his best to ignore his friend. "The power of the Keltar, the power of the Prophet himself–it derives from the lodestones. I intend to take that power away."

Her expression was rapt. "How?"

"Do you know the fortress of Gort?"

Gort. Death and despair. The very name was enough to send a shiver down her spine, even though she had never set eyes on it. Raising itself up like a ravenous beast from the desolate sands of the Southern Desert, it devoured those who passed through its cavernous maw. Travellers spoke of it as being built from the bleached bones of those who had expired from heat and exhaustion.

"I know that most of the 'tributes' are sent there."

"Do you know why?"

Shann shook her head.

"Lodestones." Registering her look of incomprehension, he continued. "The stones fall all over the world, but how do you find them? If a stone were to fall in the mountains, or even here in the valley, how would you distinguish it from other stones? However, suppose you had a smooth, featureless landscape. Any stone that fell from above would easily show up as a dark shape on the surface."

"Like in the desert."

"Exactly. However, the Prophet needs people to scour the desert and collect the stones. That's what the 'tributes' are there for. The fortress has a compound attached to it, where they are kept and sent out, sometimes to die. But the Prophet maintains his supply of the stones. I intend to go there and free the 'tributes.' We will need others who are prepared to join us. We will also be cutting off the Prophet's source of supply, so it will be a double victory."

"I want to go with you, to help free them. I want to make it stop–the Keltar, the Prophet–" Lyall and Alondo were looking at each other with amused expressions. "You're making fun of me."

Lyall's face straightened. "No, no, we're not. Look, Shann, what we are proposing to do is highly dangerous. There's a good chance we won't succeed."

"Shann, think about this." It was Alondo. "We can arrange to look after you, and return you home after the hue and cry has died down. You shouldn't risk your life any further."

Her slight frame and delicate face were resolute. "No. I've decided; I'm coming with you."

Lyall's blue eyes were looking directly into hers, as if locked in a battle of wills. After a moment, his shoulders slumped. "Well...we'll talk about it."

That night she dreamed of flying, soaring above Gort. The desert fortress reared up towards her, soaked in Ail-Mazzoth`s crimson light. Far below her parents stood with their backs to her. She cried out and her father turned, but it was no longer her father. It was a tall man with sandy hair and diamond blue eyes. She heard him speak.

"I can make it stop, Shann."

Chapter 5

Alondo regarded the morgren in its pen with a dubious expression. Morgren were without doubt the ugliest creatures he knew. Of course, one could almost deal with that–if it were not for the smell. Fudoro, who was in charge of the stables here in Lind, insisted that you got used to it after a while, but Alondo seriously doubted that.

The morgren stamped its splayed feet and snorted from its single hairy nostril as if affronted. A few specks of slobber hit Alondo`s coat, causing him to step back out of range. The creature appraised him with its rheumy eyes and apparently satisfied, resumed munching on a bale of kalash.

Morgren were considerably slower than graylesh and had none of the latter's grace of movement. They were stubborn and ill-tempered, but they could survive in arid conditions long after a graylesh`s bones would have been picked clean. Morgren had been known to go fifteen days in the desert without water, so there really was no option. He was purchasing this malodorous beast whether either of them liked it or not.

"How much?" he heard himself ask.

Fudoro ran a hand through his thinning hair. "One fourth...each."

Alondo's eyes widened. "One fourth of an astria? That seems a lot."

The stableman shrugged. "Times are hard, friend. Everything is in short supply. The Prophet's servants cut the fat and leave nothing but bone... Tell you what; I'll throw in a pack saddle, bells if you need 'em and a full load of kalash for each animal, at no extra cost."

Alondo nodded agreement grudgingly and doled out payment.

Fudoro`s palm closed around the coins. "Will you wait while I outfit them for you or will you return?"

"We'll wait."

Fudoro turned and headed towards the back, casting a glance at the hooded figure in the corner. Shann looked as if she were trying to appear unobtrusive. Still, Alondo was starting to feel glad that she had agreed to come along. He had set out with five silver astrias this morning, and it was going down fast. At least she would be able to testify that he hadn't frittered it away swigging horge at every inn along the way.

Although he had known her for less than three days, Alondo found himself growing profoundly concerned for the slender, frail-looking girl. Driven from her home; pursued by soldiers; taken in by strangers; and now on top of everything else, Lyall claiming they could solve the problems of the entire world, when the poor waif scarcely knew how to cope with her own.

Last night she had once again avowed her determination to join them on their fool's mission. A mission that will most likely end in all our deaths. What was Lyall thinking? Alondo almost wished he had left her there at the bottom of that crate of stinking moba root. She would likely have lived longer.

Fudoro had returned. The morgren were out of their pens and the stableman was making final adjustments to saddle packs. Alondo thanked him and took the reins of one animal, motioning for Shann to take the other.

Outside, he turned to her. "I have to meet with someone briefly. Would you mind looking after the morgren and the rest of our things for a bit? I won't be long."

Shann threw her hood back. Her eyes narrowed. "You're going to find an inn, aren't you?"

Alondo smiled enigmatically. "Not this time."

~

The Eastern Canton. Home to the poor and destitute of the town of Lind. A place of worn out rags and broken dreams, where squat wooden shacks sat cowering like frightened children. Alondo, maker of music, bringer of joy, felt totally out of place in this blighted neighbourhood. Old and young alike watched his passing from hollow doorways and through hollow eyes. This is what must change. No-one should be forced to live like this.

He came to a ramshackle hut and ducked at the low entranceway. An old man with white bones jutting out beneath desiccated skin sat on a stool next to an unlit fireplace. His eyes were bright but unfocused.

Alondo walked up and placed a hand on the old man's shoulder. "Hello, Ennas."

The man raised his own hand, and placed it over the hand of his visitor. His voice shook slightly. "Alondo. It's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's me. How are you keeping?"

"I am just fine. Malan is not back from the fields yet. How is Hedda?"

"Oh, mother is still her cheery self." Alondo pulled up a crudely fashioned stool. The wooden floor of the shack was swept clean. There was an old chest in one corner and two rough pallets in the back, but it was otherwise bare.

"It's kind of you to visit an old blind man. Malan will be sad to have missed you. He often speaks of you and Lyall. Are you two still together?"

"We stay in touch, yes." Alondo looked down at his hands, feeling a mixture of anguish and guilt. Ennas had lost two sons at the revolt in Persillan some ten turns ago. Malan, his third son, had melted away in the ensuing confusion, along with Lyall and himself. When Ennas' wife died a turn later, his last surviving son had taken him in. It was clear that times had been hard for them in the intervening years.

"Ennas, I have a confession to make. I came to ask if you know anything about what's happening in Corte."

"You mean the incident with the Keltar?"

"So Malan told you about it?"

The old man made a harrumphing sound. "The talk among the field workers is of little else. The Prophet's soldiers left that night, but the following morning two more companies arrived and began shoving people around. Word is that they have a local innkeeper under arrest and are interrogating him for information about a girl that worked there."

Alondo's mind was working furiously as he absorbed the news. This is bad. If Shann's former employer talks, then the troops will be here next. In fact, they may even be on their way right now.

Alondo took the old man's wrinkled hand in his own. The skin felt leathery. "Ennas I'm sorry, I have to leave. I have someone waiting for me. Will you be all right?"

"Don't worry about me. Malan will be home soon. Are you sure you can't stay?"

"Tell Malan I have to go away for a while, but I will see you both when I return." He paused, then reaching into his coin purse, took out half an astria and placed it firmly in Ennas' palm, closing the man's gaunt fingers around it. Whatever Lyall thought of his other purchases, Alondo was certain he would approve of this one.

He stood up and turned to go. As he did so, the old man spoke. "The man in Corte, the man who fought a Keltar and tried to free the 'tributes'?" Ennas' blind eyes seemed to see farther than any sighted person. "I'd like to meet him one day."

~

Lyall sat thoughtfully for a moment in the farmhouse's comfortable sitting room, weighing consequences. Then he met Alondo's questioning gaze. "We have to leave, now."

"You mean, for Gort?"

Lyall nodded.

"Ennas was all fired up by what happened in Corte. I imagine a lot of people are. I wonder what he would say if he knew it was you?" Alondo paused, "You know, Malan would have come with us without hesitation if you had asked him."

"I know. But if anything were to happen to Ennas` last son, how could I look the old man in the face?" Lyall`s expression was dark.

"What happened at Persillan was not your fault, you know."

"I know."

There was a silence between both men, charged with the memory of loss. A complex of oddly shaped white buildings. People in white clothing running in all directions. The discovery of a large bronze coloured globe, with strange protuberances. An incandescent white light. Then death, destruction, the broken and charred bodies of comrades...

It was Alondo who finally broke the mood. "What are we going to do about Shann?"

"She's coming with us. I had considered trying to persuade her to stay with Hedda or Moina, but that would put everyone at risk. We have no choice."

"But she's little more than a child, Lyall. Besides, where we're going isn't safe."

"Safer than here in a little while, I think. You were right not to tell her about the situation at her home. There's nothing she could do."

Alondo had a faraway look as he stared out of the window. "I know she suspects something. She asked why I was being so quiet on the way back from Lind." He smiled, "You know I've never been very good at hiding my feelings."

"She probably thinks you're just worried about our mission." He rose from his stool, walked over to Alondo, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shann is tougher than she looks. Besides, I can teach her to defend herself. We will both look after her. She will be fine."

Sure. Just like those poor devils at Persillan.

Lyall went to the door and called out, "Shann."

A moment later, she stood at the doorway dressed in farm worker's coveralls. Her face was flushed. She had been helping Moina feed and water the animals. "Yes Lyall?"

Lyall smiled. "We're headed for Gort."

"When?" she asked.

"Right now."

She wiped her hands down her front and headed for the stairs. "I'll get my things."

~

Shann sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, staring into the fire as it tapered and danced, sparks flying upwards to merge with Ail-Mazzoth`s ember glow. The flames made a pleasant crackling sound.

Only a few hours before, they had said their goodbyes at the farmhouse. The little party assembled in the yard as clouds were gathering, partially obscuring the late afternoon suns. The morgren were stamping their feet as if they were impatient to be underway. Hedda and Moina kissed the two men and the girl. Shann was surprised to see Hedda hug Alondo as if she would not let go.

Moina was fussing as usual. Lyall received the lecture patiently. "Mind you take care of that bandage now. I won't be there to patch you up. And take good care of the girl. I expect to see all of you back here safe."

Lyall forced himself to smile at his aunt. "Don't worry, we'll be back soon enough."

Shann addressed Hedda. "Please as soon as you can, could you get word to the Wayfarer in Corte? Tell Gallar and Poltann that I am all right, and that they should not worry."

Hedda stroked Shann's cheek. "Don't worry child; I have not forgotten."

They said final farewells. Then, with Lyall and Alondo leading the two beasts of burden, the little procession headed for the road that would take them south.

Shann took a last look back over her shoulder at the two women who were watching them depart in silence. Will I ever see them again?

A log within the fire made a snapping sound. Lyall was standing next to her, poking the fire with a stick, provoking it. The firelight cast a long shadow from his tall form.

A shape appeared at the edge of the firelight and moved towards them. Alondo dropped lightly to the ground next to Shann and grinned at her, firelight and shadow lending his visage a ghoulish appearance.

"No signs of pursuit," he declared.

"All right." Lyall retrieved his stick and began drawing in the sandy soil as the other two watched. "Two days to the edge of the Southern Desert." He drew a line. "Then five more days across the desert to Gort." He placed a stone to indicate the position of the fortress. "There are outposts here." He pointed. "And here, where there are water holes and supplies. However, I think it best that we skirt around them."

Alondo pursed his lips. "No point in taking on the Prophet's soldiers before we have to."

"Actually, I'm more concerned about them raising the alarm. The powers in Chalimar will no doubt have Ringed every town, village and outpost from here to the Aronak Sea."

"Ringed?" Shann broke in.

"Yes." Lyall turned to her, "You remember that I mentioned that there were different kinds of lodestone? There is a kind that allows two people to communicate at great distances. I don't know exactly how they work, but the Keltar use them. It seems unlikely that Keltar would be stationed at a desert outpost, but I would rather not take any chances.

"When we reach the desert we travel by night to conserve water. We rest during the day. Try to stay covered up to avoid sunburn. And keep alert. There are dangerous creatures in the desert."

"What happens when we get to Gort?" Shann asked.

"Yes, well... I have a plan, but I think it best we discuss the details when we get nearer our destination. If we can free the tributes, I believe many of them will join us. In any event, we will have dealt a serious blow to the Prophet's supply of the stones. And that is only the beginning."

He poked the fire with his stick once again. The fire coruscated into the night sky. What will be the Prophet's reaction when we start poking sticks into his schemes?

"At any rate, it seems we are not followed," Alondo offered, "That part of the plan seems to have worked, at least."

~

Keris sat on the bed in her room at the Silver Flagon in Lind. A small closet stood in the corner and there was a table by the bed with a bronze oil lamp. As Keris watched, it flickered slightly.

This investigation was taking its toll. She had arrived at the town in late morning to find that the Spring Gratitude Festival was in progress. Acolytes in red robes herded people into the chapel, relieving them of "offerings" and marking young people for tribute.

She needed information, but with the service in progress, there wasn't much more she could do but watch the proceedings. It struck her as ironic that the name had been retained; the participants looked anything but grateful. Before the Prophet's arrival, the festival had been a joyous, pastoral occasion. Now, gratitude for the Three had been replaced by "gratitude" to the Prophet, although for what she wasn't sure exactly. You're starting to sound like a heretic.

A burly acolyte stepped up and grabbed a youngster by the arm, yanking him away from his mother. Keris watched as the woman cried out and tried to hold on to the boy. A brief tug of war ensued until a second acolyte strode over and struck the woman in the face. She cried out as the boy was dragged off to have the flame marking of the Prophet branded into his neck. The woman fell to her knees. Hands covered her face as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Keris felt her eyes starting to water. What "grand purpose" of the Prophet could justify this?

"Faith," Mordal would say. "Faith and Patience." The words had a hollow ring as she watched the celebrants file silently past the woman, who was still kneeling on the grey stone floor.

There could be no question of her intervening. Keris the diamond merchant was a simple trader, nothing more. Keris the Keltar had no authority to interfere in the selection of tributes. She turned away, feeling as helpless as a flame at the mercy of every draught of air. The lamp by her bed guttered once more.

Keris centred herself on her obligation and her duty. It was time. She raised the back of her hand to her mouth and spoke a word into the Ring on her third finger. The Ring was bronze, set with a single dark stone.

"Keris." The Ring glowed with a delicate green phosphorescence as she spoke.

A moment later, the Ring glowed once more.

"Report." It was Mordal. He had never had any time for pleasantries.

Keris spoke directly into the device. "There is no word on the impersonator. He does not appear to be known by anyone I have spoken to. However, I have discovered that his accomplice fled to Lind, so I have journeyed there to pursue the investigation."

"Captain Sallidor has returned," the Ring luminesced. "He says you ordered him to return to the Keep."

His men attacked me! Keris realised that to tell Mordal that, however, would only make her reasons for ordering the withdrawal appear petulant. "He was making no progress in the investigation. He had executed an innkeeper and was only succeeding in antagonising the townspeople."

There was a pause. "I see...continue."

"Two people were buying up supplies in town yesterday. The man is a local musician. I don't yet know how he is connected. However, the girl fits the description of the impostor's accomplice. Among the items they purchased were two morgren from the stables."

There was another pause. Then Mordal completed the thought. "They are headed for the Southern Desert, the fortress of Gort."

"Exactly," Keris affirmed. "It makes perfect sense. Where would a man who wishes to free tributes go, if not to the compound at Gort?"

"I will Ring the fortress and make sure there is a nice surprise awaiting them at the compound should they make it there. Excellent work, Keris. How do you intend to proceed?"

"Well, I certainly don't intend to go stumbling about the countryside by Ail-Mazzoth's light. They have a day's head start at most, and they have slow moving morgren. It should be a simple matter to overtake them. Right now, I intend to get a decent meal and a good night's sleep."

"Very well, Keris. May the Prophet guide your steps." The Ring fell silent.

Keris extinguished the lamp and sat in the dark for a long moment. Then she got up and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Chapter 6

Shann looked tiny and distinctly uncomfortable clad in the flying cloak of a Keltar. It felt like she was being made to become the thing she most hated in all the world. This is necessary, she told herself. What was it Lyall had said? Once you understand the source of a tyrant's power, you can use it against them. She adjusted the fit across her shoulders as best she could.

"It feels a bit heavy," she commented.

Lyall stood opposite the girl, an identical cloak draped about his shoulders. "That's the downward pressure from the lodestone layer pushing down on the bronze layer below it. Try retracting the bronze layer a bit." She adjusted the control at her neck. "Better?"

She nodded.

"All right. The first thing you need to realise is that the flying cloak does not enable you to fly–at least, not in the same way as a mylar or any other bird. It would be more accurate to call it a 'leaping' or 'jumping' cloak. You remember the discs? Lodestones will push against all materials, but the push is greatest against other lodestones. There are naturally occurring lodestone deposits in the ground from meteorites which have been falling for millennia. We use the refined lodestone in the cloak to push against these deposits to gain lift."

"How do I do that exactly?"

Lyall gestured with his hands. "You need to 'feel' for deposits. It's something that will come naturally once you get the hang of it. Start by retracting your bronze layer very slowly, bit by bit. Stop the moment you feel anything unusual."

Shann moved the control slowly with her fingers. She stopped. "There, like a slight pressure."

"Good, now can you tell which direction it's coming from?"

"Over there." Shann pointed to the left.

"Come on." Lyall set off in that direction. "Tell me when you feel it move under you."

They set off across the broken savannah. After a little way, Shann held up her hand and they both halted. She turned to look up at him. "So if I can use my cloak to detect deposits, why doesn't the Prophet mine loadstones that way?"

"Because it just isn't exact enough. For example, the deposit you are detecting now. Can you tell where it is precisely? How large is it? How deep? Lodestone ore hardly looks any different from normal rock. You would need to dig and sort through tons of dirt by hand, and that would take a small army of Keltar. Can you imagine Keltar doing that?" He was smiling at her, and she forced a smile back.

"Anyhow, it isn't necessary," he continued. "In the Southern Desert the ore that falls from the sky is clearly visible on the surface. You don't need Keltar to find it, just a herd of slaves who don't mind dying from heat and exhaustion."

Which is why we are here, she thought. "All right, so what do I do?"

"Try jumping up and at the same time, extending the upper lodestone layer of the cloak. Remember, you won't travel straight up because there will always be some slight deviation from the vertical. Think of being pushed up by a fountain of water. Go on, give it a go."

Shann bent her knees and leaped up, flaring the cloak as she did so. She sailed upwards, stifling a cry as she did so. Her legs bicycled in the air and she tipped over, landing a few steps away in a crumpled heap. She got to her hands and knees in time to see Lyall, hands on hips, throwing his head back in laughter. She frowned, angrier at herself than at him. I'm never going to get the hang of this.

Still chuckling, he walked over, offering a hand. She took it and allowed herself to be pulled up. "Don't feel bad, everyone does that the first time. Actually, that was pretty good for a first try."

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Shann adjusted the cloak and brushed off the dust and sand as best she could.

Lyall looked as if he was enjoying himself. "All right, time for lesson two. Remember, the lodestone will always push you in the opposite direction. If you detect it to your left and you flare the cloak, then it will push you to your right. You can angle the cloak by twisting in the air, adjusting your trajectory. Try again, but this time instead of fully flaring the cloak, do a small jump and blip the control until you get used to the feel of it."

Shann felt the deposit to her right and behind her. She did as Lyall suggested and leapt a short distance to her left. She stumbled a little on landing, but regained her balance.

"Good." Lyall was clapping. "Very good."

He walked over and looked into her eyes with intensity. "The real secret to using the cloak is always to be thinking one step ahead." He flattened his hand to simulate her pattern of flight. "As you leap," he moved his hand upward, "you should already be looking for another deposit to push against or a safe place to land. If you detect another deposit you can push off it," he moved his hand in a different direction, "and remain aloft.

"Remember; always be thinking what your next move will be. And be careful not to over commit. Always leave yourself with a safe option."

Shann nodded thoughtfully.

"Now let me ask you something. What would happen if I leapt, and then at the apex, I extended the lower bronze layer in the cloak?"

Shann furrowed her brow. "The lodestone would push against the bronze and the bronze would pull away from it. You would be forced downwards."

"Quite right. I would be accelerated toward the ground, which would normally be a very bad idea." His mouth quirked a little. "However, there are some circumstances where you may wish to slow your leap, perhaps to angle yourself toward another deposit. Blipping the bronze layer can work as a brake, giving you more control."

"When will you show me how to use the staff?" Shann's face was eager.

Lyall chuckled again. "Patience, Shann. You have to learn how to run from a fight before you learn how to get into one." He looked up, shading his eyes from the suns. Ail-Gan was rising through a cloudless sky. Ail-Kar was a dazzling point of light near the western horizon. It was becoming distinctly warm. "Let's take a short break."

He headed for a low shelf of rock and sat down with a sigh, his long legs splayed out before him. Shann followed and sat down next to him, cloak still draped about her. He took out a skin bottle of water and offered it to her. She took a swig and handed it back. He quaffed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and replaced the stopper. They both sat in silence, looking out over the flat grassland. Here and there, tufted plants that she could not name broke through the sandy soil or stubbornly clung to rocks. A few even boasted tiny yellow and purple flowers.

She went over Lyall's training, trying to commit the points to memory, but there was something else–something nagging at the back of her mind. Fragments slowly converged, like a conjunction of the three suns, coalescing into a single inescapable thought.

She spoke the thought. "You're one of them, aren't you?"

"One of them?"

"You're one of them. You're a Keltar."

Lyall's voice was quiet. "What would make you say that?"

"Well," Shann began, "you have the same devices that they do: the cloak and the staff. But more than that, you understand them. You know how they work. Only the Keltar have knowledge of such things. And then there is the money..."

"The money?"

"You don't seem to have any work. Alondo is a musician, but doesn't seem to have a trade as far as I can tell. Yet you have more money than I have ever seen. The only other person I know who has that kind of wealth is the Prophet himself...."

She glanced at him with guilty expression. I shouldn't have said that. Lyall didn't react, however. He continued to gaze out across the rough heath. There was a long pause before he spoke.

"You are a very clever girl, Shann. But you are wrong... although it is true that there was a time when I wanted to be a Keltar more than anything else. And I did train as one, but I decided in the end that it wasn't the path for me."

"The cloaks and staffs–believe it or not, I obtained them legitimately, although many in the keep at Chalimar would no doubt be shocked to find out how. The 'offerings' he demands have made people short of coin and desperate. The parts can be purchased, if you know the right people; then they can be assembled if you have the right skills."

"You made them?"

Lyall laughed. "Alas no; that's Alondo's department."

He made that instrument he carries with him, she reminded herself.

"As for the money... let's just say I thought the Prophet's servants had a little too much to carry, so I relieved them of some of it."

"You stole it?"

"Well he extorted it from poor townspeople and farmers, so I suppose it depends on your point of view. We have to use whatever resources we can if we're going to defeat him, Shann. Besides, I think there's a certain poetic justice to our using his ill-gotten gains against him, don't you?" He gave a satisfied smile.

Shann was dubious. "I suppose."

"Come on." He pushed himself to his feet. "Shall we see if we can try a few more practice jumps? We will have to catch up to Alondo soon... unless you're ashamed to be seen with a self-confessed thief?"

She smiled in spite of herself and joined him for another gruelling round of training.

Later that afternoon Alondo the musician watched as two cloaked figures alighted on the roadway just behind their tiny caravan. He gave them a cheery wave. "Impressive. I see the lessons are going well."

"Indeed, Shann is ten times the student you ever were," replied Lyall. Shann looked down, embarrassed.

"That's only because I had enough sense to keep both feet firmly on the ground. Hey Shann, did he do that thing to you where he gets you to stand directly over a lodestone and jump as high as you can?" She looked up, recalling her ungainly landing. There was a moment's pause. Then all three of them burst out laughing.

Alondo turned to lead the morgren forward and Shann noticed his instrument was slung over his shoulder. She turned to Lyall, speaking in low tones.

"If we meet up with any dangerous beasts what does Alondo intend to do–serenade them to death?"

Lyall cocked his head to one side. "Well, I really don't know. Let's ask him, shall we? Hey Alondo?"

"Yes, Lyall?"

"Shann wants to know if we meet any dangerous creatures, whether you were going to serenade them to death." Shann shot a look of injured betrayal at Lyall, but Alondo merely appeared pensive for a moment before speaking in a cheerful tone.

"Well I'll certainly do my best!"

~

Keris the Keltar swooped low over the rock shelf, her flying cloak casting a shadow like an immense bird of prey. She landed and assumed a crouched position in one fluid movement. Only a few steps to the edge. She pressed herself to the ground and crawled across the smooth surface to the lip of the outcrop, quickly peeking over the edge as it jutted out over the pass. She had a view of the road a hundred feet below her, as it meandered through a cut in a range of low hills. The sides were steep and there was evidence of rock falls both young and ancient. They would be coming through here in a short while.

She was little more than a day out from Lind before she spotted the little party in the distance, moving slowly across the desiccated landscape, shimmering in an early morning heat haze. She allowed herself to get close enough only to make a positive identification: two morgren, three people, one tall, two shorter. The shorter one in front had strapped to his back what looked like a musical instrument, of all things. A musician, then, just as the stableman in Lind had described. There could be no doubt; it was them. The other short figure had to be the girl, reported to be the impostor's accomplice. That meant the tall one was the impostor himself.

Keris took a fix on their position, and then fell back, plotting a wide arc across country to re-join the road ahead of them. The route led through a constricted pass with steep sides. One entrance. One exit. Perfect. Their journey ends here.

Lying near the periphery of the shelf overlooking the ravine, she took out three lodestone discs one by one from the pouch at her belt, placing them in a small triangle at the edge of the overhang, on the side facing where the highway approached from the north. Then she reached in once more and took out a transparent globe, placing it carefully over the centre of the three discs. The Vision Sphere floated in mid-air, suspended by the pushing force of the discs.

Keris got to her feet and moved back a few steps out of sight, extracting an identical sphere and setting it carefully in a crevice. She turned it until she could see a fish-eye view of the road as it wound through the hills. The two spheres were 'Linked', but unlike the Rings, the Link was one way. She sat with her legs crossed and her cloak tucked under her, watching the sphere set in the rock surface, planning her next actions.

Three hostiles. Objective; neutralize two, retain one for questioning. Tactical assessment mandates isolation and containment protocol. However, common sense suggested such precautions were hardly necessary. A musician, a slip of a girl and a man who had delusions of being a Keltar. The impostor would have to come with her, of course, and he would have to explain how he obtained the cloak and the staff. But she was inclined to simply let the others go. They appeared to be no threat. At most, they were guilty of allying themselves with a madman. And she had seen more than enough unnecessary death and suffering of late.

A movement on the road below. The sphere showed a distorted image of three figures and two morgren rounding a bend in the gully. She obviously could not leap off a hundred foot drop on the off chance that there would be a deposit of lodestone to break her fall. Her plan was rather to allow them to continue through and to be waiting for them at the other end, where they would have nowhere to run. Time to finish this.

Keris picked up the sphere and returned it to her pouch, then went over to retrieve the other sphere and the discs.

A shadow. She made to turn, but was caught by a vicious blow to the side of the head. She fell heavily on her side. Her ears felt encased in fog, muffling all sound. She tried to open her eyes and had an impression of a huge shape, wings outstretched as if to claim her. Then a crushing pain in her side and in her right leg.

The searing crimson of agony faded to the absolute blackness of oblivion.
Chapter 7

Keris clawed her way to consciousness, and then wished almost immediately that she hadn't. Her head felt as if there were someone inside it pounding at her skull, trying to get out. She put her fingers to her temple; it felt tacky and her fingers came away stained in white blood. She tried to focus, but everything was a blur. Screwing her eyes shut, she forced them open again, blinking away a combination of tears and dried blood.

She was lying on a rough weave of branches and brushwood. Close by were four smooth convex shapes half as big as she was. Eggs? Panic rose within her like a gathering storm. She lifted her head a little. She was high on a ledge, the ground far below. A perridon's nest.

Keris glanced up, scanning the sky. A pair of mylars were circling nearby, but there was no sign of the great bird. There was little doubt that it would be returning soon, however. How did I get myself into this mess? No time to debate that. She had to get away, now.

Her staff was gone, but her cloak was still wrapped around her. She tried activating it, to feel the reassuring push of any nearby lodestones, but there was nothing. Whether that was because the cloak was damaged, or because there were no deposits close enough, she had no way to know. That left just one option. She would have to climb down.

She tried to heave herself upright, and then clenched her teeth in agony, nearly passing out again. There was a searing pain in her right leg. With a sickening jolt, she realised it was broken. She eased herself back, eyes filling with tears of frustration. I'm finished.

She lay back and closed her eyes. Not long, now.

She felt a downdraught of wind, heard a powerful flapping. She slowly opened her eyes. The perridon spread its immense wings, filling her field of vision. She could see its long tooth-filled beak and its yellow eyes like two burning candles.

A commotion from below. Now I'm hearing things. A stick or spear smacked the winged beast in the side. It squawked and turned to face its assailant, as a group of strange creatures appeared over the side of the nest.

They were about half her size, with six legs, or perhaps two legs and four arms; it was hard to tell. Their round heads were set into their bodies, with a layered underbelly and a segmented carapace covering their backs. Chandara. Keris had heard of them, but had never actually seen one. They lived as primitives in remote areas, never approaching Kelanni settlements. It was said that they had the power of speech, but that their speech made no sense. It seems as if someone is determined that I should be their meal today.

The Chandara were leaping and dancing in front of the perridon to attract its attention. Every now and then one of them would dash forward and thrust a stick at the avian monster, before retreating hurriedly. This was a poor tactic, Keris observed detachedly. They stood little chance of defeating the creature that way. Then she realised–they are not trying to defeat it; they are trying to distract it.

Before she could speculate further, she felt her shoulders being lifted under her. Another group of Chandara were supporting and manhandling her out of the nest. The movement caused another wave of agony to burst forth from her broken leg. The wave crashed into her brain and sent her hurtling once more into unconsciousness.

~

Keris felt herself rising gently from a deep sleep. Weariness enveloped her like a shroud. There was an ache in her side and another in her right leg. She shifted her leg in response. It felt whole. But it had been broken–she was sure of it. Had she dreamed the whole thing? Was she still in her room at the Silver Flagon in Lind? She kept her eyes closed and sniffed at the odd scent which reached her nostrils. Wood.

She opened her eyes. The room–no, more of a chamber–that she was in, was nothing like the room at the Inn. She was lying on a collection of furs, piled beneath her on the floor. The floor and curved walls were of smooth wood. There was no other furniture or decoration of any kind. She looked down, realising she was naked. How...?

Too many questions. She had to start finding some answers. She pulled a fur around herself and got to her feet. Her legs felt like jelly, and she swayed a little but managed to stay upright. There was a single small round window. She walked to it slowly, still feeling very fragile, and had to grab the low sill to keep from sinking to her knees. She bent down and viewed the scene.

She was looking down at a forest, from what seemed like several hundred feet up. The chamber she was in was itself set within an immense tree, the lower parts of its trunk swallowed up by the forest below. She looked up. The trunk stretched skyward, disappearing in a profusion of branches and purple foliage.

There was a movement behind her. She turned to see one of the Chandara standing in the low entranceway to the chamber. It was standing upright, holding a wooden bowl loaded with fruits by its middle limbs. She noticed for the first time that their limbs ended in three jointed fingers. The creature waddled over to the pile of furs and set down the bowl. Then it turned to Keris and spoke in a high, thickly accented voice. Its mouth seemed to ripple from side to side as it spoke. "You Must Lie. Soon After The Healing."

Not a dream then. Keris pulled the fur tighter around her. "Wh...where am I?" Her voice sounded in her ears like a croak.

"This Is The Great Tree." Keris moved to the pile of furs, half collapsing on them. The Chandara continued, "There Is No Perridon. You Are Safe Here." She flexed her right leg again, experimentally. A dull ache, but otherwise it seemed perfectly all right.

She gathered her wits. "My name is Keris. I am Keltar, on an important mission for the Prophet. I require your assistance. If you aid me, I will see to it that you are rewarded."

The creature looked uncomprehending. Then its mouth rippled in the same peculiar way. "I Am Boxx."

"I thought Chandara do not have names."

"Chandara Do Not Have Names." Keris was not sure whether it was agreeing with her, or merely repeating what she had just said. It added helpfully, "I Am Boxx."

Keris felt as if she were getting a headache. She tried changing the subject. "I need my things, my clothes that I was wearing when I came here. Do you know where they are?"

"I Know."

"Can you take me there?"

"I Can Take, But You Cannot. You Must Rest. Then You Must See Before. Then You Will Leave."

Keris leaned back, feeling exhaustion claim her once again. Too tired to argue.

"Rest Now," soothed the creature in its odd little voice. "Then You Must See Before."

~

Keris awoke feeling invigorated. She was still lying on her bed of furs in the hollowed out part of "The Great Tree." A Chandara was standing next to her, although she could not tell if it was Boxx, from earlier. She sat up.

"You Are Better." It sounded more like a statement than a question, but she answered anyway.

"Yes, I am, thank you."

It pointed a mid-forearm at the bowl. "Food."

Keris realised for the first time that she was ravenous. She helped herself to the fruit, keeping an eye on the Chandara, but it merely watched her eat without moving. The fruit was sweet and delicious and soon she was feeling full. She wiped juice from the side of her mouth, feeling like a little girl. The creature pointed to the small entrance to the chamber.

"You Come."

"I need my clothes," she pointed out. It seemed not to understand. "My clothes. The things I was dressed in when I came here."

The Chandara merely indicated the entrance once more.

"You Come."

With an exasperated sigh, Keris wrapped a fur around herself as best she could and followed.

There was a narrow path which spiralled downward along the inside of the vast trunk. Small windows at irregular intervals looked out onto stunning views of the forest and hills beyond, but Keris did not linger. They descended without exchanging a word.

The path continued down in a seemingly endless curve. Every now and then they passed other Chandara, which scuttled past them on all sixes. They were curious creatures, unlike any she had encountered before. In other circumstances, she might even have found them amusing. However, she was too preoccupied. She reminded herself that she owed these peculiar beasts her life. It might yet be that they would exact a price for that. She was feeling distinctly vulnerable. They already had her clothes and her equipment. They have me right where they want me.

Without warning, the Chandara turned through a narrow doorway. Keris ducked and stepped through after it. She found herself in a much larger chamber, filled with dozens of them. It looked like a disorganised melee. The creatures were pushing and climbing over each other. However, despite the apparent overcrowding, two areas were left clear; the one in which she was standing, and a second in the centre of the chamber where three Chandara stood erect on their hind limbs. The one in the middle was grasping a gnarled wooden staff with its left middle and forelimb. The one to the right carried a device that Keris did not recognise. In front of them, a thick branch extending from the floor was cut off, making a flat table about half the creatures' height. She walked forward, the creatures clearing a path for her.

The one with the staff spoke. "You Are Kelanni?"

It seemed an obvious and pointless question. However, Keris decided that the best thing would be to follow along and see where this was leading. "My name is Keris."

"We Were Asked To Bring Kelanni Here. There Is Great Danger To Your People."

"Danger? From whom?"

"From The Unan-Chinneroth."

The Unan-Chinneroth; the name given to the Prophet in the ancient tongue. It was used in services, though not generally in casual conversation. How did these primitives know of it? And why did they believe the Prophet to be a danger to the Kelanni?

"I don't understand."

The chief motioned with his staff towards the creature on Keris' right. The Chandara stepped forward and set the device down on the truncated branch in front of her. The machine had a circular flat base, silver in colour, with an intricate mechanism of silver, red and gold. The creature pressed a switch on the side.

A glowing light appeared and grew in the air above the apparatus, finally resolving into the image of a woman dressed in white, in a style Keris did not recognise. The projection shimmered slightly, giving it an air of unreality. The mouth moved, and a voice spoke from the depths of the machine.

"You are Kelanni?" The same question again.

"Yes, my name is Keris. To whom am I speaking?"

"I am called Annata. You must listen carefully, as I do not know how long this link will stay open, Keris. I am speaking to you from what you know as your past–three thousand two hundred and thirty-one turns ago."

Keris' mind reeled. "How is such a thing possible?"

"We were able to use the power of the white sun. It can be used to...stretch time, enabling me to speak with you."

"How–?"

"In my time the Kelanni are a great civilisation. We have advanced to the point where we have found out how to do many things that you cannot. However, a great disaster has befallen us. A plague is sweeping through our race. Whether it is natural or artificial we do not know, but our physicians and scientists have been unable to stop it.

"Some have taken to building ships to take us away from this world, but they can carry no more than a few thousand at most, and we are millions. So others like me have concentrated on trying to ensure the long term survival of our race. To that end, we contacted the Chandara, who agreed to help us. We chose them because they are long lived and because they communicate memory by chemical means, which is more permanent than any oral or written form. We then launched a series of devices like this one, so that they could be recovered by the Chandara at different points in our future, and we could discover what would become of our people.

"We learned that there would be a few survivors, who would start to rebuild. Eventually, through a boy named Kal, they would even re-discover the rudiments of lodestone technology. However, from the last device we were able to send, the one in your time, we found out that Unan-Chinneroth, the one you call 'The Prophet,' had taken control.

"The Unan-Chinneroth is not of your world, Keris. Tell me, do you know the meaning of the name Unan-Chinneroth?"

"No, very few people know the ancient tongue."

"It means, 'without a tail.' He is not Kelanni. His skin is white and his blood is red.

"His people arrived on the other side of your world and tried to take it over, but they were defeated. So one of them decided to build a device which would give his people absolute power. That device works through lodestone technology. However, in order to complete it, he needed to refine large amounts of lodestone. So he used his ship to travel to your side and proclaimed himself, 'Prophet.' Then he began to enslave the Kelanni there to produce the lodestone and build the weapon."

"Where is this weapon?"

"It was being built at the processing facility you know as Persillan. Eleven turns ago, there was a revolt at Persillan. The revolt was put down by the premature detonation of a prototype device, which destroyed the rebel force. The apparatus was then moved by ship to the other side of your world. It is being assembled on an island there, although I do not know its exact location.

"The Prophet intends to destroy the Kelanni and claim the world for his own people. You must neutralize the weapon. There is only one safe way to do this, and that is with the use of a special instrument. I do not have time now to explain to you how it works, but we have concealed it at a secret location in our time. It lies on the other side of your world. To gain access you will need a special key. I cannot tell you more, except to say that this key is designed so that it cannot be misappropriated or forged.

You must take Boxx with you. It is the key. And you must find other Kelanni who are willing to help you defeat the Prophet. The process requires four–four who can pass the test."

The only people I know like that, thought Keris, are the ones that are walking into a trap at Gort. Somehow, I have to get there first.

"You must traverse your world and cross the Great Barrier of Storms to the other side," Annata continued.

"You mean across the Aronak Sea?" Keris exclaimed. "That is impossible; no-one can survive the storms."

"There is a way." The hologram rippled, and then stabilised once again. "On your side of Kelanni there are two towers. Those towers contain vacuum hole displacement teleporters–machines that can be used to transport you instantly to the other side. You must travel to one of these towers. I will then tell you how to operate it.

"The Prophet must not discover what you are doing, or all will be lost. Nor must he learn of the Chandaras' involvement. They are taking an enormous risk by helping us. We owe them a great debt.

"When you reach the other side, I will explain more about the key. If anything goes wrong, seek out the Chandara on that side and they will aid you. They can also direct you to where the instrument that you will need to use to disarm the weapon lies. However, there is one thing you must know. The instrument itself is very dangerous. You must not allow–"

The holographic image suddenly fizzled and went out. Keris stared into the now silent machine. Could it be true? Was the Prophet truly trying to destroy the Kelanni? The woman from the past must be dead now, she realised; her bones long since turned to dust. Yet everything she had said made so much sense. She thought of those who had died– who would yet die. He had to be stopped. She needed time to think. First though, she needed to get to Gort. Or there will be more innocent deaths.

The Chandara holding the staff spoke up.

"You Have Seen Before. Now You Must Leave." He turned to the other Chandara on her left. "This Is Boxx. Boxx Is The Key. Boxx Must Go With Keris. For All Kelanni."

The Chandara crowded in the chamber were watching her expectantly. She raised her head.

"I am ready."

The Chandara on the right picked up the little machine and handed it ceremoniously to Boxx. Boxx waddled to a side entrance, Chandara clearing a path either side. Keris followed, ducking once more as she exited the large chamber. Another narrow path led down the inside of the Great Tree.

After a short while, Boxx led her into an anteroom. There was another table rising up from the floor on which her clothes were neatly folded, with her cloak lying on top and her pouch of lodestones beside them. Her clothes appeared to have been cleaned and mended and she was surprised to see her diamond bladed staff propped up in the corner. The Chandara must have retrieved it from the top of the pass, but how had they known she had been there? Had they been watching her?

She dismissed the thought and got dressed. Boxx stowed the contraption in a pack which it fixed to its back. The creature then led her back out into the passage and down a short way until it opened up into another large area. Sunlight was streaming through an archway at one end. They walked through and Keris found herself at the base of the Great Tree.

The gnarled trunk stretched away left and right and upwards to the very heavens. Orange, yellow and purple moss clung to its bark and red leaved vines wound around its lower limbs and spurs, lending it a festive appearance. Massive roots broke though the rich forest loam, before diving beneath it in search of hidden wellsprings. It was ancient; how ancient, Keris could not even guess. She saw Boxx regarding the Great Tree wistfully.

"The Great Tree; My Home."

Keris turned, heading off across the dappled sunlight of the forest floor.

After a moment, Boxx dropped to all sixes, and trotted off after her.

Chapter 8

Light was fading from the sky; casting sprays of orange and ruby red to merge with Ail-Mazzoth's sullen crimson glow. The smouldering hues infused the trees with a lurid radiance, making it seem as if the forest were ablaze. The Chandara did not seem to use names, but she had learned that Kelanni of ancient times had called it Illaryon. The name was vaguely familiar; it lay to the west of Chalimar and its dependent towns.

They were camped at the edge of the trees. Keris was seated on the ground, with her legs tucked under her. She was still wearing her cloak. Boxx was carrying a quantity of fruits in its pack, which Keris had supplemented from what she could find. She had not felt so well fed and rested for a long time. But she had found that there was a price to be paid.

She was used to being alone, to working alone. She had learned to rely on herself ever since her parents had left her at the Dagmar manse. As a worker on the estate, and later at the Keep and during her training as Keltar, she had concluded time and again, that the only person you could truly depend on was yourself. Oh, there were always people who would show an interest in you; who would listen sympathetically; who would even declare their wish to become your friend. But ultimately, it always came down to the fact that they wanted something from you. Everyone has their own agenda.

That is not to say that she was a loner. There were those at the keep that she regarded as friends. But she kept them at a certain arm's length. When it came to the important things of life, and especially when it came to her work as Keltar, Keris preferred to work alone. That way she could analyse, plan and find solutions without distractions. Distractions like Boxx.

It was like travelling with a small child. She had learned that Boxx was old. It did not even seem to know its age. "I Am More Than One Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Turns," it had stated proudly. Keris put it together in her head. That would be more than ten million turns. The woman from the past, Annata, had mentioned that the Chandara were long lived, but even Keris knew that was ridiculous. Nothing could possibly live that long.

"You can't be ten million turns," she replied dismissively. "You must have got the number wrong."

"The Number Is Correct, Keris," Boxx insisted.

It occurred to her that maybe the creature was senile. Wonderful. I now have a senile companion. However old it was, it was evident that it had never been beyond its tree home.

"How Old Are You?...Where Do You Live?...What Is A Keep?...Why Do You Carry That Branch?"

Keris felt as if she were on a school field trip. She tried to answer as best she could, but she felt her patience was being tested to the limit.

"What Is A Female?" The beast seemed puzzled when she didn't answer.

However, it was not its incessant curiosity that was the problem, but rather its speed. It was capable of trotting along at a fair pace; it was just that she could travel much faster using the cloak. She was not sure exactly how much time she had lost while recuperating at the Great Tree, but she knew that if she were to make it to Gort in time to intervene, then time was of the essence.

Thus Keris was faced with two difficult decisions. The first was easy to make, but difficult to execute. The second would be difficult to make, but easy to execute.

She began with the first. Raising the back of her hand to her mouth, she spoke into her Ring. "Keris."

There was a long pause. Finally, the Ring responded with an emerald glow. "Is it you, Keris? You haven't reported for two days. What happened?"

Well, that answered one question. She had lost two days. Time enough to overtake the other three and make it to Gort first, if she didn't delay. First though, she needed to conceal her true intentions.

Keris was not comfortable with deception. For one thing, lying had always been contrary to the precepts of the Three. It was quite different to posing as a diamond merchant at the Silver Flagon. That had been no more than play acting. It had even been amusing in its own way. Now she was going to have to play false to Mordal. Whatever else he was, he was also her mentor; the man who had guided and supported her; who had made her the person she was today. In a very real sense, she owed everything to him. And now I am about to betray him.

"My apologies, Mordal, I was...attacked by a perridon."

"By the Three, are you all right?"

"I...was injured, but I am fine now."

There was another pause. "I think you should return to the Keep, Keris. The fortress has been alerted to expect an attempt to free the tributes at the compound and the garrison there has been reinforced. There is no need for you to put yourself at further risk. Are you able to make the journey back here unaided?"

She was prepared for this. "Mordal, there is no need to be concerned. I suffered a mishap, but I assure you I am quite well. I ask that I be allowed to complete my assignment."

It was a critical juncture. If he insisted that she return, then she would be faced with a tough choice: obey the command to return and allow the party of three to fall into the trap Mordal had set, or disobey and show her hand, thereby becoming a fugitive herself. However, she knew that Mordal had come to trust her instincts. She hoped it would be enough to buy her the time she needed.

An eternity passed, before she saw the Ring's green radiance.

"I should know by now not to underestimate your determination, shouldn't I? Very well, but I want you to keep in regular contact. I will Ring the garrison commander at Gort and tell him to give you any assistance you require. I want the impostor apprehended and you back at the keep as soon as possible. Understood?"

"Understood."

"And Keris?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

"I will. Thank you."

She glanced over at Boxx. It sat opposite, watching her with bead like eyes and an odd quirk at the side of its mouth, but for once it didn't say anything.

It was time to carry out her second decision. Keris made preparations to bed down for the night, wrapping her cloak around her. Boxx followed suit, rolling up into a ball, so that only its carapace was visible.

She waited a long time. Whooping and chirruping sounds came filtering out of the flaming forest at odd intervals, as nocturnal creatures hunted and fled and ate or were eaten. The round shell that was Boxx did not move. She had no way of knowing whether it was asleep. In truth, she did not even know whether Chandara needed sleep or not.

She rose without a sound, and moved stealthily away from the tree line. Boxx did not stir. A line of hills rose to the east and south, silhouetted against the dark crimson sky. Beyond was the road south to Gort. She touched her cloak control, seeking the familiar push of lodestone. There, to the left and behind.

Keris leaped and flared her cloak and was gone.

~

Doubt. It was not a feeling to which Keris was accustomed. Her decisions were born from a sea of careful planning. Effects were carefully considered; consequences assessed; contingencies met. Thus when action resulted it flowed naturally, unfettered by hesitation.

Thus it was that she knew her decision to desert the Chandara was unquestionably the right one. Objective–deliver the three fugitives from the trap set for them at Gort. To be certain of achieving that objective she would have to arrive before they did. That meant travelling as fast as was possible. The Chandara would only slow her down. It was also a forest dweller, so she had no idea whether it would be able to survive in the desert. She was probably doing it a favour by leaving it behind.

Most likely the beast would return to the Great Tree once it realised it was alone. That was the only home it had ever known. There was a possibility that it might try to follow her, she supposed, but she planned to be far away by morning–farther than it would possibly be able to track. Eventually it would give up and go home.

The woman from the past had said something about it being a "key." Keris did not know what that meant exactly, but if it proved to be important she could return here. No, there could be no question, no doubt; this decision was the correct one. Why then did it feel so wrong?

Perhaps you still haven't recovered from that bump on the head? Keris smiled inwardly, but somehow it didn't make her feel any better. She was sailing up and over a patch of loose scree. She felt herself passing over a strong deposit to her right. Blipping her bronze layer to brake slightly, she twisted in the air to give maximum push to her left. She soared up the hillside and landed in a crouched position. Looking up, she saw she was near the top of the rise. In a moment, she would reach the crest and start down the other side. From there it would be a simple matter to meet up with the road heading south.

A movement caught her eye. A dark shape passed over Ail-Mazzoth's angry face, like a presage of danger. Perridon. Whether it was the same one that had taken her earlier or another, she couldn't be sure. She felt the reassuring haft of her diamond bladed staff as her eyes tracked the great bird. She watched as it gained height, heading west. Towards the forest of Illaryon. Towards Boxx.

Keris had a disturbing vision. The monster swept down from the sky, grasping the Chandara in its huge talons, and carrying it off, while the little creature screamed. It was ridiculous. The chances of such a thing happening would have to be pretty remote. In any case, she had no idea whether Chandara could scream, or even if they felt pain for that matter. Nevertheless, she owed her life to this odd little being and its kin. And she had abandoned it.

Cursing her own weakness, she turned and started back towards the forest.

A while later, she approached the camp. Boxx was standing upright, as if it were patiently waiting for her. She moved inside the line of trees, where they would be relatively safe from avian attack. The Chandara watched her for a moment then followed without a word. She lay down as before, and watched as Boxx curled up into a ball next to the bole of a tree. To Keris it seemed as if there was a smile playing about its lips.

~

"Remember, keep your staff up. And don't try shoving against a heavier opponent–which in your case will be almost all of the time."

Shann chose to ignore the none-too-subtle jibe against her diminutive size. The jokes in that area were beginning to wear a bit thin. Instead, she decided to go on the offensive. "Well, it seems to me that I am taking lessons from a person who lost the only battle I ever saw him fight."

Alondo shot a sideways glance at Lyall. "She's got you there."

Lyall adopted an air of injured pride. "I did not lose...technically it was a draw. Anyway, how was I to know that the Keltar was carrying lodestone grenades? That's hardly fighting fair."

"Oh, so you expect every servant of the Prophet you meet to 'fight fair', do you?" Shann retorted.

"She's got you again," Alondo grinned.

"Excuse me, whose side are you on?" Lyall demanded.

"Why, yours, of course. Can't you tell?"

Lyall was beginning to suspect that he was the victim of a conspiracy. He decided to change the subject. "Anyway, we will be at the fortress in two more days."

Shann became pensive as she was reminded of their destination. She began to wonder what she would face, especially as Lyall had been somewhat evasive about the plan. She had no doubt that it would be dangerous, and she was determined to be as prepared as she could be.

Despite her initial revulsion at handling the trappings of a Keltar, she found that she was actually enjoying her training. She had to admit that Lyall was actually a good teacher: patient, enthusiastic and with a good sense of humour. He challenged her without making her feel overwhelmed and as a result, her abilities were developing rapidly. She had even had Lyall flat on his back on a couple of occasions, although she was not completely sure whether he had allowed her to gain the advantage deliberately as a way of giving encouragement.

Using the flying cloak was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was exhilarating to soar like a mylar, feeling the air rush past her face and looking down at the tiny figure of Lyall watching her from below. There was a sensation of power.

Lyall brought her back down to earth by reminding her of the danger of overconfidence. "Most Keltar suffer from it. It makes them contemptuous of others, but it also makes them think of themselves as invincible. Don't make the same mistake, Shann."

The desert, too, was a place where overconfidence could be fatal. It was tempting to strip off in response to the heat of the day, but Alondo encouraged her to stay as wrapped up as possible during the day, to avoid the effects of sunburn.

When she took a sip of water, Alondo stopped her. "No, Shann. When you take a drink, you have to take a full draught, to sustain your body's vital organs. You know people have been found dead in the desert with half full water skins, because they allowed themselves to become too dehydrated." She nodded, and took a full drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. He smiled at her, encouragingly.

The road south was straight as an arrow and virtually devoid of traffic. They travelled by night, making camp a short while after Ail-Gan blazed forth in the western sky. Protected by awnings from the worst effects of the heat, they snatched what sleep they could. Lyall insisted that one person be on watch at all times. "There are dangers in this place; I pray we do not meet up with them." He ignored her questioning look, declining to elaborate.

Shann was beginning to think he was being overcautious. They were only two days away from the fortress, and had not incurred any mishaps, so far. They had even found that the second outpost along the road had a well outside that was completely unguarded, allowing them to refill their water skins by night, unchallenged. She doubted that the garrison at Gort would manifest such lax security.

Ail-Gan would be appearing soon, heralding the heat of day and another rest from their arduous trek. She decided to ask about the fortress.

"Lyall, I thought a fortress was built to guard something, but there is nothing in this place. Why would someone build a fortress out in the middle of a desert?"

"I am not sure. Some say it was not always a fortress, but was originally something else. Others say that in ancient times, the Southern Desert was a land of lakes and lush forests."

Shann cast her eye about the desolate sands. Shifting winds sculpted crescent-shaped dunes like the waves of a great ocean, frozen in time. But there was no ocean here. Dry and featureless, it was the very repudiation of life. Some people must have a powerful imagination.

An angry cloud was roiling in from the west. She watched it curiously for a moment. It was growing and advancing rapidly in their direction. Sandstorm? She reached up and touched Lyall on the shoulder. As he looked at her, she pointed at the incoming phenomenon. Lyall halted the caravan and squinted at where she was pointing. Alondo joined them.

The cloud crested the nearest dune and began barrelling down the slip face towards them. There were shapes in the cloud.

"Sand scarags!" Lyall yelled.

Claws clacked and mandibles snapped as the beasts surged forward, sending the morgren into a panic. Waist high, red brown and multi-legged, they moved across the sand at astonishing speed, forward chelipeds raised, eyes waving at the end of stalks.

"Shann." Lyall sprang forward, flaring his cloak, and lurched into the air in the direction of the oncoming wave. Shann took the hint and followed suit. They landed in front of the creatures and began whirling their respective staffs. "Watch out for their tails," Lyall warned. Shann saw that each of their tails ended in a bulbous appendage. A stinger.

Diamond blades flashed as they sliced through carapace and thorax alike. Sand scarags slumped to the ground while others scuttled around or over the backs of their fallen companions. Shann thrust her staff downwards, slicing the shell of one, and then pulling the staff free. As she did so, another one grasped her leg with its claw. She was pulled off balance and fell heavily to the ground. Looking up, she saw the sand scarag's stinger raised, ready to strike.

There was a blur of motion. A diamond blade severed the claw from its cheliped, and she was free. Lyall's hand grabbed her arm from behind and pulled her to her feet. The creatures were coming at them from the sides now. They were in danger of being surrounded.

"Fall back," Lyall called, and the two of them began retreating towards the caravan. The swell, which had been halted momentarily, began moving forward again. Dozens. Hundreds.

How are we going to get out of this alive? They were almost backed up to where Alondo was desperately trying to bring the morgren under control. The beasts of burden broke free and bolted. Alondo swore.

"Alondo, forget the morgren," Lyall shouted behind him.

Shann was thinking rapidly. If it were just her and Lyall, then they could leap away; outpace the sand scarags. But Alondo did not have a cloak. He was stuck firmly on the ground, and if they made their escape, he would be overwhelmed in moments. She cursed his obduracy.

Lyall called out, "Shann, get to the side."

What? She was standing squarely in front of Alondo, in an effort to protect him. The creatures were already snapping their claws at the end of her staff which she held outstretched like a pike. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Lyall had moved around to Alondo's flank.

"Shann, get to the side, now."

Bewildered, she quickly backed around to Alondo's other flank. Glancing at him, she saw that he had swung his instrument forward and had its tubular neck pointed toward the advancing line. He adjusted a control and hammered the strings. Shann felt a backwash of air, like a pressure wave, as a vortex of air and sound struck the oncoming swarm and knocked the creatures backwards.

He adjusted another control and attacked the strings again, this time with a rhythmic motion. A new vortex formed and began to resonate with the sand scarags' body parts. The line broke, and the animals scuttled to either side to escape the blast.

"Come on," Lyall shouted to Shann. "Just don't get in the path of the sound weapon."

The cloaked figures ran forward on either side of the vortex, wielding their staffs against the attackers. The sand scarags' numbers thinned as more of them fell and others scuttled off towards the open desert. Lyall and Shann backed off as Alondo swept the sound weapon in a wide arc. The air shimmered as the stragglers were knocked back by an invisible wall. They fled, kicking up puffs of sand as they went.

Lyall and Shann both stood, feet planted firmly in the sand, staffs held out in front of them, scanning the dunes for any sign of the creatures. A score of sand scarag bodies lay scattered about where they had fallen, but there were no further signs of movement.

"Is everyone all right?" Lyall shouted.

Alondo and Shann both called out, "Yes."

"Shann?"

"It just grabbed me; I'm fine."

Lyall seemed satisfied and adopted a more relaxed stance. Shann followed his lead and walked over to where he was standing. "I thought sand scarags were just travellers' stories."

"Yes, well, we very nearly fell victim to one of those 'stories.'" Lyall was still gazing at the horizon. Ail-Gan was lighting up the western horizon, heralding the onset of dawn.

She continued, looking up at him. "Do you think we are safe now?"

"For the moment." He turned. "Alondo, we need to get moving. Let's round up those morgren. Shann, see if you can help him."

Shann joined Alondo, who was straining his ears. They both heard a distant tinkling sound. Alondo grinned. "That's why they wear bells. Come on." He headed off in the direction the sound was coming from.

She trotted to catch up with him. "That instrument...armament...whatever it was you used. That was amazing."

"Well, it's nice of you to say so. Lyall may fly around waving his stick, but you notice it's always me he comes to, when he needs some real work done."

Shann laughed out loud.

Chapter 9

The desert outpost was a collection of rough stone buildings straddling the road to Gort. It was a depressing stop on the way to an even more depressing place. An outside well stood near the road, offering respite from the effects of sun and sand.

They were making good time. This was the second of the two outposts on the desert highway. Keris reckoned they should be at the fortress in less than a day. Boxx appeared to be adapting well to desert conditions. More importantly it seemed able to keep up with her. She realised that its pace had increased when she had taken the time to explain the purpose of their journey across the desert.

"If We Are After, Your Friends Will Die?" it asked.

"Well they're not exactly...yes, they will die."

"Then We Must Arrive Before."

Keris travelled as fast as she could, using the flying cloak. Boxx was a dark figure, loping along the highway below.

She landed a hundred feet or so from the outpost and walked up to the guardhouse. Boxx trotted up beside her. She hammered on the door. It opened, and a soldier with dishevelled hair and open tunic stood in the doorway. He looked annoyed; then his face changed to surprise as he saw the cloaked figure standing before him.

"Keltar?"

Keris concluded that the man must be dim-witted. "Your name, soldier."

"I am Geole." The man was rearranging his clothing into a semblance of order. "My apologies, Keltar, we did not know there was to be another one."

"Another one?"

"Another Keltar." She stepped into the guardhouse, and Geole noticed for the first time the Chandara behind her, standing on its hind legs. His expression changed again, to one of pure distaste. "What is that?"

"That is none of your concern, soldier." The creature dropped to all sixes and waddled inside. "Who was it who was here before?"

The man looked confused as if she were asking a question she should know the answer to. "Five Keltar were here yesterday from the keep at Chalimar, headed for Gort. They are expecting some sort of disturbance there." He added, "You were not aware of this, Keltar?"

"Of course I am aware. That is why I am journeying there now. I will rest here during the midday period. I require re-supply."

"Of course, Keltar. I will see to it at once." The soldier's gaze took in the figure of Boxx next to her. His brow furrowed, and he seemed about to say something, then thought better of it and left.

Five Keltar. If I don't get there first, they won't stand a chance.

~

The fortress of Gort rose above the desert sands, exuding an air of pure malevolence. Its walls were constructed of huge stones, with dark gaps like eye sockets. Battlements and pointed iron stakes were a crown of sharp horns. Massive doors of wood and iron stood open like a mouth stretched wide, its appetite insatiable.

It was a chained beast, devoid of all mercy and compassion, a symbol of tyranny and oppression.

Shann looked up at it, and a shiver ran down her spine. Lyall was silent. Even Alondo seemed to have been robbed of his usual ready humour.

Finally, Lyall broke the mood. "Come on." He turned and walked back to their makeshift camp. The others followed in sombre moods. Light from Ail-Gan was waning in the east.

The camp lay in a sand hollow, out of sight of the road. The two morgren stood patiently in the gathering gloom. Lyall rummaged in a pack and started building a small fire, talking as he did so.

"All right, let's discuss the plan. The tributes are sequestered in a compound outside the fortress to the south. There are no more than half a dozen soldiers on guard there at any one time. I suppose they conclude that the desert is an effective deterrent against escape."

"How do you know all of that?" Shann interjected.

"I...was there once before. Anyway, in order to set them free, we are going to need their help. It will be a coordinated assault from within and without. Timing will be vital. That is where you come in, Shann."

"Me?"

"That's right. We need someone on the inside, someone to tell the tributes about the plan to free them, but above all, to convince them to do their part."

The import of what Lyall was saying was slowly penetrating her consciousness. She frowned. "You want me to go in there?"

Lyall fixed her with his intense blue eyes. "I realise that what I am asking you to do is difficult. You will have to become one of them."

"You mean become a tribute?"

"That's right, Shann. And you will be on your own. But if the plan works, then it will be for no more than a day."

Alondo's face was drawn with concern. This is the first he's hearing about it, she realised. "Lyall, are you sure about this?" he asked.

Lyall was still looking into Shann's eyes as he replied to his friend. "You and I will be occupied with neutralizing the guards at the front. No-one else knows how to use that infernal contraption of yours. Besides," he grinned, "you look too well fed to pass as a tribute.

"Shann, you are the only one who can pull this off. If we manage it, the tributes will be free, and we will have cut off the Prophet's supply of lodestones. It will be the beginning of the end of the tyranny."

Shaan thought of the tributes, wrested from their homes and families and condemned to toil and die in this terrible place. She could help set them free. And all it would cost would be to live as they were forced to, for a single day. It was a small enough price to pay. This is why I am here. To free my father and mother and bring them home.

She raised her chin and met Lyall's steady gaze. "What do you need me to do?"

Lyall relaxed slightly. "First of all, you will need to pass as tribute. That means you will need to bear the mark."

Alondo's eyes widened. "You can't be serious."

Lyall's voice was low and firm. "She has to be capable of passing inspection. If she is found to be an interloper, then they will kill her and the plan will be lost."

"By the Three, Lyall, you are talking about branding the girl. She will bear the mark for life."

"It's all right, Alondo," Shann interjected, "I want to do it." Alondo looked visibly upset, but he said nothing.

Lyall got up. "Shann, take a seat here by the fire. I will try and make this as quick and pain free as possible." He went to one of the morgren and retrieved tools from one of the packs. He returned to the fire, and knelt beside it. The firelight gave his face a ruddy appearance. He fanned the core of the fire until it glowed hot. Then he placed an iron at its heart, until it glowed with the same radiance. He extracted the iron and pressed it to the olive skin at her neck. There was a brief hissing sound. She winced and Alondo looked away. Lyall pulled the iron away immediately and pressed a damp cloth to the wound. She knew that she was now marked forever with the flame; the symbol of the Prophet.

It's a small enough price to pay.

~

Shann dumped the lodestone into the ore cart, sinking to her knees as she did so. The three suns blazed down with unremitting brutality. She was already almost swooning with heat and exertion.

Inducting her into the tribute gang had proved to be simple enough. There was only a single guard overseeing the ore gang, no doubt due to his having lost a bet the previous evening. Lyall located a surface lodestone, and had Shann walk to the ore cart from behind the cover of a dune, as if she had just found it. She was clad in the same rough brown smock as the other tributes. The bored guard was only interested in counting stones, not people.

As she got to her feet, a thin young man with sandy hair came up behind her. Checking that the guard was looking the other way, he breathed into her ear, "Who are you?"

Shann turned to look at him and was immediately struck by the fact that he looked like a younger version of Lyall. His mouth was straighter and his cheeks were hollowed out, but there were the same piercing blue eyes.

"My name is Shann," she whispered. "There are others with me. We have a plan to free the tributes. Will you help us?"

"Are you out of your mind?" he hissed. "This is Gort, in the middle of the desert. There's no escape from here."

"We have a plan to get you out," Shann insisted, "but you have to help. Will you listen to what I have to say?"

The boy checked that the guard was still looking the other way and bent his head again. "All right. You see the dune over there?" Shann nodded imperceptibly. "Head for the dip side. I will follow in a few moments."

Without a word, she headed off in the direction he indicated. Soon she was out of sight of the guard. She turned and saw the boy she had talked to accompanied by an older man. The man had thinning grey hair and looked little more than a skeleton, skin stretched taut over his bony frame. It was he who spoke. He sounded terse. "What's this all about?"

"I need to speak to Leskin. Do you know if he's here?"

The skeleton man looked confused. "I am Leskin; who are you?"

"I have a message for you from Lyall. He says old man Ennas is well. He would like to see you again, but his sight isn't too good since Persillan."

"By the Three," the old man gasped. "Lyall? He's here? You must tell him to leave at once. It's too dangerous."

"He said you would say that," Shann observed. "I am to ask why you think he would do that, when he didn't have the sense to leave eleven turns ago?"

"It is Lyall." The older man turned to the youth. "It is the one I told you of." His brow furrowed as he addressed Shann. "But who are you? How–"

"There is no time now," she broke in. "Can you spread the word among the others? They need to be ready tomorrow, just before dawn."

"Very well." He gave a single nod, like a small bow. "I will do as you ask." He turned to leave, but she called over his shoulder.

"One more thing. Lyall asked whether you had seen Aune."

"I'm sorry," Leskin said. "She is not here. I don't know where she is."

"I see. Thank you. I will meet you at the compound later." She walked off in the opposite direction. As she rounded the side of the dune she reached into her pocket and took out a red bandanna, tying it about her head. It was the prearranged signal to Lyall and Alondo that the plan had been agreed to.

Wherever they were, she hoped that they would be cheered by the sight.

Everything was in place. Shann dared to hope.

We can actually do this.

~

Keris strode through Gort's massive wood and iron gates, long dark hair and ebon cloak stirring in the breeze. Beside her trotted Boxx. The guard acknowledged the Keltar, and then gave the Chandara an odd look. This is going to be a problem, she thought.

"I would speak with your commander," she declared. The soldier pointed out the casemate, his eyes straying towards Boxx as he did so. However, he was apparently discreet enough not to begin asking a Keltar awkward questions. She doubted whether others would be so circumspect.

She could not leave the creature out in the desert to fend for itself. Yet she had vital business to take care of here in the fortress. That left only one alternative. She headed across the mustering yard in the direction of the stables.

Individuals pointed and whispered, viewing the strange beast with a mixture of curiosity and repugnance.

"Keris?" The Chandara addressed her.

"Quiet!" She hissed.

The stables were a rough wooden construction adjacent to the outer wall. The pens were mostly occupied by morgren. Keris asked the stableman to point out a vacant pen and led Boxx there.

She got down on her haunches to be on its level. "Wait here till I return."

"Yes, Keris." It lay down on the straw, its legs tucked beneath its body. Keris got up and turned to leave.

"Keris?" it asked again in its odd accent.

"What is it?"

"Your People. Kelanni. They Do Not Like Me."

"It's not that exactly..." She struggled to find the words. "People are sometimes afraid of things that are unfamiliar, things that they do not understand."

There was a pause as if Boxx were digesting this. He added, "Does Keris Like Me?"

She found herself unexpectedly flustered. "I will be back as soon as I can." For the first time in as long as she could remember, Keris retreated.

~

Ferenek, the garrison commander, was reviewing a set of plans tossed casually across a large wooden table as Keris entered the casemate. Soldiers came and went, and there seemed little privacy. He looked up as the Keltar entered. "Thank you, Virdin, that will be all for now."

The soldier standing next to him nodded. "Commander." Then he strode away.

"Keris, isn't it?" Ferenek began. "We were told you were coming. Mordal has instructed me to give you every assistance in the matter of tracking down the impostor and his accomplices...interesting creature you brought with you. I would like to hear about it some time."

The man obviously had an efficient network of informants at the fortress. There seemed to be very little that went on here that escaped his notice, although it was probably difficult to keep anything secret for long in a place this size.

Keris got to the point. "I would like to review the defensive measures that have been taken at the compound."

"Certainly, although I am sure you will find them adequate." He shuffled the papers on the table and selected a ground plan. "Security has been stepped up on Mordal's order." He pointed a slender index finger at the relevant parts of the plan. "We have one detachment of soldiers, headed by a Keltar, at the guardhouse here, with a further four detachments and four more Keltar inside the compound, here. I am told that there are only a few hostiles, perhaps three. In any case, the compound has been put on high alert. I am confident that we can deal with any problems."

Keris pretended to study the plan in detail. "Yes, I see... Very good, Commander. I shall see to it that Mordal hears of your diligence."

"You are too kind, Keltar," Ferenek bowed slightly. "Shall I arrange accommodations for you here at the fortress?"

"Yes, please do," she replied. That is one bed I will not be sleeping in. "Now please excuse me; I have preparations to make."

"Of course, Keltar." Ferenek bowed once more.

Keris headed out of the casemate and crossed the courtyard towards the stables. The impostor and his party would make their move soon. She would have to be ready. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a disturbance. It was coming from the direction of the pens. She quickened her pace, and as she turned the corner, she saw a small group of youths yelping and throwing stones. Keris looked between them and abruptly saw the object of their assault. A shell, rolled up into a ball. Boxx.

"Hey there!" Keris shouted, and began running towards them. The youngsters looked up at the sight of a Keltar in a black cape bearing down on them. Panic was etched on their faces. They bolted in all directions.

Keris reached the Chandara. It was not moving. She dropped to her knees and touched its shell. "Boxx," she cried. "Boxx, answer me."

The shell unfurled, and a round head with small dark eyes popped out. The creature was shivering slightly. "Yes, Keris?"

"Boxx, are you all right?"

"I Am All Right."

Keris felt a surge of relief, followed by another of deep shame. The words of Annata, the woman from the past were ringing in her mind. "They are taking an enormous risk by helping us. We owe them a great debt."

She got to her feet. "We need to get out of here now. Can you move?"

"Yes, Keris."

They headed together for the fortress gates. A few people watched them, but did not approach.

As they walked, she heard herself say, "Boxx, I'm so sorry."

"I Too Am Sorry, Keris." Boxx replied. Then as if to reassure her, it added, "Kelanni Fear Things That They Do Not Understand."

~

Dawn was fast approaching. Overhead, a large meteor shower sent scintillating streaks arcing across the sky. Beside the compound, the forbidding walls of Gort rose up like a gigantic sentry. Lyall and Alondo lay flat against the sand, watching the enclosure. A collection of low wooden buildings, bounded by a rectangular wooden palisade, its single gate was dominated by a guardhouse. There were lights in the guardhouse, but the other blocks were dark, casting rhomboid shadows over the scarlet-tinged earth.

"All right," Lyall whispered. "Once we get to the guardhouse, I kick the door open, then you let fly with the vortex arm. I will take care of anyone who isn't immediately stunned by the blast. The tributes should deal with any remaining opposition within the compound. We distribute their weapons, take out the guards on the fortress gate as quietly as possible and then make for the armoury. Clear?"

"Sounds too easy." Alondo smiled in the darkness. "Shouldn't we give them more of a sporting chance?"

"Very funny," Lyall responded dryly. "Are you ready?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then let's go."

Both men rose up from the sand and started down the dune's windward side. Crouching low, they moved rapidly toward the guardhouse. They reached the foot of the dune and crossed the short distance to the gate. Lyall was already adjusting the cloak's control to feel for the push of lodestone. He leapt and cleared the palisade, landing inside the compound. As he turned toward the guardhouse, Lyall thought he saw a dark shape move at the side of the building. He looked directly at the place but there was nothing. Was it just my imagination? No matter. They were committed now.

Lyall went to the gate, and unbolted it. He pulled one side open just enough to admit Alondo. The gate creaked slightly and he winced, looking round but the silence descended once again. He motioned Alondo forward and they crept over to the guardhouse door.

Alondo had the vortex arm in the ready position. Lyall prepared to charge the door. Before he could do so, he heard a succession of muffled thuds and muted cries coming from inside. He held up his hand and listened. After a few moments, the sounds died and silence descended once again like a blanket. Lyall waited for long moments, straining his ears, but there was nothing. Finally, he reached back and kicked in the door. The door flew back on its hinges with a thump.

Bodies lay slumped on the floor, against walls and over tables. Unmoving. Lyall counted six...no, seven, including one cloaked figure, a Keltar. A lone figure stood over them in a terrible tableau. Another Keltar–a woman with sharp features and long dark hair. He could see white blood staining the diamond blades of the staff she held. Lyall stepped forward, raising his own staff on impulse.

The stranger raised a hand. "Hold." Lyall stopped in his tracks. The woman continued, "I know who you are and why you have come. You must get out of here."

Lyall was still holding his staff in a defensive posture. "If you know why we are here, then you know we are not going to leave. The tributes must be freed."

"You do not understand." The woman's eyes blazed. "They know of your plan. They are ready for you. There are another two dozen soldiers and four Keltar within the compound. They do not intend for you to leave here alive."

"But how–?" Lyall stammered.

"It doesn't matter how. You cannot free them. If you want to live, you must leave. Now."

"Who are you?" Alondo demanded.

"I am...I was a Keltar. You must go. Collect your morgren and take the road east. I will catch up with you."

Lyall looked around at the scattered bodies. "You are not coming?"

"No, I...have some things to take care of first."

Lyall felt as if he were in shock. There was nothing he could do. He turned to leave through the door. Behind him, he heard Alondo's voice.

"We owe you our lives, stranger. May I know your name?"

"Keris," the woman replied. "I am called Keris."

Chapter 10

Lyall marched across the yielding sand without looking back. Alondo had to jog to catch up with him. "Lyall, listen to me. We can't just leave. Shann is still in there.... Lyall!" He grabbed Lyall by the arm and pulled his friend around to face him. He saw with shock that the tall man's eyes were filled with tears.

He watched as Lyall seemed to collect himself. "I know. I will get you to a safe place. Then I'm going back there for her."

"You're not going alone, surely?"

Lyall turned and strode away. Ail-Gan was an incandescent yellow lamp, low in the west. Already, the temperature was moving from warm to hot. Pretty soon it would be oppressive, like a heavy hand over everything that moved.

Alondo hurried in Lyall's wake. "At least let me help," he pleaded.

"No." Lyall's voice was firm. "I won't put anyone else at risk over my mistakes."

"This is about Persillan, isn't it?" Alondo persisted. "What happened back then wasn't your fault, and neither is this."

"It has nothing to do with that. I...I just have to make it right."

Alondo was speaking to Lyall's back. "I understand. We will get her out. But let's come up with a plan first. We are no good to Shann if we're dead."

Lyall stopped and whirled around. "I was the one who sent her in there, Alondo. I am responsible. Me. I have to get her back."

"And just how do you propose to do that? Think, Lyall. Two dozen soldiers and four Keltar. Wasn't that what that woman said? You can't do this without help."

Lyall let out a sigh. "Look, I appreciate the offer, really I do. And I know you want to get her back as much as I do. But in this instance, one person on their own stands the best chance."

"All right, all right, but you can't go there now. The moment someone goes to inspect the guardhouse, the place will be in an uproar. At least wait a while."

Lyall paused, deep in thought. "Very well, we wait till Ail-Kar, the white sun rises. Then I will go in. You stay with the morgren. Wait till the white sun sets. If I am not back by then, take the road east. I will catch up to you."

They crested the windward side of the dune. Their tiny encampment sat in the slack; white awnings undulating in a gentle breeze; the morgren, standing stoically off to one side. Lyall and Alondo scrambled down the dip side, kicking up sand as they went. Lyall sat down in the shade. Reaching for a water skin, he took a long draught, and offered it to Alondo, who accepted it gratefully.

The two sat in silence for a while. Alondo wanted to ask what he should do if his friend didn't catch up to him–if he never returned. But he could not bring himself to frame the question. Instead he asked, "Lyall, how is it that they knew of our plan?"

Lyall was staring at the lightly shifting sands. "I wish I knew. Neither Hedda nor Moina knew of our destination. Even if they had, they would have died rather than betray us. Shann was with us the whole time until..."

"Until we sent her into the compound." Alondo completed the thought. "Could she have tipped them off?"

Lyall was shaking his head. "No, it's impossible. I know the girl. I've lived with her these past few days, worked with her. I know how she feels about the Prophet and everything he stands for. Besides, there is no way that they could have gathered six Keltar at the compound in that time. They must have known what we were up to long before that."

Alondo felt a surge of relief. Shann had an innocence and a vulnerability about her, coupled with bravery and determination in a way that was very endearing. In the last several days it felt as if the three of them had knitted together into a close family. He did not want to believe that she could have betrayed them. He quickly changed the subject. "There's another thing. Why would one of the Keltar turn on their own?"

"Why indeed?" Lyall mused.

"I know of only one other person who tried that. And he wasn't nearly as successful. He only had one Keltar to deal with, and he could still only manage a draw." Alondo smiled to himself.

"Are you ever going to stop bringing that up?" Lyall's annoyance quickly subsided. "Still, she took out half a dozen soldiers and another Keltar. I never saw or heard anything like it."

"And she saved our lives into the bargain," Alondo reminded him.

"True and I never even thanked her."

"Maybe you will get your chance?" Alondo speculated.

"I hope so." Lyall leaned back on his elbows. "I have a feeling we are missing a big piece of the puzzle. I also have a feeling that that woman Keris is the key.

"Anyway, I have an important job to do, so for now I need to get some rest. Can you stand watch?

"Certainly," Alondo confirmed.

Lyall lay down under the awning. Alondo watched as his breathing became slow and even.

I hope this is one battle you win. For Shann's sake.

~

As soon as Shann returned to the enclosure, it was evident that something was wrong.

A group of four tributes, one of whom was the boy who had first approached her, pulled the ore cart across the sand like beasts of burden. The cart had sleds, but was still apt to get bogged down on occasion, causing them to have to strain every muscle. The haul was poor, which made their task a little easier but also put the guard in a foul mood. As soon as any one of the four stumbled, they found themselves on the receiving end of a swift kick.

Shann trailed behind with the group of two dozen others. Two other ore carts stood out of the way beyond the gate, signalling that two identical parties had already returned. As they passed the guardhouse, Shann saw a group of four soldiers in iron-studded leather armour crossing the yard. Then two more. Then coming round the corner of a building, a dark cloaked figure. No, it couldn't be. A Keltar. What were they doing here?

She continued with the group of tributes as they walked towards the hut where they were sequestered. There was a sound from behind her. She turned to see two more Keltar coming out of the guardhouse, accompanied by more soldiers. Shann felt a rising sense of panic. Lyall had assured her that there were only ever a few soldiers on guard at the compound at any one time. What was going on?

She caught Leskin's eye. The old man looked at her but said nothing. They were herded inside their hut, and the guard bolted the door from the outside. A rough wooden construct, it was lined with pallets. Tributes sat or collapsed, exhausted. There were no windows. The last light of evening was filtering through a small iron grille set in the door.

The boy, who Shann had learned was called Roanol, came up and offered her an earthenware cup of water. "Lock down," he explained. "They must suspect that something's up."

But how was that possible, she puzzled? It had to be some sort of co-incidence. Then a horrible thought struck her. Lyall and Alondo–maybe they have been caught? No, they wouldn't have revealed everything in that short a time. And why would there be a need for extra precautions if they knew the plan had been foiled? Besides, where had all of these Keltar suddenly sprung from? There was clearly something very odd going on.

Whatever it was, it was obvious that the plan Lyall had so carefully formulated was now dead in the water. There was no way the tributes could stage a break out; it would be suicide. And with the increased presence, any frontal assault would similarly be doomed to failure. She had to warn them somehow. "Roanol, I have to get out of here."

His eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"I have to get out of here. If Lyall and Alondo go through with the plan, it will be a disaster."

Roanol had kind face, despite his starved appearance. His sandy forelock had a habit of falling over his eyes in a way that was at once amusing and endearing. In different circumstances, she would have been thinking of ways to get to know him better.

He shook his head. "That's impossible. We are shut in and there are guards outside the door."

Shann bit her lower lip. "I have to find a way, or they will be dead."

"Shann, I just don't know–"

Leskin walked up to the pair. The olive skin covering his face was like old leather. He addressed Shann. "The plan is off," he informed her.

"What's going on? What are all these soldiers and Keltar doing here?" she demanded.

"I have no idea, but it doesn't matter. Even assuming we could somehow get out of here, we couldn't possibly take on that many guards in the enclosure, let alone Keltar as well. I'm sorry, Shann."

"I realise that." Shann's hazel eyes blazed with determination, "but Lyall and Alondo are going to come charging through the front gate at first light tomorrow. I have to get word to them somehow."

Leskin met her gaze firmly. "I want to help them too, but not if it puts the lives of everyone here at risk."

"What if," Roanol interposed, "we were to watch for an opening to try and get Shann out? This emergency, whatever it is, can't last forever. There might be a way for her to slip away unnoticed."

Leskin considered this. "All right, we'll try it. But for now, the place is crawling with Keltar. All we can do is get some rest and see what happens."

"But–" Shann began.

"I'm sorry, but that's the best we can do," The old man's voice was final. He turned around and walked away. Shann stared after him.

"Don't blame Leskin." Roanol's fringe fell over his eyes once again. He brushed it back. "He's just trying to watch out for us all."

"I know that." Shann exhaled. "But I still need to get away." Then a thought occurred to her. She looked up at him and heard herself say, "Come with me."

Roanol regarded her for a moment. "You mean, escape?"

"Yes."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I am known, Shann. If I disappeared, it would be noticed. Others would be interrogated–tortured, to find out how it happened and who had assisted me. No, Leskin was right about one thing. The fates of all of us here are linked. If we are to escape, it can only be together."

Shann bowed her head; then looked up into his eyes again. "I don't know what's gone wrong, but I...we will get you out of this place."

He smiled, reminding her strongly of Lyall once again. "Yes, Shann, I believe that you will."

~

That night Shann tossed and turned as she lay on the hard wooden pallet. Her uncontrolled imagination explored every possible scenario of what might happen to Lyall and Alondo. Nearly all of them ended badly. I have to find a way out of here, with or without Leskin's help. She went over in her mind what she had seen of the enclosure. If she had the flying cloak, she could have leaped over the palisade easily. However, there was still a chance–if the two guards were out of the way.

She was wide awake when she heard a loud commotion. Dawn had broken. She rose quietly. Several of the others were up. She recognised Leskin and Roanol in the half-light. Roanol peered through the grille in the door, looking to left and right. "The guards–they're gone," he reported. "It looks like some sort of disturbance at the guardhouse."

It's begun. She thrust away the anxieties of the past few hours and started to think. There were no guards in evidence. This was her chance. She went to the pallet, and started pulling at the wooden slats. They were old and worn, and it was not long before one of them came away from its crosspiece. She broke it off, quickly bundling it up into the thin blanket. Then she returned to where the knot of people was crowded around the door.

She moved forward, touching Roanol lightly on the arm. "Excuse me."

He moved to let her through and she placed her bundle down on the floor. She had to stand on tiptoe to see clearly through the grille. She checked the position of the sliding bolt on the outside of the door. Then she reached inside her tunic and brought out a smooth black stone. The others standing around, registered surprise. She pressed the stone against the wall to the right of the door and moved it slowly towards the bolt. It seemed to slide over the surface without making contact. She heard a sound–iron scraping against iron. She moved the stone back and towards the bolt again, and then a third time. Finally the bolt was pushed far enough back and the door cracked open.

She opened the door another fraction and scanned the yard. It seemed clear. She picked up her bundle and turned back to see the group of despairing, half-starved people. Leskin was looking at her with a strange expression. Pride? Roanol stood behind him. He looked like a lost gundir pup. "Stay alive," she urged. "We will be back for you all."

Reluctantly, she closed the door and bolted it from the outside. She could hear raised voices coming from the direction of the gate. Two soldiers appeared from the side of an adjacent building. Shann swiftly moved around to the opposite side of the hut and pressed herself flat against the wall. The wall faced east, and Ail-Gan was still low on the western horizon, placing her in dark shadow. The soldiers seemed preoccupied in conversation. They walked past without looking in her direction. Shann allowed herself to breathe once more.

She heard a shout and the sound of running boots on hard packed sand. She had to find somewhere to lay low until the ruckus calmed down. The enclosure consisted of a collection of low, featureless wooden huts. There were no convenient crates or cubby-holes to provide cover. She could feel a sense of desperation welling up. Then the idea hit like a slap in the face. The ore carts.

If the tributes were locked down, then the carts would not be in use. No-one would have a reason to look in them. She should be safe there, at least for a while.

She could not see them from her current position, but she had noticed them on her way in. She edged around to the back of the hut, which was still in shadow. There was a hut adjacent to this one and then another farther on. They all held tributes and were presumably locked down in the same way hers had been. The adjacent gaps lay in open sunlight but if she dashed between them, she could get to the other side of the enclosure, near where the ore carts were parked. She glanced around the first corner. There was no-one in sight. Clutching her bundle, she darted across the sunlit yard. Ail-Gan hung in the sky as if it were looking for an opportunity to betray her. She reached the back of the next hut, and pressed herself against the wall as before, breathing hard in the shadows.

So far, so good. She crept along the wall and spied round the next corner. Again the view was clear. She tensed and began her charge across the open space. At that moment, two soldiers, a man and a woman, came into view. Shann careened to a halt and scurried back into the shadows.

"What was that?" It was a male voice. Shann's heart sank. She had been seen.

"What was what?" the female responded.

"Something moved over there."

"Where?"

"There, near the tributes' hut."

The woman snorted. "You're seeing things." Then she added, "Still, I suppose I can't blame you, after the business at the guardhouse this morning."

The man sounded distracted. "Six of our troops and a Keltar, all taken out. How could it happen?"

"I don't know, but I'll tell you this; when Ferenek finds those responsible, he'll have them strung up by their boot heels."

Shann's heart quickened as the news sank in. The guardhouse had been attacked, but no-one knew by whom. That meant that Lyall and Alondo were...alive. Maybe they had halted the attack and escaped when they realised there were too many soldiers at the compound? Or maybe someone else had tipped them off? Right now, she didn't care. Somehow they were alive. She was going to escape to join them, come what may. And then we come back here and free Roanol and the others. Renewed hope surged through her.

The man spoke again. "I'm going to take a look."

Shann moved like a flash around to the side of the building and hunkered down in the shade. The crunch of two sets of boots in the sand. Coming closer. She drew back further and shut her eyes as if the act would somehow render her invisible.

"Satisfied?" It was the woman's voice. "Come on."

"I suppose." The man let out a sigh. "This place is making me jumpy. What I wouldn't give for a mug of horge back at the fort."

"You drink too much of that stuff as it is..."

The voices faded off into the distance. Shann said a brief thank you to the Three.

She moved back and crossed to the rear of the third hut without incident. From there she could see the ore carts–her immediate goal. Checking that the coast was clear once more, she covered the intervening ground and reached the carts. Two were half full; one was empty. She clambered into the empty one, curling up and pulling the blanket over her, so that it covered her slight form.

Shann figured that the lockdown would have to last at least long enough for Ferenek's soldiers to do an extensive daylight search for those who had attacked the guardhouse. She could only hope that Lyall and Alondo were well away from here by now. Anyway, if the soldiers were busy chasing down the perpetrators, then they couldn't supervise ore collection at the same time. Still, I can't lie here indefinitely.

She recalled layout of the enclosure. The gate faced south, away from Gort's massive stone walls. The ore carts were not far off from the eastern edge of the compound. If she waited until they widened the search, there would be fewer soldiers here and she would stand the best chance of effecting an escape. She lay in the cart and waited.

Time passed. The suns grew hotter. The noises in the compound grew quieter. Shann decided. Time to move.

She peeked from under the blanket, over the rim of the ore cart. All clear. She rolled out onto the hard-packed sand, and reached back into the cart to retrieve the blanket and the wooden slat. As quickly as she could, she tied the end of the blanket to the wood and made a low dash to the palisade.

The upright stakes were set close together, more than twice her height, and cut to a point at the apex, like a row of sharp teeth. She swung the blanket like a rope. The end weighted by wood sailed up and caught the top of the stake on its spike. Shann tugged on the blanket, and then climbed up. As she neared the top, she felt the blanket starting to rip. With a swift movement, she grabbed on to the rough wooden spike, hauling herself up.

From the top of the palisade, she looked over the outside edge. There was someone there, near the palisade. A black cloaked figure with their back to her. A Keltar. Then a noise from inside the enclosure. She looked back over her shoulder. The sound of a group of soldiers coming from the direction of the guardhouse. Any moment now, they would come into sight and would spot her on top of the palisade and it would be over. There was no choice. She was committed.

She pulled the end of the blanket up and tossed it over the outside of the enclosure. Then, swinging around, she yanked the piece of wood from the blanket, and dropped as swiftly and silently as she could to the sand, landing just behind the cloaked figure. She raised the makeshift club, and brought it down on the back of the Keltar's neck. At the last moment, a distant part of her mind registered something naggingly familiar about the unruly shock of sandy hair, causing her to pull back slightly. Crack! The Keltar staggered forward from the impact nonetheless. He turned, his left hand clutching the nape of his neck, and her eyes widened in disbelief. "Lyall! What are you doing here?"

His face was screwed up in pain. "Trying to rescue you. Although right now, it feels more like I need to be rescued from you." As if to emphasise the point, he massaged his neck. "Owww!"

"I'm sorry, I thought you were..." She shook her head. Then she stepped forward and supported him by the arm. "Come on, let's get out of here."

~

Alondo rose to his feet as he saw two figures crest the edge of the dune above the tiny encampment. They were an odd pairing, one tall, with a black cape, topped with a mop of fair hair; the other short, clad in the tan coverall of a tribute. He grinned from ear to ear and began running towards them.

He grabbed the petite girl by the shoulders at arm's length, and regarded her, as if checking the evidence of his own eyes. "You actually did it; you got her out."

"I appreciate your faith in me, Alondo, but I didn't do anything. She escaped on her own."

"You escaped on your own?" Alondo asked in disbelief. "How–?"

"Just be glad she's on our side." Lyall rubbed the back of his head.

"I told you, that was an accident," she protested. "I just–" she stopped in mid-sentence. Lyall was smiling. She hit him playfully on the arm.

"Owww."

Alondo's grin widened again. "So...what now?"

"Time to pack up and leave." He headed for the encampment. Shann and Alondo tagged along behind.

"What about Roanol and the others?" Shann called after Lyall.

"Who?" Alondo probed.

"Roan–I mean the tributes at the compound," she corrected.

"Don't worry Shann, I haven't forgotten them," Lyall assured her.

"Roanol, eh?" Alondo whispered in her ear.

"Shhh!" Shann's look was threatening.

They began taking down the awnings and packing away the other gear. "Where are we headed?" Shann asked Lyall.

"The road east."

"What's our destination?"

Lyall paused. "Well to be honest, I'm not completely certain. But there's someone I'm hoping to meet along the way."

Chapter 11

Keris swept over the smooth sands of the Southern Desert and entered the forbidding gates of Gort. The guards on duty barely had time to acknowledge her passing. I must be swift. Any moment now, word would spread of the attack on the compound, and the fortress would be on high alert. She needed to buy some time, and for that she needed a diversion. She hurried in the direction of the barracks.

It was shortly after dawn, but most of the fortress' inhabitants were up and about. More importantly, the garrison would have mustered for the day's activity; hence the barracks should be all but deserted. She entered one of the low wooden buildings, and poked her head inside the sleeping quarters. As expected, they were deserted.

She stepped inside and calmly reached into the pouch at her belt, bringing out a lodestone grenade. Placing her other hand over it, she gave it one half twist and tossed it toward the bunks at the far end. There was a low whine, increasing in pitch, followed by an explosion of white light and heat. Flames and then smoke rapidly took hold of the bunks and the wooden floor. She stepped back, twisting the top half of another silver coloured sphere and threw it toward the other end of the barracks, bringing another blossoming of light and flame.

There was something strangely satisfying, even cathartic about her actions. During the violence of the events at the guardhouse, she had been detached, professional. Her body and her staff had moved automatically in response to the need to remove the hostile threat–without emotion, without thought. Afterward, though, as she surveyed the carnage she had wrought, the lives she had taken, she felt physically sick. She had acted to save the lives of others, but she still felt sullied by all that she had been forced to do up to this point.

Now, as she watched the flames lick upward, consuming the barracks, it felt as if she were purging herself, expunging forever her old life of service to a creature who was determined to destroy everything she held dear, to achieve his own ends.

What her new life would hold for her she did not know but for the first time in a long while, she felt clean. For now, that was enough.

She turned and exited the burning barracks, heading for the armoury.

The armoury building was a short distance away, near the casemate. Keris waited near the stone wall of the fortified structure, feigning a preoccupation with her equipment. All too soon, there were frenzied shouts from the direction of the barracks. Soldiers began running towards the source of the disturbance, and moments later were joined by the two guards from the armoury itself. Keris waited until they were out of sight, and then slipped inside.

The inner room was poorly lit. Wooden shelves set into the rough stone walls were packed with equipment and boxes. A few crates were stacked against the far wall. Keris found a small sack and began rapidly poring over the items on display, locating what she needed. She worked quickly, replacing anything that she disturbed. Then, tying the sack to her belt, she left the armoury, checking that no-one saw her.

She needed just one more thing. Hurrying across the worn stone cobbles, she made for the Commander's office.

The office was inside the casemate, at the far end. She entered and saw no-one around. They were all at the barracks no doubt, trying to bring the inexplicable fire under control. The office door was not locked. Her eye scanned the interior and settled on a loose collection of books and scrolls on a table off to one side. She rifled through them, selecting the scroll she needed and stuffing it into her sack.

She turned to leave and stopped. A figure stood in the doorway clad in a rich russet surcoat over leather armour, barring her exit. He was shorter than she was, but still carried an imposing air. His thin features transformed into a visage of pure contempt. His tail twitched in agitation. "You!"

Keris reached behind her and grasped her staff. "Get out of my way, Ferenek."

Ferenek did not move. "I should have known when you turned up with that...that thing, that you were up to no good." Keris felt her ire kindle at the description of Boxx. "Why would a Keltar, a sworn servant of the Prophet, turn against their own? Answer me!"

"The Prophet is not who he claims to be." Keris met his piercing gaze. "He is not Kelanni. He wants to bring about our destruction as a people."

"You're mad!" he exclaimed.

"No," her voice was calm. "We are being deceived. Ask yourself, why would the Prophet enslave so many? Why does he need so much of the lodestone? Why has he never revealed his true purpose?"

Ferenek looked a little less sure of himself. "I am a soldier," he declared. "It is not my place to question doctrine."

"You are not a new born dagan," she countered, "that you should run with the herd over a cliff. Use your head. Ask questions. See whether what I say is true or not."

Ferenek shook his head, as if trying to free himself from the disquieting thoughts she had planted there. "You must be returned to Chalimar to answer for what you have done. I will not let you pass." He drew his short bladed weapon.

In a single movement, Keris knocked the blade away with one end of her staff and brought the other end down against his temple. The man crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She stepped over the unconscious form.

Yes, you will.

~

It was not a killing blow. Ferenek would wake up with a bad mood and a splitting headache, but no more. She reflected on her short discussion with the man. Ferenek might be overly attached to form and discipline, but he was not a bad man. If she had had more time, she might have been able to get through to him. She could rely on the fact that he would be making a full report to Mordal of her actions. It hardly mattered; she had no intention of returning to the keep.

Keris hurried out of the casemate and made her way towards the main gate. Clouds of smoke were billowing up from the direction of the barracks. The few people who saw her hurried past, paying her no attention.

She tried to imagine what Mordal's reaction would be. She was convinced that she was doing the right thing; all the same, she did not enjoy the thought of disappointing him. She was in a very real sense his protégé, the person he had nurtured to be his successor. He believed that the Prophet's way was right, but he had also instilled in her a love for the Kelanni people and a desire to protect them.

"The people need us," he would insist, "to keep them on the path, and to prevent them being manipulated by others. We must not let them down." You trained me too well.

A thought occurred to her. If she could convince Mordal of the Prophet's true intentions, then she would have a powerful ally. Mordal had said that he trusted her instincts. Maybe it was time to put that trust to the test? She looked at the back of her hand. The lodestone ring was dark, but it was still Linked to one held by Mordal. She had considered throwing it away, but now she thought better of it. She did not know if he would listen, but if he didn't, then she would not have lost anything. I have to try to explain–I owe him that much.

She passed through the gate and turned right, trudging through the sand beneath Gort's imposing walls. Passing out of sight of the gate, she came to the eastern side of the massive bulwark. There, propped up against the outer wall, were a haphazard collection of loose timbers, as if left there by a work crew. Keris pulled the timbers apart and located a sack. As she loosened the neck, the sack moved, and a round head with bead-like eyes popped out. The mouth rippled. "Is It Time To Leave, Keris?" Boxx asked in its high, child-like voice.

She helped untangle it from the sack. "Yes, it is time to leave."

~

They've caught up to us. Shann saw the dark-robed Keltar slice through the air and alight on the road in front of them, like a thrown down challenge. I'm ready for you.

She pulled her staff free of the saddle pack, and ran to meet the tall woman with dark flowing hair. She stopped a few steps away and planted both feet in the sand, holding the staff in front of her with both hands, daring the foul servant of the Prophet to take one more step. Shann was still dressed in the tan coverall of a tribute.

The tall woman stood in the road calmly, not reacting to the other's provocative gesture.

From behind her, she heard Lyall call her name, "Shann." His tone of voice was not one of encouragement. It sounded sharp, more like a rebuke. Confused, she turned her head to see him walk past, coming between her and the imposing woman. He stopped before the Keltar and bowed. "Welcome–Keris, isn't it? I am honoured to make your acquaintance at last. I am Lyall. The other man over there by the morgren, who also owes you his life, is Alondo. And our overly zealous companion here," he indicated the girl behind him, who was still poised to do battle, "is called Shann." He turned to face the girl. "Put the staff away, please, Shann."

Shann complied, feeling a detached sense of unreality, as if she had somehow fallen asleep and was trapped within her own fevered imaginings. What's going on?

"Forgive me," Lyall was saying, "the girl's reaction is my fault. I had not explained the nature of our escape from the compound or your part in it..." His voice trailed off as he saw a creature with jointed legs and a segmented shell scamper across the sand and come to a halt next to the Keltar. It stood up on its rear legs, appraising them. "That is a Chandara, is it not?" His voice was filled with wonder.

"Indeed," Keris spoke up. "It is part of the reason I am here. I am sure you must have many questions. Ail-Gan will be rising soon. If you would like to make camp, then I would be pleased to tell you of the events that have led me here.

Lyall nodded. "Alondo," he called out, "we make camp here. Break out the awnings and see what rations we have left. We have a guest for dinner."

~

The wind dropped and the air fell to stillness as Keris began her story. She told of her meeting with Mordal, and her orders to find the one who had attacked a Keltar, bearing the cloak and staff. Her investigation in Corte that had led her to the Inn where Shann worked, and her discovery that the Innkeeper had been executed.

Shann, who had been looking distinctly uncomfortable listening to the words of a Keltar, suddenly rounded on the woman. "Poltann is dead? You...you killed him?"

"By the time I arrived, the execution had already taken place," Keris explained.

"What about Gallar? What happened to her?"

"Gallar?" Keris inquired.

"She...worked at the Wayfarer."

"I'm sorry; I don't know what happened to anyone else. The Captain acted beyond his orders. I did the only thing I could, which was to order the soldiers to return to Chalimar to ensure that there were no further executions. The innkeeper was the only person who died, of that I am sure."

Alondo broke in; his voice charged with empathy. "I'm sorry, Shann. There was nothing you could have done."

"You knew about this?" She exclaimed. Alondo lowered his head.

"It was too dangerous for you to return to Corte." Lyall was firm. "We arranged for Hedda to travel there to see what had become of Gallar, your guardian. If she is alive, then Hedda will see to it that she is safe."

Shann fell silent, seemingly mollified for the present.

Keris went on to describe how she had trailed them from Corte to Lind, and had caught up with them at the pass.

"I was preparing to intercept you, when I was...taken by a perridon." She saw Lyall raise his eyebrows. "I was preoccupied at the time. Anyway, it knocked me unconscious and carried me to its nest. The Chandara rescued me."

Lyall looked over at the strange little beast. It lay perfectly still next to Keris. It was not clear whether it was even listening. "I have never heard of Chandara leaving their forest."

"They were seeking a Kelanni. I am not sure, but I think it was just co-incidence that I was the one they found. They saved me from the perridon and brought me back to their Great Tree. I think they even healed my broken leg somehow. I don't remember much, except that when I woke up in the Tree, I was whole."

"Incredible." Lyall seemed lost in thought.

"They waited for me to recover. Then I was taken to an audience chamber, where they activated this..." Keris reached into the pack on the creature's back. It did not react. She drew out the silver machine with its multi-coloured workings.

Alondo reached a hand out. "May I?" She handed him the device and he inspected it closely, turning it over in his hands. "Fascinating," he breathed.

"What is it?" Lyall asked.

Alondo's voice sounded far away. "I have absolutely no idea. But it's beautiful...very sophisticated. I've never seen anything quite like it." He looked at Keris enquiringly. "Who made it?"

"It comes from more than three thousand turns ago."

Alondo regarded her with an expression of disbelief. "How could you possibly know that?"

"It spoke to me," she maintained. "There was the image of a woman from the past, who called herself 'Annata'. Somehow, she sent the machine to us, to warn us about the Prophet. He is building a device to destroy the Kelanni."

Lyall leaned forward. "Did she say where this device is?

"Not precisely. She said that it was being constructed at Persillan, but that after the revolt there eleven turns ago, it was moved to an island that lies somewhere beyond the Great Barrier of Storms."

Lyall looked at Alondo. "The bronze coloured globe," he offered. Alondo nodded slightly.

Keris looked from one to the other. "The what?"

Lyall turned back to Keris. "We...heard that there was a device found at Persillan at the time of the revolt. Also that the revolt was ended by an explosion of great power."

"Really?" Keris was intrigued. "The revolt happened before I was appointed as Keltar. We were never told any details, other than that the Prophet had been victorious." I wonder if Mordal knows about this; it might make it easier to convince him.

Shann appeared to rouse from her self-absorbed state. "You're saying there's a woman in that thing? She must be no higher than my hand."

"Keris said it was the image of a woman, Shann," Lyall reminded her.

"All right, prove it. Show her to us," Shann demanded.

Lyall considered this. "Can you activate the device, Keris?"

Keris shook her head. "I'm sorry; I don't know how it works. It was the Chandara who operated it last time."

Their eyes turned to the creature. It lay with its head on the sand, unconcerned.

"Chandara–" Lyall addressed it.

"Its name is Boxx," Keris put in.

"Your Chandara has a name?" Alondo registered surprise.

Lyall's forehead creased, as if he were trying to remember a half forgotten song. "That's very interesting."

"How so?" Keris asked.

"Well in the Ancient tongue, 'Boxx' means 'Key.'"

You must take Boxx with you. It is the key. That was what the woman Annata had said.

Keris was curious. "How is it you know Ancient?"

"It...used to be a hobby of mine." Lyall gave a half smile. "Boxx, can you operate this machine?"

The Chandara raised its head "Yes."

"Then please, would you do so?" Lyall motioned to Alondo, who placed the machine in the sand, directly in front of Boxx. The creature reached out a foreleg and touched a control on the side. A series of lights appeared on the base of the machine. They all glowed red, except for the one on the far left, which was a steady yellow. The party watched expectantly, but nothing else happened.

"I don't see any 'woman,'" Shann said flatly.

Lyall ignored her. "Boxx, where is the woman that appeared to Keris?"

"She Cannot Speak Until The Time."

"What time?" Lyall enquired.

"The Time Of Her Speaking."

Keris smiled ruefully. "I should have warned you, having a conversation with one of these is a unique experience. I usually feel a headache coming on about now."

Lyall was not one to give up easily. "Boxx, when is the time of her speaking?"

"In Two Zero One Turns."

Alondo figured it up. "That's more than a whole turn of the season."

Lyall threw up his hands. "Well, we can't wait that long for answers."

"I wouldn't put too much store by what it says," Keris cautioned. "I asked it its age before, and it replied that it was more than ten million turns old. Annata said that it was the key to an instrument that could be used to disarm the Prophet's weapon safely. The instrument too lies beyond the Great Barrier."

Lyall appeared to be deep in thought. Then he addressed the Chandara. "Boxx, what is the key?"

"I Am The Key," it affirmed, in its strange lilting voice.

"How does the key work?"

"You Are The Key," it stressed.

"I thought you said you were the key," Shann pointed out.

"I Am," it stated proudly.

Keris laughed, shaking her head. "I warned you."

Lyall sat back, temporarily admitting defeat. Then the Chandara spoke up. "Does Keris Wish Me To Speak The Key?" There was a pause. "I Can Speak The Key Only To Keris."

All eyes turned to look at the Keltar. Keris made a 'how should I know,' expression. Then she turned to the Chandara. "Boxx, please speak the key."

It sat up on its hind legs and began to chant, "One Two One Zero Two Zero Two One One Zero One Two One Two Zero Zero Two One–"

"Boxx," Keris interrupted.

"Yes, Keris."

"What are you doing?"

"I Speak The Key," it confirmed. Then it added, "The Key Is Not Complete."

"That's all right, never mind."

"You Are The Key," it insisted.

"Yes, thank you," Keris dismissed the creature.

There was another pause. Finally it was Alondo who spoke up. "Well, what does anyone think?"

"I think I have a headache," Lyall commented wryly.

"Aren't we forgetting something?" Shann pointed out. "The Great Barrier of Storms."

"Keris," Lyall asked, "did Annata say anything about how we were to cross the barrier?"

"Yes she did, and I've been thinking about that. She said that on our side of the world there were two towers that could somehow send us to the other side, without having to pass through the storms. She said she would explain how, when she next contacted us.

"I think one of them must be the Dagmar Tower, situated on the estate where I grew up. The tower is ancient–no-one knows who built it and it has lain abandoned for as long as I am aware. However, its proximity to Chalimar means that the country around it will be thick with soldiers and Keltar. Given our current standing with the authorities, I don't think we stand a chance of getting anywhere near it. So I 'borrowed' something from Ferenek, the commander at Gort, that I believe will help us to find the other tower."

"But...what about the tributes at Gort?" Shann sounded agitated.

"It seems we have a bigger problem now," Lyall declared. "If the Prophet manages to complete this weapon, then all Kelanni will be threatened, not just the tributes. We have to stop him. It is up to us."

"But the tributes will be executed after the incident at the compound," Shann protested.

"I seriously doubt that," Keris reassured her. "The tributes were not involved in what happened. Ferenek is a ruthless man, but he is also ambitious. Execution of tributes would lead to a drop in lodestone ore production, and Ferenek would not want to be in the position of having to explain that to the authorities at Chalimar."

Shann clammed up but still looked distinctly unhappy.

"Well, I am sure there will be a lot more to discuss, but for now, I think we could all do with some rest. I will take first watch. Then Keris, Alondo and Shann. All right?"

There was a murmur of agreement. Alondo and Shann made preparations to bed down in the shade of the awnings. Keris lingered. In a few moments, she was alone with Lyall. She had not known what to expect of this lanky, fair-haired man who had posed as a Keltar and tried to free tributes all on his own. She had wondered whether he was madman or saint, and was relieved that he seemed to be neither. He had a way of taking charge of a situation and of inspiring those around him. She could see why Alondo and Shann had attached themselves to him. He was regarding her curiously.

She decided to come straight to the point. "There was one more thing that the woman from the past said that I didn't mention, because it didn't seem relevant and to be honest, I'm not sure what it means. You have heard the Prophet referred to as the 'Unan-Chinneroth'?"

Lyall was nodding, "Yes. It's Ancient once again, I believe."

"Annata said that it means 'without a tail.' She said that the Prophet's skin is white and his blood is red, and that he is not Kelanni.

Lyall frowned in consternation. "But if he is not Kelanni, then what is he?"

Chapter 12

Shann had had just about as much as she could stand.

She had left the farmhouse near Lind with a clear mind and a strong purpose. They were going to free the tributes and break the power of the Prophet to oppress the Kelanni people. Now, an arrogant woman, a Keltar with a story that beggared belief, had dropped in out of the sky and somehow hijacked their mission. How could Lyall and Alondo simply go along with it? Could they not see what she was?

It had started from the moment they roused themselves to begin the night's journey across the desert, away from the fortress of Gort and the tributes she had pledged herself to free. Keris had gathered them all together as if she were somehow now in charge. Shann felt dismay as she watched Lyall meekly fall into line. Someone had to put a stop to this.

Keris had unfurled a large scroll of paper on the sand. "I took this from Ferenek's office. It is called a map," she explained. Shann was intrigued, in spite of herself. It was like being a perridon, looking down on the ground from high up, only it showed far more than a perridon could ever see. There was Chalimar and Corte, Lind and the road south through the Southern Desert to Gort.

"All right, we are here." Keris' index finger pointed to a point north-east of the fortress. If we make reasonable time, we should pass beyond the edge of the desert in less than two days. Beyond the desert lie the Eastern Plains. There are few settlements. The Kelanni who live there are...different. They are mostly hunters, nomadic. And some of them are little more than rogues. If we should meet any, watch out for yourselves." She looked at them one at a time, before returning her attention to the map.

"I believe our destination lies here." She indicated a point on the south-eastern edge of the plains. There was a representation of a tower on the map, but there was no name next to it. "I calculate that we should be able to make the journey in about twenty days. We will need to exchange your morgren for graylesh. There is a trading post there, near the edge of the desert."

"What about Boxx?" Alondo asked. "I don't think it could ride one of those."

"You have a point," she acknowledged. "I suggest that we attempt to procure a wagon for supplies, and for Boxx to ride in.

"I did manage to acquire some other items at Gort that we might find useful in a pinch." Keris got up, went to her saddle pack and returned with two boxes, one a lot smaller than the other. She opened the larger container first. Set in ten velour recesses were ten silver globes. Shann had glimpsed such a globe only once before, during Lyall's battle with the Keltar in Corte, but she recognised them instantly–lodestone grenades. Keris handed five of them to Lyall and put the remaining five in her own pouch. "Use them only in an emergency," she counselled. "I do not think it likely that we will be able to get replacements any time soon."

Shann's brow knotted. "What about me; don't I get any?"

Keris' expression was one of strained patience. "Have you ever used one of these, child?"

Shann felt her hackles rise. No-one had called her "child" since she was little. It was demeaning. Her eyes blazed at the older woman. She forced herself to answer. "No."

"Then you are more likely to blow a hand or an arm off–or somebody else's. Just...try and stay out of the way."

Shann looked at Lyall for support, but his head was down, stowing the grenades in his pouch. She felt alone, isolated, powerless. She lapsed into a morose silence.

Keris selected the smaller receptacle and opened it. Within it were two Rings; bronze in colour, each set with a stone, the colour of midnight. "These are Speaking Rings," she explained. "When you speak into them, they can reproduce your voice at great distances. However, they need to be Linked with each other, so that they resonate. One Ring can only be used to communicate with one other Ring to which it has been Linked. And the Link cannot be undone; it is permanent. I could only find the one pair, so we need to use them wisely." She snapped the container shut and placed it in her pouch. Making sure that you keep control, Shann brooded.

Keris stood up and began making preparations to leave. Lyall and Alondo meekly followed her cue as if she was a queen and they were a part of her retinue. The two men packed away the awnings and then began coaxing the morgren forward. Boxx fell in behind the two beasts of burden. Keris addressed Lyall and Alondo directly, ignoring Shann as if she were beneath contempt.

"Follow the road east," she commanded. "I will head back and check for signs of pursuit and then catch up with you."

"Be safe." Alondo called out.

Sure, don't fall down any holes or anything.

Keris adjusted her cloak and trotted back the way they had come. In a few moments, she flared her cloak and leapt into the ferruginous twilight.

Shann waited until she was sure the Keltar had gone. Then she caught up to the other two. They were side by side leading the animals and engaged in quiet conversation. Whatever it was they were discussing, Shann didn't care to know. There was an issue that was far more pressing.

"Lyall," she interrupted him in mid-sentence. "What are we doing?"

He turned from Alondo to her. "Excuse me?"

"What are we doing?" She repeated.

"How do you mean?"

"That woman is a Keltar, and we are taking her orders."

"We have to know if the Prophet's men are tracking us, Shann."

"That's not what I mean. Ever since she arrived, you two do exactly what she says, and it's like I don't exist."

Lyall brought his animal to a stop and turned to look at her directly. She saw the same clear blue eyes; the same unruly fair hair and felt oddly reassured. "Shann, I brought you into our group because I believed you were courageous and sincere. Since that time you have demonstrated integrity and resourcefulness far beyond anything I might have expected. I regard you as a full member and an equal partner in this enterprise, and I value your opinion. If you have something to say, then I would gladly hear it."

Shann felt her confidence growing. "All right then. Why are we following the orders of a Keltar?"

"I am not following her orders. And she is not a Keltar; not anymore."

"Yes she is. Keltar are the sworn servants of the Prophet. They don't change."

"I did," Lyall observed.

"You were never actually a Keltar–you told me as much. Look at what has happened so far. We came to Gort to rescue the tributes and to cut off the Prophet's supply of lodestones. Now we are headed in the opposite direction. She has already succeeded in diverting us from our purpose. She will destroy us the first chance she gets."

"I don't think so, Shann. If she had wanted to destroy us, she could have done so very easily by simply doing nothing. When Alondo and I entered the compound, we had no idea that a trap had been set for us. She saved our lives."

He glanced at Alondo. Alondo looked down at his feet; then raised his eyes to meet Shann's. He had become accustomed to siding with Shann against Lyall during their banter on the journey to Gort. It was a source of humour and it had helped to cement them together as a group. Now he looked most uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Shann, I have to agree with Lyall. We would be lying dead in that guardhouse if it wasn't for her."

"How do you know she isn't manipulating you somehow?" Shann pressed on. "And what about that crazy story of hers about being spoken to by someone from the past? You're not telling me you believe all of that."

"I don't know, Shann," Lyall mused. "I think that if I had to make up a story to deceive someone, I could come up with a hundred better ones than that one. The fact that it is so fantastic makes it more believable, in a way. And there are other things. That machine, for example.

"I don't know much about machines, but Alondo does. He's a virtual genius when it comes to mechanics. If he says it is something unique, then I believe him. Finally, there's the presence of the Chandara."

"It might be lying." Shann protested. "She could have influenced it somehow."

Lyall looked at her askance. "Shann, I don't think you really believe that."

She felt as if the sands were shifting beneath her. "...All right, I don't. But that doesn't mean what it says is right, either."

Lyall glanced over at Boxx. It was lying with its head resting on the sand, as if patiently waiting for the debate concerning it to end. "Chandara are odd creatures," he began, "but I have never heard of one of them leaving their forest, let alone attaching themselves to a Kelanni. People say that they are primitive and dull-witted but I believe that they simply have thought patterns that are different than ours. One thing I am fairly convinced of ,though, after a single conversation with one of them, is that there is no way you could persuade it to lie for you, or even get it to do something it did not want to do.

There was a silence as Lyall's words sunk in. Finally, it was broken by Lyall himself. "If the warning from the past is genuine, then we cannot ignore it. If it is some sort of deception, then that fact will become clear over time. I suggest that for the moment we should remain watchful. Are we all agreed?"

Alondo and Shann both nodded. Lyall put a hand on each of their shoulders, in silent symbol of unity. After a moment of reflection, he released them, and they resumed their journey in contemplative silence. Shann felt calmer. She felt as if she had the old Lyall back, the man she had come to trust. And the bond the three of them had forged together had been reaffirmed and strengthened. Yet despite all of Lyall's good and fine arguments, there was still something about the Keltar she did not trust.

I will be watching you.

~

"As soon as we are judged to be safe, I would like to conduct hariath-sharana."

Keris looked at Lyall in disbelief. "Who for?"

"For those that died at the compound."

"You're joking," she accused.

"Not at all."

Keris was tall, but the sandy haired man still had half a head on her. He was dressed in a light loose fitting desert coverall. Keris still wore her cloak, dark tunic and dark breeches, the garb of a Keltar.

She had alighted on the road surface behind the party and announced that there was no evidence of their being trailed. Even as she delivered the news, she sensed that there was a different air about the three of them. The young girl was still quiet, but her air of open hostility seemed to have dissipated. The musician with the odd hat seemed to have a twinkle in his eye and the tall man seemed to have grown in stature. But it was more than that. They seemed to share an unspoken unity which expressed itself in the form of half glances and surreptitious gestures, as if they were part of a cabal from which she was excluded.

They were an odd group, to be sure. The fair man seemed to have had some training as Keltar. That at least made him partially useful. However, the other two appeared to serve no purpose whatsoever, so why he had selected them as confederates was a genuine mystery. The girl had been a kitchen hand before she had embroiled herself in this business. She was probably quite handy with a bread knife, but Keris didn't give much for her chances if the Prophet's men caught up to them. She had managed to escape from the compound all on her own, in spite of the increased security, which suggested that she might be more resourceful than she looked. Keris hoped so.

As for the musician–well she could only hope that he would have the sense to run and hide when the time came.

An odd group indeed. A view that seemed only confirmed, when Lyall suddenly suggested the memorial gathering.

"Did you know any of the people in the guardhouse?" She enquired.

"No."

"Then why–?"

"Because we are Kelanni, and those who died were Kelanni." He paused. "We must not forget who and what we are. If we do, then the Prophet will have destroyed us without the need for a device."

"Are you going to do this every time?"

"How do you mean?"

"Every time someone dies in this conflict. Are you going to conduct hariath-sharana for them all?"

"I do not intend for anyone else to die."

Keris was flummoxed for a moment. The man seemed to have lost his grip on reality. "Look," she began. "This is war. There are probably going to be a lot more deaths before we are finished."

Lyall had a look of quiet determination. "I am not at war with my own people. There is only one person who is responsible for all of this. If we stop him, then the oppression will end."

Keris laughed without mirth. "You're really not very good at this, are you? Being a revolutionary."

Lyall looked as if he were remembering an event long past. He gave a thin smile. "Perhaps not. But the greatest battle we have to fight is for hearts and minds, Keris. That is a battle we dare not lose."

~

Lyall, Alondo and Shann stood with hands linked in a circle, while Keris watched from a distance. She could hear them speaking the memorial in low tones. Boxx stood next to her on its haunches. It seemed intensely interested in the strange ceremony.

It turned its round head to look up at her. "What Is The Purpose?"

Keris' gaze was fixed on the three. "They are remembering those who died at the compound."

"They Are Healing."

"In a way...I suppose."

"You Are Kelanni." Keris did not turn or answer. Boxx persisted. "You Are Kelanni. Those Are Kelanni. Kelanni Should Join. Help One Another. It Is The Key."

"You don't understand," she murmured, still looking straight ahead. "I can't."

"Why?" it asked.

Keris was feeling an unsettling mix of emotions: sadness, worry, guilt most of all. The last thing she felt like doing was having a conversation with the enigmatic creature. She could see out of the corner of her eye that it was looking at her expectantly.

Broken limbs...contorted faces...the stain of white blood. "I killed them," she confessed. "The people they are mourning; I am responsible for their deaths."

Boxx rocked itself from side to side, although she had no idea what that meant. Finally it spoke. "Keris Did This To Save Those?"

"I suppose so." Her eyes were starting to water involuntarily. She wiped them with her palm, angry at her own weakness.

"Saving Those Has Injured You," Boxx piped shrilly. "So... You Need To Heal Most Of All."

Keris tried to push the thought away, but it welled up, forcing thorough the defensive barriers she had carefully constructed. The only person you can truly rely on is yourself. Suddenly, it was as if a dam had burst inside her. She felt herself walking forward. As she reached the others, Lyall and Alondo opened up to admit her and she joined the circle, taking each of their hands. Shann gave her an odd look, but said nothing.

As the four of them stood in silent meditation, a lone pink flower bloomed in the sandy soil nearby. It was a sentinel, announcing that they were nearing the end of the Southern Desert and approaching the Eastern Plains at long last, passing over from death to life.
Chapter 13

"Look there!" Shann pointed across the swathes of golden grass to a place where taller, purple reeds grew. A pair of dagan stood near the edge of the reeds, their long limbs and sleek bodies a symbol of grace and power. Lyall watched them for a moment; then he saw what she saw. Something sparkling in the bright sunlight. Water.

Shann kicked her heels and began running to where the pond glistened, cool and inviting. Come on!" She called over her shoulder. In a moment, Alondo began running after her, followed by Lyall. Alondo was whooping and hollering. The dagan turned tail and fled, bounding through the waving prairie in great leaps. There was a double splash as Shann and Alondo reached the water together. They had taken the time only to pull their boots off. Lyall followed suit, jumping and cannon-balling so as to swamp the other two. Shann screamed in annoyance and delight.

Children. Keris was standing beside the morgren. She still wore the dark tunic and trousers of a Keltar, although her flying cloak was safely stowed away in a saddle pack. She watched the others laughing and splashing and felt a tinge of jealousy. The water did look inviting. Still, someone had to stand watch. She settled down cross-legged in the long grass, pulled out a flask of water and took a long draught. She shook her head, and her long dark hair settled about her shoulders. Boxx waddled up and lay down next to her in silence. When they had left the Great Tree together, she had regarded the creature's presence as an annoyance. Over the days that followed however, she had become accustomed to its strange ways. She even found its presence oddly comforting.

She looked up at the wide open sky. Out here on the plains, the light was clearer somehow. Colours seemed that much more vibrant. Night was a chiaroscuro of dark reds, dominated by Ail-Mazzoth's brooding presence. Dawn brought Ail-Gan's bright yellow orb, washing out the reds and painting the clouds orange and the sky azure blue. Soon, Ail-Kar, the white sun, would flash across the horizon, bringing everything into renewed focus. It was as if the plains themselves were alive.

She looked down at a large blue flower near her boot. Her fingers reached out and brushed against the petals. She watched as the flower unfurled its petals slowly and a horde of tiny yellow insects scuttled out and dispersed across the ground. The flower gradually closed up once again.

She raised her head and her eyes took in the vista before her. Across the golden prairie, she could see a large herd on the move–dagan or raleketh, or maybe even wild graylesh; it was hard to tell from this distance. There was game aplenty here; whatever else, they would not starve. Travelling through the desert had meant short rations; not because there was any shortage in the food they were carrying, but because food increased thirst. Now there was no need for such restrictions. Keris' mouth salivated at the thought of fresh raleketh steaks with moba root. She would have to speak to Lyall about getting their group together to do a little hunting.

Aside from the fact that they needed the energy, it would also be an excellent way for them to hone their skills for whatever lay ahead. Lyall had told her that he had been training Shann, and that she showed exceptional aptitude in both the cloak and the staff. He seemed in earnest, but Keris was sceptical. It took many months of instruction and practice to become proficient in Keltar arts.

It was apparent that the girl did not like her. However, that was to be expected. She recalled the fair-haired girl in the cart on the road from Chalimar. Keltar had a reputation for enforcing the will of the Prophet, which was increasingly being accompanied by brutality. Keris was no longer Keltar. However, some were not going to be appeased with a mere loaf of flatbread.

Still, the girl did not have to like her in order for them to work together. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

Keris looked back at the pond, debating whether she ought to walk over and demand that someone relieve her so that she could take a turn to bathe. A movement in the reeds to the left of the pond. Then another on the far side. Dagan? No, there was a glimpse of shirt. A russet coloured hat. Keris got slowly to her feet, reaching up to the morgren's flank. Her fingers closed around her staff, feeling the smoothness of the wood. Another faint rustle, again from the other side of the pool. Three of them, then.

She moved away from the morgren, crouching low. Boxx remained there quietly in the grass. Perhaps it had read the situation; she could not tell. In any event, it did not speak or try to follow. Circling around behind the figure to the left, she could see his back clearly now at the edge of the reeds. He had a dark coat and wavy hair. She stole up and brought the side of her staff down smartly on the back of his head. He made an oomph sound, and then fell forward, face first. He did not move.

Keris crept around the pond, to where she had noted the position of the other two. She could hear the trickle of conversation from those in the pond. Then she spotted the remaining two intruders. She still had the advantage of surprise, but they were too close together to be taken separately. Nothing for it, then. They were both squatted down near the edge of the water. She readied herself, and then charged the one on her left, impacting the woman's back. Her victim lurched forward, falling headlong into the pond. There was an almighty splash, followed by a scream from Shann. Before the man with the hat could react, Keris was behind him, her staff constricting his throat.

He held up a hand. "Hold, friend."

Keris did not loosen her grip. "What is your business here?"

"We are travellers, friend...a hunting party," he rasped.

"You seek strange game today...friend." Her last word had a menacing edge to it.

Lyall had hauled himself up onto the bank near them. His hair was matted to his head and he was dripping. He saw Keris with the overweight intruder in a vise-like hold. "What is going on?"

"We have visitors. I did not catch your name?" Keris jerked the staff against the man's neck, as a way of exacting a response.

"Keris, let him go."

"Excuse me?" She did not take her eyes off her captive.

"Let him go, please," Lyall requested. Keris loosened her grip reluctantly and stood back. The portly man began rubbing his neck. Lyall continued, his voice even. "My companion asked you your name."

"Zamir." His voice was still hoarse.

The woman who had been knocked into the water was climbing out. She tried to squeeze some of the water out of her clothes. Alondo was already on the bank, offering a helping hand to Shann.

"What were you doing?" Lyall asked.

"We are hunting fresh game." It was the soaked woman who answered. "We were curious, that's all. We heard a noise."

"Forgive us, friend," Zamir appeared to have regained his composure somewhat, "but there are all manner of folks on the plains. Your morgren testify that you have come out of the desert, from the direction of Gort. There are many a tale of the things that go on in that terrible place."

"She is Keltar," the wet woman declared. "I recognise her clothing. And she wields the staff. She is a servant of the Prophet."

"She used to be," Lyall affirmed, "but no longer. She has turned her back on the Prophet and his ways. And she saved our lives." The woman from the pond was regarding Keris as if she were a foul spectre. "It is the truth, I swear it," Lyall added.

Zamir regarded Keris warily; then looked back at Lyall. "Where are you headed?"

"East, across the plains." Lyall had a story rehearsed. "I hear there are communities there where the Prophet's arm does not reach."

Zamir nodded thoughtfully. Just then, Boxx waddled up, taking its accustomed place next to Keris. "What is that?" Zamir inquired.

"That," replied Shann, "is Boxx.

The round faced man screwed up his nose. "It looks like a Chandara."

"It is," Lyall confirmed.

"It's an odd kind of a pet," Zamir observed.

Lyall bit his lower lip. "It...isn't exactly a pet."

Zamir shook his head. "Well, no matter. You have a long journey ahead of you, friend. And those morgren are far too slow. You will need to exchange them."

"We know," Lyall confirmed. "We were intending to visit the trading post, which I believe is a little way north of here.

Zamir put his hands on his thick hips, threw back his head and roared with laughter. "A fine idea, fine indeed. If you want to get skinned and hung out to dry, that is."

Shann frowned. "Are you saying the owner is dishonest?"

Zamir's laugh was disconcerting. "Of course he is. That's why he's such a good friend of mine." He registered the looks on their faces and laughed again. "Balbor can smell innocent gundir like you from the other side of the plains. But fear not, I have a herd of graylesh, newly broken. I am sure we can arrive at a fair price. You have coin, friend?" His face registered a momentary flash of concern.

"We do," Lyall assured.

Zamir beamed. "Then you shall visit my camp and we will deal. After which we will celebrate with a feast."

"We will need a wagon," Shann put in.

"I am sure we can fix something up for you... for a small premium." The chubby man walked over to Lyall and reached up to place a hand on Lyall's shoulder, leading him away from the pond. "A fine thing for you, friend that you ran across us this day, fine indeed."

~

Shann crouched down low in the long grass and waited, away to her right was Lyall, beyond him, Keris. All three wore the dark cloak. Shann's senses were heightened by anticipation. She felt the tension in her muscles and the touch of the staff at her side; smelt the rich loam and the scent of growing things; tasted the dryness in her mouth and the salt on her lips; saw the waving stalks and the dark shapes of her waiting companions; heard...a low, distant drumming against the ground.

They were coming.

A moment later she heard the shouts of the riders. She kept her eye on Lyall, waiting for the signal. The drumming sound became louder...louder. Lyall raised a hand. All three cloaked figures rose up together like black sailed ships amid a sea of gold. They ran forward as one, leaped skywards, and then bore down on the advancing herd of raleketh. The animals were gangly, ranging from yellow to red-brown in colour, with dark mottling. They made a half grunting, half squealing sound as they ran. Beaters rode behind the herd on graylesh, urging them forward. The lead animals saw the dark shapes falling toward them and turned back in a panic, only to be pushed forward by the oncoming surge. Shann landed lightly at the edge of the herd, together with Lyall and Keris.

"Careful," Keris called out to her, "don't get trapped in the stampede."

Shann ignored her. I'm not a child.

Diamond blades flashed as the three of them set about dispatching the quota needed for food supplies. The beaters parted their mounts so as to allow the bulk of the herd to escape. They thundered off, leaving behind their slain companions as a silent offering.

The two groups had been travelling together for seven days now, as their routes coincided. They had been following the course of a river upstream. Soon, however, the river would be flowing from the north. The plains nomads would follow it, accompanying the herds in their summer migration. Tonight would be the last night they would camp together.

Zamir rode up to them, pulling on the graylesh to bring it to a halt. Despite his portly frame, he seemed surprisingly agile as a rider. "Well done, everyone. Our teams work well together. Are you sure you wouldn't consider a more permanent partnership?"

Lyall planted his staff and met the other man's eyes. "I'm sorry; we must get as far away as we can from the Prophet's men. We must continue heading east."

Zamir nodded. "I understand. Very well then, tonight we celebrate. And tomorrow, we part as friends." Three more nomads arrived with a cart, and Zamir supervised the loading of the fresh meat. As far as Shann could see, the nomads seemed to spend most of their time celebrating. Zamir would seize any excuse to hold a feast. She had never been to so many parties in her life. A part of her secretly wished that she could just stay with them, and enjoy their carefree lifestyle. But at night she still lay awake, haunted by thoughts of Gallar, her home and the tributes at Gort. It felt like a great weight, as if everyone were dependent on her. I have to keep moving forward.

She turned to follow the others back to the nomads' camp, and her last few hours of freedom.

~

By the time Shann arrived back at the camp with Lyall and Keris, it felt as if the celebrations were already in full swing. There was an air of excitement and preparation and good humour. Children ran around in circles yelping at one another, while gundir snapped at their heels playfully. From the direction of the covered wagons came the wonderful smells of cooking.

The wagon which sat at the rear of the caravan had been purchased by Lyall, along with four graylesh, freshly outfitted for travel. Shann walked over to one of the animals and stroked its striped flank. It turned towards her. Bright eyes regarded her from either side of a slender snout. They were indeed graceful and intelligent creatures.

Lyall had sat down and struck the deal with Zamir that first evening, during an animated conference in Zamir's wagon. Shann had not been invited, and Alondo declined to sit in. "Money–that's Lyall's department," he maintained, with a smile. Keris had not been invited either, but she insisted on attending, nevertheless.

Later, as she was by the fire, chatting with one of the nomad hunters, Shann spotted Lyall and Keris exit the wagon and cross to the rear of another wagon farther down the line. She could discern raised voices, and a sharp exchange of words between the two. Excusing herself, she got up from her position by the fire and walked over to their position. As she got near, the vocal sounds coalesced into words.

It was Keris' voice. "You never give any thought to the consequences of your actions, do you?"

"I don't understand why you're so upset," Lyall was trying to pacify her. "After all, it was only money the Prophet had exacted from poor and honest people."

"And that justifies theft?

"In this case, yes. That money was intended to be used to free the Kelanni from oppression. Now it is being used to save our entire race. And you are quibbling about a few silver astrias that the Prophet does not need and will never miss?"

"That is not true," Keris remonstrated. "It was missed. And people suffered as a result: houses ransacked, on the spot searches, random arrests and since I've been gone, who knows what else?"

Shann was not comfortable with eavesdropping. She walked around the wagon to where the two of them were. Lyall was saying, "I think if we were to ask them–" They both caught sight of Shann and the conversation came to an abrupt halt.

"Is everything all right?" Shann asked. Keris shot a glare at her and stalked off. Shann looked up at Lyall.

"She doesn't like the thought of being associated with a thief," Lyall's voice had a tinge of regret.

That woman seemed to be determined to do everything she could to criticize and undermine their efforts. Shann felt like going up to her and telling her to take her stupid machine and her stupid story about a message from the past, and go off on whatever stupid journey she wanted. What stopped her was Lyall. He clearly thought there was something to this wild tale, so she had no choice but to go along with it for now, until she could convince him otherwise. Shann patted the graylesh and cooed to it in a soothing voice. At that moment, Alondo walked up to her. "Are you going to come hear me play?"

She beamed at him. "I wouldn't miss it."

~

Alondo was fast acquiring a bevy of devoted fans among the nomad community. One fair-haired girl in particular always seemed to claim the seat directly opposite him when he played, smiling enigmatically. Shann couldn't help but notice that they had both been missing on certain occasions. Now Alondo was sitting on his customary stool away from the fire, tuning his custom-built sabada. The fair-haired girl was already sitting on the grass in front of him, legs tucked beneath her. A growing crowd of nomads were settling themselves in anticipation of what was to come. Boxx stood off to one side on its hind legs, eyeing the Kelanni with curiosity. Alondo was joined by three other nomad players, one with a smaller stringed instrument, one with pipes, and one with a set of percussive wood blocks. At a signal from Alondo, the music began. The assembled crowd applauded enthusiastically as Alondo broke into song.

"There was a merry, merry maid,

"Who danced o'er fair Kallar.

"She twisted through the Tragar hills,

"'cross vale near and far."

Some of the audience were tapping; others were getting to their feet and pulling up others, ready for dancing. Shann looked up to see Lyall standing in front of her, proffering a hand. She took it joyfully and rose up. He put a hand lightly around her waist, and they joined the nomads who were already laughing and moving to the rhythm.

"She skipped along from morn to eve,

"And on into the night.

"Twirling round and round she went,

"By Ail-Mazzoth's light.

"She spun her way towards Alvar,

"Beside its banks did hop.

"She capered as its waters grew;

"Her feet she could not stop.

"She tripped on down the western coast,

"Through the streets of Gan-Dathlie,

"Leaping now from wave to wave,

"Across the Borgoth Sea..."

Lyall was spinning Shann around. She was becoming breathless. "I never heard this song before. It's like a tour of Kelanni. How long does it go on for?"

"I'm not sure," Lyall shrugged. "Every time I hear it, he seems to have added more verses."

The song did indeed last a while, with partners joining and leaving as they willed. As the final chords were sounded, Shann thanked Lyall and excused herself so she could seek out a cup of narrian wine, the light refreshing liquor brewed by the nomads. Shann had developed a real taste for it. She had a theory that the wine was a principal reason for the nomad's perpetual good humour. It certainly seemed to have a comparable effect on her. She found a trestle on which a small barrel had been set up, and helped herself to a full cup. The light was starting to fade, making the bonfire a focal point of the celebration. She sipped her drink, looking round at the revellers and allowing the fresh sweet flavours to refresh and invigorate her. The music was already starting up again, and couples were forming. A nagging thought tugged at the back of her mind like a persistent gundir, threatening to shatter her growing bonhomie. She thrust it away, but it came back snapping at her, finally breaking through her consciousness. Keris. Where is she?

Shann heightened her perception as she scanned the gathering of nomads, trying to pick out the tall, dark-haired woman. She was nowhere to be seen. Leaving her cup on the table, she headed away from the circle of firelight, towards their newly acquired wagon at the rear of the train. She looked around it; then went to the back. Pulling aside the flap, she poked her head inside. She allowed her eyes to get accustomed to the dimness, and raked every corner with her eyes. Nothing.

She made her way back towards the fire where food and drink were being passed around and the party was once again in full swing. Lyall was chatting amiably to the rotund figure of Zamir and his partner, who was called Anka. Shann started towards them. Then from between two wagons, she saw a tall dark figure approaching the edge of the gathering. Keris glided forward and sat on the ground by herself, unnoticed by the others. Shann stopped in her tracks.

Her first instinct was to tell Lyall, and for them both to then go to the woman and confront her. However, Keris was far too clever for that. Shann was certain that she would be able to come up with a lying but perfectly plausible reason for her absence. Or she might deny it utterly, claiming it was nothing more than Shann's fevered imagination. In any case, leaving a festive occasion was not a crime. She was up to something; Shann was convinced of that, but her gut feeling was not evidence and would only sound to Lyall like unfounded suspicion or petulance. Worse than that, she would have tipped her hand to the Keltar, letting her know she was being watched. Shann needed more information–more evidence–before she could approach Lyall.

Watch and wait. You are crafty. But sooner or later you will make a mistake.

Shann started forward once more, towards the music and laughter, forsaking deceitful shadows for the unalloyed probity of the light.

Chapter 14

The covered wagon, flanked by three riders, swept across the Eastern Plains like a stone flung across a golden pond. Alondo drove the wagon, urging the graylesh on, so that the wagon's wheels bounced and spun over the rough track. Keris rode on one side; Shann and Lyall on the other. Shann was dressed in a loose fitting brown tunic and trousers that Lyall had procured for her at the nomad's camp. She had ditched the tribute's coverall, as well as her old set of clothes that she had had with her since Corte. It felt satisfying, like dispensing with two unwanted personas, the kitchen hand and the slave. She was glad to see the backs of them both.

Other than during her flight from Corte, Shann had never ridden a graylesh before. The tame graylesh that had borne her on her flight from Corte was a far cry from these skittish, unbroken creatures of the plains. Alondo, who seemed to have assumed responsibility for the animals' welfare, selected the one that seemed most placid and gave her a quick lesson. It had not taken her long to get the hang of it, and she found that she was able to keep pace with the others easily. She loved the feel of the wind caressing her hair, the steady loping rhythm of the animal's stride and the constantly changing landscape.

Slow moving herds of raleketh crossed their path, heading north on their seasonal migration, juveniles who had yet to develop spots trotting beside their speckled parents. Mylar birds wheeled far overhead, as if tracking their progress. She spotted other creatures she could not name. A flock of birds with iridescent wings of green and blue rose as one from a nearby lake, their flapping like a round of applause. Cute creatures with large ears and pointed snouts scampered away into the long grass. "Jarka," Lyall told her. "Good eating." He smiled at her look of disgust.

The sight of the helpless creatures brought back to her mind the tributes at Gort, and she felt a pang of guilt. We will be back for you all. That was what she had promised them. Now she was headed farther and farther away. But the truth was she could not free them on her own. She had to have Lyall and Alondo's help, which meant convincing them that this woman was a liar.

Keris pulled back to the wagon's rear and crossed to Lyall and Shann's side, catching up to Lyall's mount and riding alongside. "There is a stream off to the left. I suggest we stop and rest the graylesh for a while. According to the map, we will soon be at the fork where the trail splits. One way continues east, the other south-east. Taking the south-east route will bring us close by the tower."

"Very well... Alondo," Lyall called out, raising a hand.

"Yes?"

"We're taking a break."

Alondo pulled firmly on the reins. "Whoa." Slowly he brought the wagon to a halt. "My graylesh thanks you and my buttocks thank you." He rubbed them, as if to illustrate the point. "Couldn't someone put in proper roads? Or at least invent a cushioned buckboard?"

"If we run across a town or a trading post out here, I'll buy one for you." Lyall promised.

Alondo jumped down and bowed expansively. When he drew himself erect, there was a twinkle in his eye beneath his ever-present cap. "Why, thank you. That is why you are such a good leader. You always put the comfort of your troops first."

Keris pulled her mount away, wordlessly. Lyall swung himself down from the graylesh, and Shann followed suit. She patted its striped sides, talking to it gently as she had gotten into the habit of doing. Then she addressed Lyall. "How far are we across the plains?"

"Why don't you ask the one with the map?" he asked innocently. Without waiting for her reply he answered, "A little less than half way, I think. Why, are you getting aches and pains, too?"

She smiled at him. "Not me. I could ride the plains for the rest of my life." They led the sleek animals in the direction of the stream that Keris had indicated. They had only got a short way, when they heard Keris' voice behind them.

"It's gone."

They turned around. Keris was rifling through her saddle pack. She looked agitated. "What's the matter?" Lyall called after her.

"My pack with my cloak and the other lodestone devices; it's been taken."

Lyall was frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," she snapped back impatiently. "They were there this morning, just before we...the nomads. They stole them." Keris muttered a curse. "We have to turn back, now."

Boxx was standing next to Alondo, who was quietly watching the exchange. Without warning Alondo bent over and reached into the wagon, producing something with a flourish. "Is this it?"

Keris' eyes were wide and her nostrils flared. "What are you doing with my stuff?" She sounded dangerous.

"Well, I saw one of the nomads going to your pack and 'acquiring' some of your things, so I sort of 'acquired' them back... Oh, and you're quite welcome."

Keris walked up and took the pack he offered. "Thank you."

Lyall and Shann were both trying to suppress a giggle. "Actually, I do seem to remember someone saying we should watch ourselves with those people," Alondo recalled.

Keris grinned in spite of herself. Lyall and Shann turned and resumed their course to the stream, breaking out into paroxysms of laughter as they went. Keris shook her head. "You do know you're nothing but a great big child, don't you?"

"Guilty as charged," Alondo replied happily.

~

Saccath drew his arm back and struck Zamir with the back of his hand. The force of the blow snapped the caravan chief's head to the side. White blood and spittle flew from the side of his mouth, and the heavy man sagged to his knees. The dark-robed Keltar loomed over him like a presage of doom. Then he turned on his heel and strode over to where two more Keltar waited. A couple of soldiers moved in and picked Zamir up from under his arms, dragging him backwards. They deposited him in a heap beside one of the wagons, where Anka and three small children were cowering.

Saccath took a cloth from his pocket and wiped his hands with a look of distaste, as if he were cleaning off excrement. The other two Keltar watched as he performed the small ceremony. One was young and thin, with straight fair hair, tied back. His mouth was angled wickedly and his eyes were set too close together. The other was shorter than both of them, slightly stooped, face hidden by a hood. "Well?" The hooded figure inquired.

Saccath tossed the cloth away. "The chief admits to aiding and abetting the fugitives who attacked the compound at Gort. He sold them fresh animals and supplies. He claims he didn't know who they were, and that he wouldn't have traded with them if he had known. Personally, I think his kind would do anything to line their pockets."

"Are you certain it was them?" the one with the hood probed.

"There can be no doubt of it," Saccath affirmed. "Two men and two women: the impostor and the girl who was his accomplice in Corte, the woman Keris and another man whose description I did not recognise; a musician, of all things. The first three bore the cloak and wielded the staff of Keltar. They even hunted with these people as Keltar."

The thin young man's expression turned to disgust. "They must be stopped."

"Patience, Nikome," Saccath soothed. "What I want to know is why would a genuine Keltar join up with the likes of them?"

"That is not your concern." The mouth moved beneath the hood. "Did you learn which way they were headed?"

Saccath nodded once. "They parted company where the river Talar turns north. The fugitives continued due east from that point."

"How long ago?"

"Just this morning," Saccath reported. "It should be a simple matter to overtake them. Should we eliminate them or take them into custody?"

The hooded face remained half in gloom. "For now your orders are to track their progress but maintain a distance. Do not attempt to engage them."

Saccath's brow furrowed. "May I ask why?"

"It is the Prophet's orders." The stooped figure raised a hand slightly, as if to display the speaking Ring which encircled an index finger. The other two caught the significance of the gesture, and bowed their heads in deference.

The last rays of Ail-Gan were clinging desperately to the eastern horizon; soon the bright white point that was Ail-Kar would share its fate, leaving Ail-Mazzoth's dull red orb in sole possession of the sky.

The hooded Keltar turned from the caravan and walked away. Saccath called after the retreating form. "What shall we do with these?"

The dark outline stopped and half turned towards the other two, so that a face could be seen, a profile deep in shadow.

"Burn them!"

~

Lyall stood with Shann at his side, their eyes transfixed on the distant horizon.

"Keris," Lyall called over his shoulder. Shann felt a surge of irritation at the woman's inclusion, but said nothing. Keris came and stood on Lyall's other side.

Lyall pointed out across the golden veldt. "What do you make of that? A prairie fire?"

Keris shielded her eyes and looked intently at where Lyall was indicating. "I don't think so; the smoke rises thin and straight."

"A camp fire then?"

"I think so...it seems that we are being followed." Keris lowered her hand, turning to Lyall. "I will scout back and find out who it is."

"What if it is the Prophet's soldiers?"

"Then I will fight a rear-guard action if necessary."

Lyall was shaking his head. "Too risky. If it is the Prophet's men, then we have no idea how many there are. Even you have your limits, Keris."

"I can take care of myself," Keris assured him.

Lyall gave her a wry smile. "I have no doubt of that, but I was thinking we might set up a monitor instead."

Keris looked thoughtful. "You mean a Vision Sphere?"

"What's that?" Shann broke in.

"They are devices used by Keltar to spy on people." Lyall replied. Keris shot him a look. "...Among other things," he added.

Keris continued to stare at him. Then she seemed to relax. "Well, I only have one Linked pair with me. If we set up the transmit sphere along the trail then it seems unlikely we will be able to go back, so we will lose it. The other sphere will then be useless."

Lyall considered this. "We have to know who it is that is trailing us. I think it's worth it, don't you?"

Keris drew herself erect. "Very well, I shall make preparations." She turned and walked over to retrieve the necessary items from her pack.

Shann turned to Lyall, her face etched with concern. "What if it is the Prophet's men?"

Lyall's eyes were fixed once more on the distant plume of smoke. "Then we run."

~

Keris pulled the flap aside and shouted to Lyall and Shann, who were riding behind the wagon. "I have a contact."

Lyall ordered the wagon to halt. He and Shann tied up their mounts hurriedly and climbed into the back of the wagon, followed by Alondo. They joined Keris and Boxx, crowding around them in the cramped space. Keris sat cross-legged with the sphere suspended in the air before her. It shone with an inner glow, which illuminated the faces of those watching. Shann shifted closer. She could see an image, distorted by the convex surface of the sphere. A rough trail parted the waving yellow fronds on either side. Objects were moving in, growing larger. As the party watched, they resolved into the shapes of men on graylesh, soldiers in leather armour riding high in the saddle. At their head sat three figures in black. Keltar

Shann glanced at the others. Keris sat impassive, concentrating on the image. Lyall's face was grim. Alondo looked shocked. Boxx' mouth was quirked, although she had no idea what that signified or even if the creature knew what it was looking at.

The image shimmered slightly and showed the mounted soldiers approaching. Shann attempted to count them: four, eight, ten...about two dozen. One of the Keltar stopped and dismounted as the soldiers filed past. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled the staff from behind his back and walked up to the sphere. Shann could see the sharp eyes set in an angular face with a straight mouth and pointed chin. Sunlight glinted briefly on the diamond blade as it fell. The light died and the sphere went dark.

Shann felt numb as she watched Keris reach out and retrieve the sphere and then gather up the trio of lodestones that had supported it. It was Lyall who finally broke the silence. "Keris, do you know who that was?"

"Yes. His name is Saccath."

"What do you know about him?"

All eyes were on Keris, who was looking down at the now empty floor. "Only that if he catches up to us, he will show no mercy."

~

For the next few days, their routine was unchanging: run...snatch food... run...snatch sleep...run. They seemed to be maintaining their distance from their pursuers, although Shann was not sure how, since the riders following them should have been able to overtake their wagon eventually. She could not shake the feeling that Keris was involved somehow, and that they were being toyed with. However she did not feel that she could talk to Lyall about it, since all she had were her vague suspicions.

There had been a lengthy argument between Keris and Lyall over tactics, which Keris had ultimately won, as her logic was unassailable.

"We can't keep going and going," she insisted. "We have to rest ourselves and our animals some time. The same applies to them. That means we can only camp when we know they have camped. If I act as a rear-guard scout, I can ride forward and tell you when it's safe to stop for the night. Then we post a watch to guard against a surprise attack."

Lyall had reluctantly agreed to her plan, but with strict conditions. "First of all, you are not doing this alone. You and I will take turns. Second, under no circumstances are you to engage them. Is that understood?"

Keris had maintained that she was the better scout, which was probably true. She also argued that if she could eliminate the odd soldier or even one of the Keltar by isolating them from the main group, she would improve their chances, which was also probably true. Lyall, however, made it clear that he was not going to be swayed on either of these points and so Keris had finally acquiesced.

Each evening Keris or Lyall would catch up to the party and declare that it was safe to stop for the night. Then, early in the morning before Ail-Gan rose, they would be on the move again. The journey across the Eastern Plains, which had begun as an exhilarating ride, affording new experiences every day, had now become a desperate race for life.

Thus it was that the most astonishing new discovery remained unnoticed by Shann until their goal was nearly in sight.

~

"The sun–it's moved."

Shann was gazing up at the heavens with a puzzled look on her face.

Keris had just returned from her scouting exercise and pronounced it safe to camp. She ignored Shann's comment and carried on checking her equipment.

Lyall walked over and stood beside her. It was true. Ail-Mazzoth now took up a position in the sky part way off towards the western horizon. He pointed up at the dark crimson circle, smiling. "The sun hasn't moved, Shann; you have." Shann looked questioningly at him. "We are a long way from Corte," he continued. "Ail-Mazzoth doesn't change position," he made a fist to represent the sun, "but as we move around our world," his other hand moved beneath it as if to illustrate their progress, "then it appears to move in the sky."

Shann nodded. "I see." She was pensive for a moment. "What if I were to continue walking around the world in one direction? Would that mean that Ail-Mazzoth would disappear completely below the horizon?"

"Perhaps," Lyall replied, "but in order to do that, you would have to pass through the Great Barrier of Storms. No-one has ever managed that. So none can say for certain what might lie on the other side."

There was a pause as Shann absorbed the enormity of what Lyall was saying. Then another thought occurred to her. "If the woman Annata is right, then the tower will take us beyond the Great Barrier. We will be the first Kelanni to see what is there."

"Yes Shann, we will."

"Do you think that we will be able to live there, if Ail-Mazzoth is gone?"

Lyall placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I do not think that the woman from the past would go to all this trouble only to send us to our deaths. I'm sure it will be fine. Although," he looked as if he were considering something for the first time, "it might well be a very strange place."

A place where the mother sun did not exist; what could it possibly be like?

~

Shann hastily stuffed her blanket into the saddle pack and grasped the reins of her graylesh, waiting for the signal from Lyall for them to be off. The coolness of night would soon give way to the shimmering heat of a summer's day. She was starting to feel weary from exertion and lack of sleep. Nevertheless she was determined to keep going. I can't let Lyall and Alondo down.

Keris had her map spread out on the ground. She had a two-pronged instrument and appeared to be making computations that only she understood. Finally she folded the map neatly and stood up. "Less than two days to the tower," she announced.

Alondo was already seated on the buckboard. "And what do we do when we get there?"

"I'm not sure," Lyall confessed.

"Well we'd better decide quickly when we get there, before the Prophet's men fall on us." Alondo sounded grim.

Boxx was observing the exchange. He drew himself up on his hind legs in a vain attempt to gain the height of the Kelanni. He spoke in his sing-song voice. "The Woman From Before–She Will Guide You. Do Not Be In Fear."

Alondo twisted around so that he was facing the Chandara. "And do you have any idea when that will be?"

"Yes," the creature replied.

"Well...when?" Alondo prompted.

"At The Time Of Her Speaking."

Alondo put his head in his hands.

Lyall put up both his hands in a placating gesture. "It does not matter. If Annata's warning is genuine and," he cast his eye around the four of them, "I believe that it is, then all Kelanni is under threat. The men following us are nothing more than a distraction. We have to follow this thing through to the end."

All three Kelanni nodded their assent. Boxx dropped to all sixes and waddled over to the wagon. In moments, the wagon and its escort were underway once more.

Late that evening, just as Ail-Gan was beginning to dip below the horizon, they had their first sight of the tower.

Chapter 15

Shann woke to the smell of fresh earth and the susurration of the nocturnal life of the plains. She opened her eyes as slits, registering three sleeping forms; two lay beneath blankets, the third was a rolled up ball of segmented chitin. A fourth figure sat with her back to Shann, staff held ready, long dark hair about her shoulders. Keris.

Shann had the last watch after Keris. Tomorrow they would reach the tower and whatever destiny awaited them there. She felt like going back to sleep, but something, a nagging suspicion, kept her awake.

As she continued to watch, she saw Keris check the sleeping forms behind her and then rise to her feet. The tall woman walked silently to the edge of the camp and off through the grassland. What is she up to?

Shann shrugged off her blanket and set off in a low run in the direction she had seen Keris disappear. She slowed down when she reached the grass perimeter, casting her eye over the tops of the waving stalks. A dark shape receding off to her left. Shann followed at a discreet distance. After a while, the grass thinned. A mostly bare patch of ground rose to form a small knoll. Shann watched as Keris sat down on the knoll and then raised her hand to her mouth and spoke. A moment later, a dull green light luminesced. Her Speaker Ring.

Shann hunkered down in the tall grass and strained her ears to hear, but could not make out distinct words. She dared not approach any closer, for fear of being discovered. Her mind worked furiously. The woman had told them that Rings had to be Linked and that a Ring could only resonate with the Ring that it had been Linked to. The Ring she carried as Keltar had been for one purpose only–to communicate with her master at the keep in Chalimar. There was only one explanation. You are a spy. And I have caught you red-handed.

As Shann continued to observe Keris, she debated what to do now. She should tell Lyall. However, it would still be this woman's word against hers. There was also a danger that if she found out she had been discovered, she might bring the three Keltar and the soldiers down on them. Or the woman might try and kill her, Lyall and Alondo. Shann would have to be very careful how she played this.

The Chandara's involvement was still a real mystery. Keris must have duped it or influenced it or threatened it somehow. In any case, none of that was important now. She had her first real evidence of the woman's betrayal.

Feeling a sense of grim satisfaction, she backed up through the cover of the long grass and made her way back to camp.

~

By the time they were ready to break camp, Shann had decided what to do. She would take Lyall to one side and tell him in secret about the events of last night. Maybe they could even put together a way of trapping the Keltar as a way of exposing her. Then with her out of the way, the three of them could get back to the real task of rescuing the tributes from Gort. She could see the look on that woman's face when she realised she'd been outwitted by a mere child. Then Shann imagined the joy on the faces of Roanol and the others when she came back to free them.

The sight of Keris jolted her out of her reverie. The woman came around the wagon and headed straight for her. Had she found out somehow that she had been followed last night? Shann steeled herself.

Keris strode up and stood right in front of her. Shann found the tall woman's looming presence intimidating. "Give me your equipment."

"Wh–what?"

Keris held out her hand. "Give me your equipment," she repeated.

Shann scrabbled around, gathering up the broken shards of her courage. "No!"

Keris let out a massive sigh and closed her eyes. She opened them again and Shann flinched inwardly. "When was the last time you checked the condition of your cloak–or the staff, for that matter?"

"I...well, er..."

"I thought so. What do you think will happen when the Prophet's men catch up to us? These are not dumb raleketh. There are trained Keltar among them. If your cloak fails or your staff breaks, they will not hesitate to kill you. Now let me have your equipment." Shann felt numb as she went to her pack and meekly handed the items over.

As she did so, Keris' severe manner seemed to dissipate. She softened her tone. "I will let you have these back as soon as I can. Try not to worry. When the time comes, just remember your training. I will do my best to watch your back."

Shann watched her retreating form and felt a pang of guilt. Quickly, she shoved it aside, recalling the image of the woman speaking into her Ring, communing with her superior in Chalimar. She had to tell Lyall.

He was standing near the front of the wagon, talking to Alondo. Shann started towards him. She would have to get him alone. He would no doubt be sceptical at first, but he would know what to do. She was just a few steps away when Boxx suddenly appeared ahead of her. It was carrying the strange machine in its upper forelimbs. It stopped and carefully set the device down in front of Lyall. Lyall and Alondo had stopped their conversation and were regarding the creature curiously. It straightened up and addressed them in its thin high voice.

"It Is Time."

~

Boxx touched a tiny switch set into a recess in the base of the device, and the line of lights came on, all glowing red. A light began to form in the air above the intricate mechanism–the image of a woman dressed in a kind of white coverall. Shann gasped in spite of herself. The woman turned to look behind her, and voice emanated from the machine.

"Is it working?...Keris...Keris, can you hear me?"

Keris, who was standing behind Shann's left shoulder, stepped forward. Bewildered, Shann moved to let her past. "Yes, I am here," Keris spoke in a strong, clear voice.

"Thank goodness. I'm sorry, but I do not have much time. Things are becoming chaotic here and power is erratic."

Lyall spoke up. "Pardon me, my name is Lyall. We did not know whether we would hear from you. The Chandara said that it would be more than a whole turn before your next contact."

"I see you have found friends willing to aid you. That is good. I am sorry for the confusion. I ought to have mentioned that the Chandara do not count in the same way that we do. Have you located one of the towers I spoke of?"

"I believe so," Keris declared. "We should arrive there later today. However, we are now being pursued by soldiers loyal to the Prophet. They are hard on our heels."

"Then you will need to make haste. I will tell you how to use the vacuum displacement transporter. Once you have transferred to the tower on the opposite side of the world, then you should be safe. Boxx?"

The creature lifted its head. "Yes?"

"Please, would you remove the access module?"

Boxx reached out with its front foreleg and found another small recess in the rear of the machine. There was a light hum, as a small panel slid out. Boxx reached inside with the three fingers of its front foreleg and extracted a flat object in the shape of a scalene triangle. It was made of a translucent substance. Encased within it were multi-coloured workings, the significance of which Shann could only guess at.

"The module Boxx will give you will enable you to travel between any of the four towers situated on our world. Enter the base of the tower and make your way to the top. You may notice that the tower has some...peculiar properties, but don't let that worry you. At the top you will find a large globe. Look around it and you will find a hole in the wall, the same size and shape as the module. Insert the module and wait a few moments. The module has its own internal power source and a door will appear. Retrieve the module again and enter the globe. Once inside, you will see a raised platform with four prominent levers. They correspond to the four towers of Kelanni; two on your side, coloured red, and two situated on the other side of the world, coloured blue. Pull the blue one on the left to the down position; then wait. You will know when the transport is complete. Then exit the globe. You will find yourself atop an identical looking tower, but you will be on the other side, not far from where the instrument that will neutralize the Prophet's weapon is concealed."

"Will this module give us access to the instrument as well?" Keris asked.

"No, the instrument is too dangerous for us to risk it falling into the wrong hands. For that you will need a different kind of key. Boxx is a crucial part of that. When you get to the other side, I will–"

The image fizzed and the light was extinguished. The red indicator lights at the base of the unit winked out. The four Kelanni stood speechless. Finally Alondo asked, "What happened?"

Keris frowned. "The message was shorter than last time. She said something about the power failing. I don't know..."

They were all thinking the same thing, but no-one wanted to vocalise it. Would they ever hear from her again?

Lyall stood erect. "Well, we have our instructions. Let's pack up everyone. We need to stay ahead of the Prophet's soldiers."

Boxx picked up the apparatus ceremoniously, and waddled off towards the wagon. Keris followed Shann to where the graylesh were grazing and when Shann turned, she saw that the woman was holding out her cloak and staff. "Here, you'll be needing these."

Shann accepted them. "Thank you." Her eyes met those of the Keltar. She did not know what to think. She had been so sure that the woman's story had been a pack of lies. All she had to do was to uncover enough evidence to convince Lyall of that, and all would be well. Now it looked as if Lyall's faith in her had been justified. She was certain that the sight they had just witnessed was beyond anything even a Keltar could manufacture. If the tower contained similar wonders, then the woman's credibility would be enhanced even further. Yet Shann knew that the woman did intend to betray them. She was secretly communicating with her overseer in Chalimar–Shann had seen it with her own eyes. What are you up to? She needed more information, more evidence of the woman's true intent, before she could confront her.

Far off on the eastern horizon the tower beckoned, eager now to reveal its innermost secrets.

~

The unnamed tower lifted itself up over the Eastern Plain, a definitive statement in stone. Keris, clad in full Keltar gear, inspected the entranceway at the tower's base; a sliding metal door left carelessly half open by its final occupants, as if in hopes that someone might one day take up residence there again.

It was an odd experience. The deserted tower was identical to the one that dominated the Dagmar manse, where Keris had spent her youth. As a little girl, she had been told not to play anywhere near there. This was a different tower, in a different part of the world. Yet it still felt as if going inside would be an act of disobedience to her parents, that she would be punished when they found out.

Boxx was standing on its hind legs, waiting patiently. Shann was just behind it, wearing the dark cloak, and holding the staff in both hands. Keris noticed that the girl's knuckles were white with tension. Alondo had brought his odd musical instrument with him, although Keris couldn't imagine why. She was going to make some acerbic comment, but then thought better of it. There were more important things to worry about.

Keris took point, checking the interior briefly and then moving inside. Motes danced in the sunlight which streamed through the opening. There were no windows; the space beyond was swathed in gloom. Keris allowed a moment for her eyes to grow accustomed to the reduced light and checked for signs of life; nothing, no movement nor any signs of recent occupation. She squatted down, tracing a finger in the undisturbed layer of dust. Finally, she drew herself up, signalling for the others to follow.

Boxx, Shann and Alondo entered the structure, casting their eyes about them.

"It Is A Vacuum Hole Tower. Tall, Like The Great Tree," Boxx stated in reverent tones.

"Cosy," Alondo observed.

Keris ignored both of them, moving beyond the pool of light. There was a rapid clicking sound. Keris whirled around to see Shann's hand on the wall. An instant later, light flooded forth from somewhere above her. There were rectangular glowing panels, the likes of which she had never seen before, set into the ceiling at regular intervals. A number of the panels remained dark.

"What did you do?" Keris demanded.

Shann stammered, "I...I just touched this thing on the wall here."

"Well, don't touch anything else," Keris warned.

Shann glared at her resentfully.

Off to one side, a set of stairs spiralled upwards. Keris headed towards it. There was a noise and movement from the direction of the entrance. Keris turned again to see the silhouette of a cloaked figure standing at the opening. The figure swept inside, and Lyall's features became visible in the dim artificial light. "They're coming," he announced. "One of the Keltar, and about half a dozen soldiers; they will be here shortly."

Why only one? The thought flashed up and Keris dismissed it immediately. No time to speculate now. "Well there seems to be no-one here. Let's get to the top." She turned and led the way up the spiral stairs.

The first flight led to a floor with various rooms and cubicles. Some doors were closed; others were carelessly left open as if the last residents had left in a hurry. The doors that were open afforded strange views of oddly shaped chairs and banks of instrumentation that reminded Keris of the mechanism that the woman from the past used, to communicate with them. She was starting up the second flight of stairs when she saw Alondo entering one of the chambers. She stopped and snapped at him, "What are you doing?"

Alondo was wide eyed like a little child. "Look at this stuff."

"Forget it. This isn't a sightseeing trip. The Prophet's men will be on us if we don't hurry. Now get a move on!"

Lyall came up behind him and put an arm around his shoulder. "Sorry, old friend. There's no time."

Alondo looked as if someone had just confiscated his favourite toy. He followed Lyall dejectedly. Keris resumed her passage up the stairs, holding her diamond tipped staff at the ready. She led them up a second set of spiral stairs and then a third. Part way up the fourth, Shann spoke up. "Lyall?"

"What is it?" he called from behind her.

"This tower, there's...something peculiar about it."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Just blip the bronze layer in your cloak once."

Lyall reached up to his neck control and did as he was bidden. He winced, "Curious."

"What's the matter?" Keris inquired behind her.

"Shann has detected a large source of what can only be refined lodestone." Lyall wore a puzzled expression. "Oddly though, it seems to lie above us."

Keris adjusted her control experimentally. "Curious indeed," she commented. "Let's get to the top, quickly." Keris increased the pace. Five floors...six...seven. Alondo was starting to pant.

You need to rest?" Lyall looked at him with concern.

"No, no...," Alondo puffed, "I'm fine." He added, "How many more floors to this thing?"

"Keris?" Lyall directed the question to her.

"I'm not sure; ten maybe?"

"Will you be all right?" Lyall asked.

"Of course," Alondo wheezed with his hands on his knees. "I can do ten...ten is good...eleven might be a problem, but ten...ten, I could do."

Lyall smiled. He put his friend's arm about his shoulders and started up once more.

The rest of the climb was conducted in silence, their entire concentration expended on the effort of putting one foot in front of another. Thus Keris was unprepared for the sudden feel of wind and the light from an open doorway which expelled them onto a stone platform, exposed to the elements. They were at the top. Dominating the centre of the platform was a huge silver globe, secured by clamps. They walked over to it and Keris put up her hand and touched its surface. It was perfectly smooth.

"It's changed," Shann was looking down at the grey stone. "The lodestone is beneath us now."

"It's this platform," Lyall confirmed. "The whole thing must be virtually all lodestone... Remarkable."

Keris was starting to walk around the massive orb. A quarter of the way round she stopped. "Over here."

The others joined her. Keris pointed to a triangular indentation in the otherwise flawless surface. "This has to be it," she declared. She stepped up and took out the access module she had stored in her pouch, inserting it carefully into the hole. The workings inside the transparent casing lit up with a yellow light, and a low humming sound emanated from the globe itself. The module turned red, and a door began to open on the globe's curved exterior...and stopped. The gap was no more than a hand's breadth.

Another sound intruded into the ensuing silence. Lyall ran to the entrance to the tower's roof. "I hear voices," he called out, "they're coming." He raced back and wrapped his hands around the gap in the door, pulling with all his might. Keris and Alondo both joined him. Strain showed on their faces and the tendons in their hands, but the door refused to budge. Then suddenly it was free. They pulled it open, and Lyall, Shann and Alondo scrambled inside. Shann reached out and pulled Boxx up and over the threshold. Keris grabbed the module and pulled it out of its slot. It went dark. Then she followed the others, ducking her head to enter.

She glanced around quickly, taking in the sphere's interior. There was light emanating from somewhere, but she could not discern its source. The concave walls were the same silver colour, but otherwise featureless. At the centre of the floor was a raised dais with four levers, two red and two blue, just as the woman from the past had described. The dais was encircled by a handrail. There was no other furniture.

Keris went to the controls. They looked simple enough. She looked up. Lyall was struggling to try and close the door, which had jammed again. "Leave it," she cried out, "there's no time." He pulled back and joined the rest. Keris placed both hands on the blue lever to her left. "Better hold onto something, I have no idea what will happen when I pull this."

The others grabbed the handrail. Boxx curled neatly up into a ball.

Keris shut her eyes, clenched her teeth and pulled down on the lever with all her might.

Chapter 16

As the lever reached the down position, Keris felt a low rumble, followed by a faint downward pressure. She opened her eyes. Released from its mountings, the sphere was now rising into the air above the tower, under the influence of the lodestone platform. Keris moved to the handrail next to Lyall and held on. It was a thrilling experience and she could feel her heart beating faster. She was filled with awe at a people who could have fashioned such wonders–her ancestors.

The sphere reached its maximum height. Through the jammed open door, she could see blue lightning playing about the exterior surface of the great globe. It was spectacular. A low whine started up and rose in pitch. A massive concussion. They were all hurled to one side. Keris and Lyall held on to the handrail, but Shann and Alondo lost their grip and tumbled over and over inside the globe. The ball that was Boxx rolled around but seemed otherwise unaffected. Another huge bang. A sense of falling. The impact of the sphere against the stone platform. Keris was bounced around and fell with the others in a disoriented heap.

Her head felt muzzy. She put her hand to her temple. It felt wet. White blood stained the tips of her fingers. She forced her mind to analyse what had happened. The Prophet's men had caught up to them. A petard. A larger version of the lodestone grenade. They had used petards to bring down the sphere somehow, maybe by destroying the mechanism that controlled it. It didn't matter. What mattered was that the sphere was not going to rise again, and with only one exit, it would soon become a trap if they did not move. She looked over to one side. The globe had rolled slightly on impact, so that the doorway was lower down, but still exposed to the open air.

The tall figure of Lyall was suddenly looming over her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes." She waved a hand. "Get out of here, go, go!" Her voice sounded muffled, as if she were trying to talk with blankets stuffed in her ears. She shook her head with annoyance. As she got her elbows under her and struggled to a sitting position, she saw the backs of two cloaked figures and one gaily clad musician clambering through the threshold one by one. A distant voice in the back of her mind suggested mildly that she would feel so much better if she simply lay back down and closed her eyes. She thrust the thought away savagely.

There were sounds coming from outside; coarse shouts, animalistic grunts, the clash of weapons. I must get out there. She went to get up and felt a warm tingling contact at the side of her face. She turned her head instinctively. The Chandara was sitting on its hind legs next to her, three fingers of one limb touching the sticky smear of blood at her temple. Its mouth rippled in a peculiar fashion, but no words came out. "Boxx, what are you doing?" Her voice still sounded odd in her ears.

"I Heal Keris," it announced. Then its mouth reverted to the same rippling motion.

"Sorry, no time for that now." She pulled away and got to her feet. Her legs swayed under her but she fought to regain control, forcing them to carry her towards the opening. Although it made no sense, she could still feel the Chandara's touch. It was as if the whole side of her face were alive.

Framed in the entrance to the sphere, she could see Lyall sparring with four soldiers in iron studded leather breastplates. He was using the superior reach of his staff to fend them off, whilst they circled, weapons drawn, trying to outflank him. He flared his cloak and leaped out of their midst, the soldiers giving chase.

Keris clambered out of the silver globe, and from the corner of her eye she spotted Alondo to her right, crouched down. Bizarrely, he seemed to be adjusting the settings on that musical instrument he carried. At least he seemed to have the good sense to stay out of the fighting.

Her mind was starting to clear, and her tactical sense kicked in. In an instant, she registered the relative positions of friend and foe alike, as if they were pieces on a shassatan board. Alondo would correspond to "The Fool," with no offensive role. Lyall was "The Wheel," around which the other pieces revolved. She would be "The Dagger," punishing each of the opponent's moves with a counter-move. "The Dagger," for the opposition would be the lone Keltar. She glanced around anxiously, but he did not seem to be within her field of vision.

She moved out onto the tower's roof. The sound of clashing staffs, above and behind her. She wheeled around to see the Keltar battling another cloaked figure in mid-air above the ruined globe. Shann. The tiny girl was twisting and turning, parrying and dodging a furious array of blows. As Keris registered the scene, she could not help but be impressed by the girl's tenacity. Wisely, she was not making it a contest of strength but was using her superior speed and agility to good effect. However, she was fighting a trained Keltar, and there was no way for her to avoid every blow. Already her arm bore what looked like a flesh wound. Sooner or later, a single vicious thrust or slash would fully connect, and she would go down.

Keris bent her legs, retracted the bronze layer of her cloak fully and shot into the air. The lodestone platform was a perfect base, affording almost infinite possibilities of movement in the air. However, the enemy had the same advantage. Overconfidence would be fatal. Twisting in the air, she altered her trajectory so as to land on the outer shell of the sphere near the top. She landed and pressed herself flat against the curved surface. Shann had landed on the platform and immediately taken off again in a different direction. Good girl. Don't let yourself get caught on the ground. The Keltar gave chase. He was trying to anticipate the girl's next move and trap her. He had not spotted Keris; she had the element of surprise. Just keep him occupied for a few moments more, girl.

Shann reached the apex of her leap. The Keltar was rising to meet her in the air, readying his staff once more to probe her defences, waiting for her to make a fatal error. His back was turned. Keris saw the opening. She flared her cloak and launched herself skyward. Reaching the top of her leap, she angled her body towards the Keltar, and slammed open her bronze layer. Instantly, she felt the downward pressure of the upper lodestone layer on bronze. She hurtled downwards, feet first. Air rushed past as the pair of cloaked combatants rose to meet her. Keris twisted at the last, feeling resistance, as her boots impacted the Keltar's side. She heard an "oomph" as air was forcibly expelled from the man's lungs. The massive blow sent him tumbling towards the platform out of control, and he landed hard. Keris partially retracted her bronze and slowed her descent, alighting directly in front of the sprawling figure. From the corner of her eye she could see that Shann had landed safely some way off. The girl was breathing hard, but watching the confrontation, intently.

The man turned his face towards Keris. He was young and wiry looking, with fair hair combed straight back. Keris had a flash of recognition. She had seen him at the keep, but could not remember ever speaking to him. He rose to his feet, clutching his side. "You–you are Keris, the traitor."

The word stung Keris in a way she had not expected. It felt like he had somehow turned the tables on her and gained the advantage. She scrambled to maintain her moral footing. "You do not understand what is going on here."

"I understand well enough," the man sneered. "You have sided with these impostors against the Prophet."

"The Prophet is out to destroy all Kelanni," she countered. "You are being used."

"Ridiculous!" the young man spat.

Keris was about to respond, when she felt a pressure wave pass over her. She whirled around just in time to see two soldiers come cart-wheeling through the air. They landed on the stone roof in a tumble of arms and legs.

She looked back along the line of their trajectory. Alondo stood with his boots firmly planted, the open neck of his musical instrument pointed forward. He turned to face two more soldiers who were advancing on him from the side. He adjusted a control and then struck the strings. Keris watched with disbelief as a shimmering ring rippled through the atmosphere and struck with a force that knocked them backwards. He tweaked the control once more, and commenced a rhythmic strumming. An aerial vortex emanated from the device, twisting in the air like a coiled serpent. The soldiers raised their hands in a vain attempt to resist the force now washing over them. Faces contorted, they turned tail and ran for the roof exit. The other soldiers got to their feet and stumbled after their companions. Lyall chased after them with his staff, completing the rout.

Keris was almost as shocked as the soldiers. She had never seen anything like the weapon that Alondo wielded. She gathered her wits, pointing the tip of her staff at the still prone Keltar. "Your men are defeated. Yield!"

"Never!" The young man got to his feet and rushed Keris. She sidestepped neatly, swinging her staff and striking him in the back with the darkwood. Shann was walking towards them. Keris held up her hand. "Leave him to me."

Dark clouds were rolling in, obscuring the suns and casting the tower in a premature evenfall. The cloaked youth turned again to face her. He laughed mirthlessly "Others are coming after you. You will not escape." He raised his hand to his neck and leapt away. Keris bent her knees, flared her cloak and jumped into the air after him. He twisted around to face her and she caught the look of pure hatred in his eyes as their staffs clashed.

As Keris parried a low strike, she heard Lyall shouting from below. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but she detected a note of urgency in his voice. Glancing to one side, she saw smoke billowing from the roof's exit. I have to end this.

She blipped her bronze layer, dropping below her adversary and then pushing off again, to try and come up behind him. If she could damage his cloak's mechanism and give herself a decisive advantage, then maybe he would be more inclined to reason. He appeared to read her intentions and swivelled in the air, holding out his staff in a defensive posture. Her staff met his with a crack that reverberated across the rooftop. Before he could respond, she shifted her grip and followed up with a succession of strikes. The Keltar was driven backwards and descended, landing on the platform with a slight stumble.

He backed up and as he did so, Keris could see that he was getting near the parapet. She touched down and advanced towards him. There was an acrid tinge of smoke in the air. "Don't be a fool," she cried out. "Come with us and let us explain what we have found."

She saw the side of his mouth quirk into a half smile. He feinted to her left and then shifted position, coming at her from the right. The diamond blade moved in a vicious arc, aimed at her head. Keris pulled back as the staff sliced through the air in front of her face. Swinging low with her own staff, she took the man's legs out from under him. The youth went down again, sprawling on the hard stone.

He rose to a crouch, opened his cloak and sprang upwards. A massive detonation. The ancient tower rocked and the platform beneath Keris' feet swayed slightly. The young Keltar instinctively shifted the direction of his flight away from the blast. Too late, the expression on his face registered his fatal mistake. He snapped open the bronze layer of his flying cloak in an effort to brake, but his forward momentum carried him out over the edge of the parapet.

Keris was running towards the youth across the stone roof . "Nooo!" She threw herself down at the parapet, hand outstretched, fingers extended into empty space in a futile attempt to grab him. The only lodestone this high up was the roof itself, which at the angle he was at, would only serve to push him further away. She could only watch in horror as he began to fall backwards, down the face of the tower, cloak fluttering uselessly in the wind. The image shrank rapidly, and in a moment was gone.

Keris sagged against the parapet in defeat. As she did so, the first large raindrops splashed against her head and against the stone. Lyall walked up to her as she lay there, with Alondo and Shann behind him and Boxx behind them, bobbing up and down like a child that was trying to get a better view.

Lyall looked down at her, his blue eyes seeming to acknowledge the depth of her pain and frustration. He extended a hand to help her up. "Let's get out of here."

~

The rain was falling in parallel streaks, pattering against the stone. Lyall stood at the roof exit, ripping up pieces of cloth and handing them around. He offered one to Boxx, but the Chandara only looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Soak these with rainwater and hold them over your mouth. Breathe through them." He looked at each of them in turn.. "As we descend, keep close to the outer wall and try to keep low to the ground. Stay close together and above all, whatever happens, don't panic."

He led the way back into the tower's interior, followed by Shann, Alondo and Boxx, with Keris bringing up the rear. The atmosphere inside the tower was heavy with smoke. Lyall was acutely aware that there might be another explosion at any moment, but there was nothing he could do about that. They had to escape the tower as quickly as possible, and this was the only way.

Smoke curled around them and the heat increased. Fire was taking hold in the upper part of the tower. The petards had done more than destroy the transporter mechanism; whether by accident or design, they now threatened to raze the tower itself. Patches of red and orange were visible through open doorways, and there was a rushing sound, as the flames greedily tried to suck in more oxygen.

He heard a loud coughing. It was Alondo. Motioning Shann to carry on the descent, he turned back to his friend. "Are you all right?" he shouted. There was another round of coughing, but Alondo nodded. Lyall put one arm around Alondo's shoulders, urging him on. He glanced back at Boxx and behind it, the outline of Keris. Both appeared to be coping. They descended through two more floors, and the smoke began to thin noticeably. Alondo signalled that he was able to continue unaided. Lyall released him and moved back to point, quickening the pace.

Lyall had no idea what had happened to the soldiers but right now, a possible ambush was the least of his worries. In any case, he seriously doubted whether they would want to face Alondo's vortex arm again. His weapon had that effect on people and animals alike.

He was proud of his team, Shann especially so. She had faced a trained Keltar and held him at bay long enough for Keris to deal with him. The girl's bravery was beyond question. The rest would just be a matter of training and practice. In a way, Keris concerned him more.

First the incident at the compound, and now this. It was as if, having turned on her former friends, she was now being forced to witness their destruction, one by one. It was clear that it was all taking a toll on her and that sooner or later there would be a price to pay for that. Lyall was not sure what he could do to help her, other than to be there for her, and to remind her from time to time of the importance of what they were trying to accomplish.

Regarding that, there was now the question of what they were going to do next. The device that was intended to transport them beyond the Great Barrier was destroyed, gone forever. Assuming they all made it out of here alive, then the others would be looking for an answer to that question. And they would be looking to him. Right now, he didn't have an answer for them, but he was determined that he would find one. Lyall glanced back and saw them following him as they descended through the ruined tower. I can't let them down.

They finally broke through to the ground floor and rushed out through the entrance, pausing to take great lungfuls of fresh air. The welcoming rain began to drench their clothes and their bodies, washing away the smell of stale smoke. Lyall scanned the area around the base of the tower. There was no sign of the soldiers or anyone else. Silently, he led the others in single file back towards the wagon and the waiting graylesh.

Behind them the tower burned, flames lighting up the darkening sky.

Chapter 17

The rain had eased to a gentle teasing drizzle. Three Kelanni and one Chandara sat around a small fire near the edge of the Eastern Plains. The Kelanni had blankets pulled over their heads in an effort to try and keep dry. The blankets steamed slightly in the heat of the campfire.

Despite their victory at the tower, the air smelled of defeat. Even Alondo appeared subdued. Earlier, he had broken out rations of dried raleketh meat and handed them around. Shann had done little more than pick at hers.

The injury on her arm no longer hurt, but her mind still seemed conscious of it somehow. Boxx had done something to the wound. At the time, she thought that the creature was just performing some peculiar ceremony and she did not have the inclination or the strength to object. In a few moments, an odd sensation suffused her arm, like hot needles, yet strangely, not unpleasant. Instinct told her she should pull away, but her body did not want to. After a while, she realised that the pain was gone. She probed the area of skin experimentally and to her great surprise, it appeared to be whole. The Chandara sat up on its hind legs, eyeing her curiously. She rubbed her arm. "Thank you." Satisfied, the odd little beast dropped to all sixes, waddled off and lay down, its head resting on the ground.

The conversation was subdued, mainly because none of them wanted to talk about the only subject on everyone's minds–what were they going to do now. Back across the open plains, smoke could still be seen rising from the tower, commingling with the dark clouds overhead, barring passage to the other side of their world. They had been guided there by Annata, the woman from the past, yet the device she had used to communicate with them was silent now and she herself was long dead, bones turned to dust and washed away by centuries of rain. They were on their own, burdened with the knowledge of impending disaster, yet powerless to prevent it.

A dark shape moved across the brooding sky and descended to the ground near the campfire. It moved into their midst, the lambent firelight casting its visage in flame and shadow. The face grinned. "Greetings, people." Keris looked up at Lyall, and then looked back at the fire. No-one spoke. "I have good news," he began. "There does not seem to be any sign of the Prophet's men. If the soldiers who confronted us at the tower have returned to their masters, then they have no doubt reported that we gave them a sound thrashing. I think it will make them think twice about attacking us again."

There was still no answer from anyone. Lyall carried on, "I'm very proud of you all. Everyone was magnificent today. You all did a terrific job." Keris made an odd snorting noise. Lyall looked at her with an inquiring expression. "Keris?"

"...A terrific job," she repeated. Lyall allowed her to marshal her thoughts. She continued staring into the depths of the fire as she spoke. "Well let's see...we... sustained injuries, failed to prevent the destruction of the tower, our only means of travel to the other side of the world and almost got ourselves killed in the process." She picked up a stick and threw it savagely into the fire as if to punctuate her final word. "Terrific."

Shann found herself reluctantly agreeing with Keris' assessment. She wondered what she might do now. Go back and try to free the tributes at Gort again, maybe? If she were killed in the attempt it would hardly matter, as they were all facing destruction anyway. Or she could simply go back to Corte, find Gallar if she was still alive and wait for the end. She found neither prospect very appealing.

Lyall did not seem at all flustered by Keris' outburst. "Did they teach you to give up so easily in Keltar School?" Keris looked away from the fire for the first time and stared at him. Lyall stood his ground. "Look, none of that matters...all right, it's a setback, to be sure. But we are alive and well. And the fundamentals have not changed. We know that the Prophet is out to destroy the Kelanni and we have to get to the other side of our world to stop him."

"How are we going to do that, Lyall?" Alondo asked in a quiet voice.

"We have to cross the Barrier."

"Do you know someone who knows a way through?" Keris challenged.

"As a matter of fact, I do." The rain had stopped, and the clouds were breaking up, allowing Ail-Mazzoth's massive orb to dominate the western sky. "Boxx, is the machine you are carrying still operational?"

The Chandara rose to its hind legs at the mention of its name. "Yes, Lyall."

"Do you know when Annata will appear next?"

"Yes, Lyall."

"Can she show us how to continue to the other side of this world?"

"You Must Continue. It Is The Key."

Lyall smiled. "Well, that's one vote in favour." He looked at the others one by one. "We know that Annata has machines and knowledge far beyond ours. We all glimpsed the wonders at the tower. Her people built a machine and sent it through time to warn us. In doing so, they have placed a great responsibility on Keris, and now on us, as well. I do not believe that they would give up and neither should we. If we work together, past and future, then I believe we will find a way.

"I say that nothing has changed. We have a task to complete, on which the very future of the Kelanni depends. Are you with me?" Shann was grateful that his eye fell on her first. She nodded firmly, followed by Alondo and finally after a long pause, Keris gave her assent. "Then it is decided. We continue."

"Where are we headed?" Alondo asked.

Lyall turned to Keris. "The map you acquired–how far does it extend?"

"All the way to the sea."

Lyall nodded. "Good. The Great Barrier of Storms lies across the Aronak Sea. I believe we should make for the port city of Sakara."

"That's a long way if we take the usual road," Keris observed.

"I'm aware of that."

"There may be a short cut," Keris suggested.

"You mean the Fire Pits of Kharthrun? Is that wise?"

"What are 'the Fire Pits'?" Shann cut in.

Lyall tried and failed to look non-committal. "They are...nothing to worry about for now."

~

Slowly, the Eastern Plains came to life, rising to meet the cold light of dawn. Two cloaked figures stood near the base of the tower, looking down at a crumpled heap on the ground. It was unmoving. Nikome.

A soldier in crimson surcoat over leather armour strode over and stood before them. He glanced down at the body before Saccath commanded his attention. "Report, Commander."

"The tower is clear, my Lord. No sign of the fugitives."

"What of the device that they were reported to be using?" Saccath demanded.

"Destroyed. The upper floors have been gutted by fire–the soldiers claim they were ordered by Lord Nikome to set petards to prevent the fugitive's escape."

"Then where are the fugitives now?"

"They...proved to be too strong for the men, my Lord. There were Keltar among them. The men also spoke of another man with a weapon, the likes of which they had never seen. They claim they could not stand before it."

"Fetch the men here. I will question them myself."

The Commander grasped the hilt of his weapon and gave a short bow. "At once, my Lord." He turned on his heel and swept away.

Saccath's face contorted. "Fools!"

The figure in the hood turned towards him, one eyebrow raised.

"They ran," Saccath spat, "left Nikome to face the rebels alone."

"Nikome disobeyed orders," the hood pointed out.

Saccath was determined to defend the young man, even in death. "He was trying to stop the rebels from escaping."

"Escaping where? They had trapped themselves at the top of a tower. Where were they going to go?" The face in the hood shook its head. "No. I know you liked the boy, but the evidence is clear. He was told to maintain distance and not engage the enemy. Yet he decided to go in on his own with four soldiers."

Saccath felt anger and frustration welling up within him "What were the rebels doing here?"

"We may never know," the hood's voice sounded distant. "I suspect that somehow, they discovered a rumour about an artefact at the tower and thought that they might use it to aid their cause. Thanks to Nikome, any indication of the true nature of that artefact was destroyed with the tower."

The hooded form sighed. "Well at least we have the satisfaction of knowing that whatever they were after was lost to them."

Saccath was still staring at the body. "We cannot allow this outrage to go unpunished. We have been snapping at these rebels' heels like gundir when we could have chased them down and eliminated them long ago. Now they have murdered a Keltar. They must pay." He faced the other squarely. "If you will not go after them, then give me the responsibility."

"No. The orders stand. The Prophet has his reasons. We will move against them, but only when I say and not before. Is that understood?"

Saccath bowed; his face a dark mask. "As you wish, Excellency."

"You are right about one thing," the hood mused. "The soldiers on the spot deserted their Keltar. We cannot allow that. An example must be set."

The Commander returned, bowing once more before the two cloaked figures. "I have the soldiers from the tower here. Do you wish to question them in private?"

The dark outline beneath the black hood thought for a moment. "No. Assemble the rest of the men, Commander."

"Right away, Excellency."

As the soldiers gathered, the four escapees from the tower were brought. They stood before the two Keltar, eyes filled with fear.

The hooded shape turned towards them, its face obscured. "What did you see at the tower?"

The four appeared to have deferred to one of their number, who served as spokesman, a tall man with short dark hair and craggy features. He blinked and his eyes moved rapidly as he spoke. "We saw a great globe rise into the air above the roof of the tower, surrounded by blue lightning. The rebels were inside. We were ordered to bring it down with petards."

"And when you brought it down, what then?"

"They came from the sphere and attacked us, Keltar. They used a weapon...I do not know what it was, but we could not stand before it."

"And so you retreated."

"Yes, Excellency."

"Abandoning your Keltar."

"I...we had no choice. We fought against it, but the weapon drove us back."

"So you wish that you could have stayed to defend your master?"

"Of course."

The voice from the shadowed cowl rose in volume so that all could hear. "Then you will have your wish. Captain, take these four men into custody." After a brief struggle, the four stood bound. "Take them to the roof of the tower. Let them join their Keltar."

A short while later the soldier band rode off into the distance, leaving behind the blackened tower and five broken forms at its base, abandoned like discarded marionettes.

~

Shann spun rapidly in the air, and brought down her darkwood staff with all her strength. She sliced through empty air. As she began to descend towards the ground, she cast about wildly. A breath on her cheek and a staff constricting her throat. How did she get behind me? They touched down together and Keris released the girl.

Shann felt annoyed at her adversary and frustrated with herself. Training with Lyall had been joyous and instructive. Training with this woman felt like a cross between drudgery and ritual humiliation. It was as if the Keltar enjoyed showing up her failings.

"Don't take your eye off your opponent," Keris warned. "Follow and anticipate his actions. He won't be intimidated by your trying to pull off a fancy move."

"I was not ...," she protested as Keris turned on her heel and walked away.

"We're done for today," Keris called from behind her back. Shann followed, scowling.

It had been Lyall's idea for her to begin training with Keris. "You can learn a lot from her," he had urged, "and it might help you to get to know each other a little better." Shann knew that that was code for 'getting on better.' The tension between the two of them had become increasingly obvious since the tower. This was Lyall's way of trying to smooth things over. If they were going to be a team, they would have to learn to work together. Of course, Lyall did not know what she knew. She had thought again about revealing the woman's secret communication to him. However, it would still be only be her word against the Keltar's. She had to have enough proof to convince him. However, the woman had obviously been careful since the night on the plains, when Shann had seen her speaking into her Ring, away from the camp. Shann had done her best to keep watch, but she had been unable to catch the woman out again.

The way back to camp led through a narrow cut in the hillside. It had been two days since they had left the plains and entered the line of hills that bordered its eastern edge. They were labelled on the map Keris carried as Gilah. The vegetation here was sparse, as was the animal life. A small creature with large round eyes and a long prehensile tail had approached their camp, sniffing with curiosity, but when Shann approached to try and make friends with it, it scooted off. She had kept her eye out for it since but hadn't seen it again.

She, Lyall and Keris had taken turns scouting for signs of pursuit. It was a surprise to her that Keris considered her competent enough to take a turn, but when Lyall had suggested that Shann be included, the woman had not objected. Maybe she was hoping that Shann would fall into the hands of the enemy and she would be rid of the girl. One thing was certain; if the woman were to learn that her treachery had been observed, then Shann would find herself lying with a Keltar's diamond blade in her back.

Shann followed Keris into the camp. The wagon had been parked just off the hillside track. The woman headed for the graylesh and her saddle pack. Shann spied Alondo seated next to the wagon, his back leaning against a wheel. She walked over, and he gave a broad smile as soon as he saw her. "Hello there, Shann." He gestured for her to sit down beside him and she gratefully accepted. "Training going well?"

She made a face at him. "She hates me. She does everything she can to make me look inferior."

Alondo laughed. "I doubt that. Our resident Keltar is a little...stern. But she does have a lot of skill and experience. Lyall is right; you can learn a lot from her. In spite of her demeanour, I'm sure she means well."

Shann would have loved nothing better than to have confided in Alondo right there and then; to tell him everything about the woman's secret communications with Chalimar. But she could not do it; she could not place him in that kind of danger. It was one thing to risk her own life in exposing the woman's duplicity, but if anything were to happen to him, she would never forgive herself.

She decided to gloss over the matter. "Maybe you're right. Hey, I don't have to like her to learn from her, right?" Alondo looked at her sceptically, but said nothing. Shann changed the subject. "Alondo?"

"Yes?"

"Do you miss Hedda?"

Alondo smiled painfully and looked down at his boots. "Every day. Only don't tell her I told you so." He reached inside his russet coloured jerkin and pulled something out, holding it in his hand. It sparkled green in the late afternoon sunlight, an emerald set in a silver chain. "This is hers. I keep it with me always."

Shann's face lit up. "It's beautiful."

Alondo shrugged. "Well, the stone is common enough, but it reminds me of home." He tucked the gem away again.

"Do you think we will return home one day?"

"Of course. Don't you?"

"Well it's just that I'm no longer sure I have a home. Poltann is dead and Gallar–well I don't know. If anything has happened to her, then I'm alone."

Alondo put an arm around the girl's shoulders. "You are not alone, Shann." They sat silently for a moment, Shann enjoying the unaccustomed feeling of security. Then he spoke up again. "What about your real mother and father?"

"They were taken by the Prophet's soldiers. I was very young at the time." Shann's eyebrows knotted together. "I don't even remember my parent's faces clearly."

"Well, when all of this is over I will help you find them."

"Really? You mean it?"

"Of course," Alondo assured her. "And in the meantime, you and Gallar can come live with me and Hedda. That is, if you don't mind putting up with Hedda's nagging and my late night playing sessions."

Shann leaned back against Alondo's shoulder, feeling happier than she could remember. Eventually Alondo stretched and got to his feet. "Well how about helping me get a fire going?"

He held out a hand and pulled her up. She set off with him to gather wood. As they started towards a copse on their right, there was a disturbance behind them. They both turned to look back at the camp. A tall figure was standing in a dark robe, topped by a mass of fair hair. Lyall had returned. Shann ran back to meet him, slowing only as she saw the troubled look on his face. Alondo came up behind her. Keris walked over from the direction of the graylesh. Boxx hopped down from the back of the wagon, scuttled over the rough soil and raised itself up on its hind legs, head cocked to one side.

Lyall looked around at each of them in turn before delivering the news. "They are on our trail again."

Chapter 18

It was late the following morning when they happened on the vale of floating stones. The track had been rising steeply, causing the graylesh to move into low gear. All of a sudden, it levelled off and dropped towards a narrow ravine. Lyall who was riding out in front, raised a hand, signalling the wagon to stop.

Keris rode around the wagon to join him. "What's the problem?" Lyall pointed above the ravine. Rocks of varying sizes and at different heights were hanging over the pass, like a rock fall, frozen in an instant of time.

Shann pulled up to Lyall's other flank, eyes filled with wonder. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure... Keris?"

Keris patted her mount's striped sides. "Lodestones, obviously, although I've never seen them floating like that."

"They're 'Kal' stones," Shann blurted out. The other two looked at her. "You know, from the sacred texts."

Lyall extended his lower lip. "You may be right... I think it must be a naturally occurring phenomenon." He pointed again, his finger moving from the steep incline to the narrow floor of the gorge. "The ravine must act like a funnel, so that when lodestones fall they are collected at the bottom. Then other stones tumble down the sides and occasionally become suspended like that. Of course, that leaves us with a problem..."

Shann turned towards him. "What do you mean?"

"Recall the lesson I gave you at the farmhouse, Shann."

"Kal stones are unstable," she recalled. "So that means..."

"Precisely. If we are not very careful, we could easily end up bringing an avalanche down on our heads."

"But don't other people use this path?"

It was Keris who answered. "Not for many years, I think. It isn't even marked on the map. The main road east lies well to the north of here. We only ran across this trail by accident." She pulled her mount back and urged it over to one side of the path and then the other. "I don't see any other way around, not for the wagon at any rate."

Lyall was deep in thought. "I think we can make it through, if we are careful. I don't want to take any chances, though. "Alondo!"

"Yes, my liege?" Alondo called in a tone of mocking respect.

Lyall smiled wryly. "Get down from the wagon, would you? We have some preparations to make."

Alondo swung himself down and walked over to the three mounted figures. "I assume it has something to do with that?" He indicated the pass with its silent stone sentinels.

"That's right. We are going to need to muffle the wheels of the cart." He glanced at Shann and Keris. "Let's see if we can lend him a hand, shall we?"

They all dismounted and followed Alondo. In a short while, they had broken out the blankets and had them tied to the wheel rims. Boxx had climbed down from the rear of the wagon and was eyeing them curiously.

Lyall assembled the group. "All right, when we enter the pass, it's important that we maintain silence. Any sound might set off a rock fall. If you need to communicate, then signal to each other. We will travel on foot. Avoid the temptation to move too quickly. Any questions?"

"We could all travel in the covered wagon," Shann suggested.

Lyall shook his head. "If a large enough stone falls, it will rip right through that canvas and we'd never even see it coming. Out in the open, we at least have a chance of moving out of the way."

"What about Boxx?" Alondo asked.

"Boxx can travel in the wagon. Rolled up in that tough shell of his, he's probably safer than any of us. Right now, I wish we were all Chandara."

Boxx seemed pleased. "You Would Make Good Chandara," it declared. There was a ripple of laughter, which seemed to puzzle the creature.

The party prepared for departure. Then, at a signal from Lyall, they began their slow progression. Lyall walked in front, leading his graylesh by the reins, followed by Alondo, driving the wagon gingerly. Boxx was curled up somewhere in the back. Behind the covered wagon came Shann and Keris, leading their graylesh in single file.

As they entered the ravine, Shann realised that she was holding her breath. She exhaled slowly. Every sound appeared to be magnified in her ears: the grating of her boots on the rough scree, the step of her animal dislodging a pebble, the rhythmic creak of the wagon's axle. She could not resist the temptation to look up. Rocks of varying sizes floated motionless overhead. The sight was terrifying, yet fascinating at the same time, like watching an accident in slow motion.

There was a hissing from behind her. She turned her head to see Keris frowning and firmly pointing to her eye and then to the ground. Embarrassed, Shann snapped out of her hypnotic state, forcing herself to concentrate on the effort of putting one step in front of the other.

They were a little more than half way through when Shann heard the ominous sound of clattering rocks. Lyall raised his hand and the column came to a halt. Shann did not dare to breathe. After long moments, the sound died away. The party continued to stand frozen in mid-step. Eventually, Lyall motioned them forward once more.

Just when Shann was thinking that there was no end to it, she looked and saw that the cut opened out a short way ahead onto the wider hillside. They were almost through. Crash! A large stone dropped to their left, bouncing and striking against the side of the wagon. Crunch! Another fell behind them, kicking up shards of loose shale. She heard Lyall shout, "Run!"

Shann pulled at the reins, urging her graylesh to a canter. Keris was yelling at her rear, "Shann, get moving." Rocks continued to rain down as Shann broke into a run. Suddenly they were clear. Dust billowed up behind them as the aerial avalanche eased and finally died back to a low rumble.

Alondo looked back at the pass, mopping his brow. "That was close."

"Is everyone all right?" Lyall called.

Keris, fulfilling her role as rearguard answered, "We're all here."

Lyall relaxed. "Well done, everyone. Let's take a rest."

Shann tied her graylesh to the wagon and walked over to where Lyall was standing. She smiled at him. "Well, there's one good thing. The Prophet's men will have to face the same obstacle. It may slow them up a bit."

Lyall looked back at the ravine as the clouds of dirt settled back, obscuring all signs of their passing. "I don't know, Shann. They don't have a wagon to worry about. They will find a way around. Or they may set lodestone charges to bring down the rest of the floating stones. In any case, I have the distinct feeling that they are not going to be so easily put off."

~

Shann dropped out of the sky and alighted on a rocky outcrop. The flying cloak settled about her shoulders in a soft embrace. She shielded her eyes from the midday suns and squinted at the trail as it twisted back and forth through the Hills of Gilah. The landscape was sparse, copses of stunted trees and scraggy brush clinging to the sandy slopes. She glanced around at the stone slab on which she was standing. It was a perfect vantage point from which to view the soldier column as they approached. Satisfied, she sat down on the stone with her cloak tucked under her and took a swig of water from her canteen. It tasted cool and sweet.

A small creature rolled across the rock in front of her. It was round like an orange-yellow ball, with various protuberances, but no limbs that Shann could discern. It stopped in front of her, extending what looked like eye stalks in her direction. A hole opened in the side of the strange being–a mouth? Gas expelled from the hole, and the ball shot away in the opposite direction. The gas was fetid; Shann screwed her nose up.

She had already journeyed farther than she could ever have imagined and had encountered many strange sights. Not all of them had been pleasant, however. Some, like the vale of floating stones that they had encountered three days ago, had been positively dangerous. They had come through that incident relatively unscathed, but Lyall's prediction had been correct. The Prophet's men were still trailing them.

Her task, as ever, was to report back when she saw them stop in order to make camp. Lyall's instructions had been very clear: observe their position, but keep well away. "I don't want to have to come rescue you again."

"If I recall correctly, I rescued myself last time," she countered.

Lyall chuckled and rubbed the back of his head theatrically. "I remember."

Keris had been given the same injunction but with her, it was little more than a charade. Shann was not fooled for a moment. Keris was acting for them as their agent, so she was in no danger. Still, she seemed to be doing a good job of keeping up the pretence as far as the others were concerned.

It was evident that Keris did not fit in. The woman was like refined lodestone, repelling everyone she came into contact with. She spent much of her time on her own and did not tend to talk beyond the limits of operational necessity. Lyall did his best to include her, but Shann sensed that his only interest was in trying to mould them all into a cohesive team. She was convinced that he didn't actually like the woman. Alondo, on the other hand, liked everybody. That was part of his charm. Often he would make a comment to her with a twinkle in his eye, using humour to test her vulnerable spots. This would confuse and irritate her, which only added to the joke. But he did not seek out her company in the way that he would seek out the company of Lyall and of Shann herself. The only one in the group that seemed to gravitate towards her was Boxx.

In the evening, when they settled round the campfire, Boxx would scuttle over and lay beside her. Keris seemed strangely comfortable with its presence; in fact, she seemed more comfortable with it than with any others of her own race. When it spoke, it would choose to address her first, more often than not. Shann found its preference for Keris impossible to fathom, but perhaps that was not so surprising. Everything about the Chandara was near impossible to fathom.

As Shann contemplated the enigma that was Boxx, her eyes registered a movement on the winding trail far ahead. She ducked down instinctively and leaned forward. It was the contingent of mounted soldiers moving inexorably through the hills. Shann could not discern individuals clearly, but the banner they carried was clearly visible; a rectangular black cloth mounted lengthwise on a pole, bearing three concentric circles, one red, one yellow and one white, and above the three rings, like an abomination, an orange flame–the symbol of the Prophet. She tore her eyes from the banner and forced herself to concentrate on the approaching column. It seemed to her that she could only make out one dark cloaked figure at the front. Maybe the other was bringing up the rear, she speculated. However, as the column swung fully into view, there was still no sign. Where is he?

A nagging insistence at the back of her mind told her that she could not hang around too long. Shann drew herself erect and turned to head back the way she had come, when she sensed a movement, a subtle displacement of air. She wheeled around. A figure clad in a black cloak that mirrored hers rose up into the air and dropped lightly onto the outcrop in front of her. He was close enough for her to make out the cruel line of his mouth set into craggy features, the keen eyes watching her. She stood, rooted to the stone in shock. Her hand reached for her staff. Then, without a word, the Keltar turned, stepped over the edge of the rock platform and was gone.

Shann's mind felt as if it were swimming upstream, fighting the flow, struggling to comprehend what had just happened. Maybe the Keltar had not seen her? No, that was impossible–he had looked directly at her. So why was she still here? A realisation began to dawn in her, a confluence of the events of these many days. It was like a strong current, sweeping her towards a conclusion. And with the conclusion came something else, something that would finally expose Keris for who and what she was. At last, Shann had a plan.

~

Shann sprinted and leaped to catch up to Lyall and the others as if the Keltar she had encountered were breathing down her neck the whole way. Finally, she spotted the covered wagon, and touched down just behind the party, breathing hard. Keris, who was bringing up the rear, regarded her with an odd expression but said nothing. Shann ignored her and went to the front of the wagon. Alondo greeted her with a warm welcome and she bade him stop for a moment, so that she could untie her graylesh. She jumped onto the beast's back and squeezed its striped flanks, waving her thanks to Alondo and then riding to catch up with Lyall.

Lyall nodded to her as she drew alongside. "You're back early. Are our 'friends' up to something?" he asked.

Shann ignored the question. "Lyall, I want us to make camp."

He checked the position of the suns overhead. "What...you mean now?"

"That's right."

"Why? Did the others camp early?"

"No, not exactly."

Lyall looked at her uncomprehendingly. "I don't think that's a good idea, Shann. We have a fair amount of daylight left. If we camp now, it will give the Prophet's men a chance to gain on us considerably. It could be dangerous."

Shann's voice was insistent. "Please, Lyall, this is important. I want us to make camp here and now. Then you and I will both go back and check on the soldiers. If they are still pursuing us, then we will return and get moving again."

"But why–?"

"Let's just say that I'm testing a theory. If I'm wrong, you and Alondo can make fun of me all the way to the Aronak Sea, if you like. But I have to do this. Please."

Lyall looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then he called out behind him, "Alondo, pull over. We're making camp."

He turned back to face her and she smiled. "Thank you," she mouthed. They dismounted together and as they both patted their animals reassuringly, Shann touched Lyall's arm. "One more thing," she whispered. "Don't say anything to Keris."

~

Shann was hiding in the shadow of a boulder, peeking out from time to time for any signs of movement along the trail. She was relieved at last to see the tall form of Lyall bounding towards her. He reached her position and she got to her feet.

Well?" she prompted.

Lyall urged her back along the way they had come. "Come on, let's go." She followed him down the track, jogging to match his long stride. He seemed lost in thought. Finally, he opened up. "You were right, Shann, they are camped just as we are, burning daylight. Would you like to tell me what's going on?"

She paused to organise her thoughts. "I don't think the Prophet's soldiers want to catch up to us. Back on the plains, they were pursuing us for days. We were travelling as rapidly as we could, but we could only move as fast as the wagon. Didn't you ever wonder why we were never overtaken?"

Lyall extended his cloak and leaped up the hillside to his right. Shann followed suit, her boots kicking up dust as she landed beside him. They started to cut across country. "You're forgetting the incident at the tower," he countered. "They attacked us, remember?"

Shann studied the ground as she walked beside him. "I'm not sure about that. Maybe that was a mistake. Or maybe they got wind of what we were trying to do, somehow. But everything else points to the same conclusion: the fact that they didn't catch us on the plains, the fact that they camp when we do–and then there is what happened earlier today."

Lyall stopped and turned to face her. "What do you mean?"

"One of their Keltar surprised me."

"What?"

"He just...dropped out of the sky in front of me. I think it was an accident. At any rate, he immediately turned tail and disappeared out of sight."

Lyall's face was creased with anxiety. For a moment she thought he was going to berate her for her carelessness. "He said nothing?"

"No."

"Maybe he didn't see you?"

She faced him squarely. "Lyall, he was standing not much farther away than you are now and he was looking straight in my direction. There is no way he could have missed me."

"So, you think they are avoiding contact? But why?"

"I don't know exactly, but I think it is reasonable to assume that our Keltar friend has something to do with it, which brings me to another point. Have you noticed that she is still wearing that Ring of hers?"

"The Speaker Ring?"

Shann nodded. "She herself said that Speaker Rings are Linked. Hers is Linked to her master at the keep in Chalimar. Why would she hang onto the thing if she has cut her ties to the Prophet? You would have thought she would have tossed it away by now."

"It's just a ring, Shann."

"I thought so, too, until I saw her use it out on the plains."

"You saw her use it? Are you sure?"

"She sneaked out of the camp during her watch period. She doesn't know it, but I followed her. I saw her speaking into the Ring."

"What did she say?"

Shann shook her head. "I was too far away to hear. But the Ring lights up a green colour when it's being used. She was using it to communicate with them." Lyall looked sceptical. "You don't believe me," she challenged.

"No...no, I believe you. It's just...why didn't you tell me before now?"

Shann sighed. "I was going to. But Boxx got there ahead of me and activated that device he carries. When I saw and heard the image of the woman from the past, I didn't know what to think. It seemed to corroborate her story. I didn't think you would believe me. I felt I had to get more evidence of Keris' true intentions before I could approach you. When the Keltar suddenly appeared in front of me and then took off, I realised there might be a way to convince you of what was going on. How do you suppose the others knew that we had camped prematurely? The one Keltar I saw did not follow me, I'm sure of that. There's only one way they could have known. She told them."

She could see Lyall digesting the implications of what she was saying. "If you are right, that would mean that we are not fleeing the Prophet's men, we are being led by them. But where? I mean, what is the purpose behind it all?"

Shann looked up into his questing blue eyes. "Well, I know one woman who has the answer to that question and if we work together, I believe we can get it out of her. We will have to catch her in the act and then confront her."

"That sounds dangerous, Shann. If she is exposed, then she might turn on us. You have seen what she's capable of. I'm not sure that the two of us together could resist her."

"She doesn't scare me," Shann declared. "Besides, the alternative is for us to continue to be led blindly towards whatever these Keltar have in store for us. I think we have to know what they are planning."

Lyall seemed to debate with himself. After a few moments he reached a decision. "All right, we'll try it. But when the moment comes, I will question her. Are we agreed?"

"Fine," Shann concurred.

They both resumed their journey back to camp. By now, the yellow sun was close to setting and the nocturnal creatures of the Gilah Hills were beginning to buzz and stir. Shann felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. At last she had been able to share the troubling secret she had kept to herself for so long so that whatever happened now, she and Lyall would face it together. As she trotted beside him, there was something akin to a spring in her step.
Chapter 19

High in the Hills of Gilah, next to a bubbling rill, the camp sat bathed in Ail-Mazzoth's soft red light. Three sleeping forms lay, covered by blankets and coddled in the arms of a warm summer night. In the midst of the camp, the dark form that was Keris kept watch. All was still; even the faint rustling and chirruping of nocturnal creation appeared to have subsided, as if it were holding its breath in anticipation.

The tall woman rose silently and glided towards the tiny stream as it trickled over smooth stones. She took a last look behind her, then turned and stepped through the shallow water into the belly of night shadow.

At the camp, two of the blankets were cast aside and two figures arose; one tall and thin, the other short and slight. Lyall signalled to Shann for them to split up; he circling around to the left, she to the right. Shann nodded and set out in a low run for the bubbling brook. The swirling water played about her boots as she crossed to the other side and crept upstream. She felt an odd mix of calm and exhilaration. Ever since Gort, when the Keltar had joined them, it had seemed to Shann as if she were being surreptitiously controlled; propelled in a direction she did not want to go, yet powerless to prevent it. No longer.

Lyall had warned that catching Keris in the act of duplicity could be perilous. She might decide she would be better off eliminating him and Shann together. Shann had witnessed the woman in action at the tower. Lyall had also described the scene at the guardhouse, where Keris had taken on a Keltar and half a dozen soldiers single-handedly. Shann was not entirely convinced that that particular event had not been staged for their benefit somehow. It didn't matter. The showdown had to occur at some time or other; better it should be at a time and place of their choosing.

They were high up in the Gilah range now. Beyond the camp, the landscape climbed ever more steeply to what looked like a series of ridges or peaks farther up. Shann moved upstream a little way, lightly fingering the control at her collar to scan for the familiar push of raw lodestone. There was a small deposit in front of her and one off to her left. She put on a spurt, until she felt the front one pass just under her; then leaped and retracted the bronze layer of her flying cloak, pushing her up into the air. As soon as her momentum slowed, she angled herself to push against the deposit to her left and her trajectory shifted her up and to her right. Flying in a low arc away from the stream, she landed in a crouched position farther up the slope. She peered up the rocky incline, but there was no sign of the woman. Shann cursed inwardly. Perhaps Lyall was having better luck.

Sensing no more deposits in the immediate area, she began to climb towards the nearest ridge, seeking a suitable vantage point. As she crested the rise, she quickly scanned the area around her. Frustration was starting to take hold when she suddenly caught a movement way off to her left. A dark shape was scaling the hillside. Its movement was deliberate, purposeful. Shann dashed along the ridge and then swept silently down the slope at an angle calculated to bring her up behind the moving figure. Her quarry was continuing to climb in a straight line. Shann followed at a discreet distance, staying low and using cover wherever possible, but the shadowy outline did not look back. As she got closer she spotted the shock of sandy hair. Lyall. Her face adopted a rueful expression as she sprinted up the hillside and hissed his name. Lyall turned, registering her presence with a nod.

"Where is she?" Shann's voice was hoarse.

Lyall frowned. "I'm not sure. I was trailing her for a while, but then I lost her somehow."

Shann looked aghast. "You lost her?"

"I'm sorry," Lyall's expression was apologetic. "She's been trained in escape and evasion tactics, I haven't."

"Do you think she saw you?"

Lyall shook his head. "I was careful... No, I don't think so."

"So which way do we go now?" Shann demanded.

Lyall looked up at the rising slope and the jagged peaks beyond. "I don't know, Shann. There is an awful lot of hillside to search. She could be anywhere."

"Surely you're not going to just give up?"

"I don't think we have a choice. If she returns to camp before us and we are not there, then we are going to have a hard time explaining our absence. She will figure that we are onto her, and that will take away our only real advantage." Shann stared at him, bright green eyes flashing, but she knew he was right. She turned away, exhaling through her teeth. He placed a conciliatory hand on her shoulder. "There will be other times, Shann. This night's exercise has been valuable. We have proved that there is something suspicious going on with our Keltar friend. If we are patient and work together, we will uncover the truth."

Shann was no longer listening. She was rehearsing how she would finally confront the Keltar, how she would call her to account for her crimes and the crimes of all her ilk. You will pay for what you did to my parents. You will pay.

~

In the midst of a corrie rimmed by the silent peaks of the Gilah stood a lone figure, face hidden by the covering of a dark hood. Its presence was dwarfed by the scale of the ancient rocks which towered around it, yet somehow it exuded an air of authority which seemed to dominate even the stones themselves. Another black shape dropped through the air, alighting two dozen paces or so in front of the first. Keris' flying cloak settled about her shoulders, enrobed in long black tresses. She crossed the short stretch of ground between them, coming to a halt in front of the other. Their respective forms cast long shadows on the uneven stone.

"It's good to see you, Keris." The dark presence raised its left hand and pulled back the hood. Small intense eyes burned in a round face; a mouth with sides turned upwards in a half smile. Mordal.

Keris felt a pang of guilt at the sight of her former mentor but thrust it away. She recalled their fateful discussion on a spring afternoon in the keep garden a lifetime ago, or so it seemed. That discussion had taken her on a journey neither of them could have imagined. She had travelled farther and farther from Mordal and all that he represented. Yet now here he was, standing before her. Full circle. "I have come as you asked," she began.

Mordal's eyes twinkled. "Thank you. I am pleased to see you looking well, Keris."

She looked downcast. "I'm sorry about the boy, Nikome. I tried to talk to him, convince him to stand down. He wouldn't listen. There was an explosion and he...fell from the tower." She swallowed.

Mordal raised a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Do not concern yourself with that. It was unfortunate, but he disobeyed a direct order. I am gratified that you were not hurt."

Keris felt off balance. Of all the reactions she could have expected from him, kindness was the last. She allowed some small part of her to hope that her plan might actually work out. She gathered her courage about her. "Have you considered my proposal?"

"Yes indeed," Mordal responded. He added lightly, "I would like to hear more about those devices you found."

"There's not much more I can tell you about them. The mechanism at the tower was destroyed, as you know. The communication device is in our possession, but it does not operate on demand. The woman from the past appears only at certain intervals. She mentioned a power generation problem. That's all I know."

Keris had been very careful about how much she revealed to him through the Speaker Ring. She had told him about the holographic machine and the messages sent by the woman from the past, but she had deliberately not mentioned the Chandara's involvement. She had informed him that they were travelling to the tower to investigate another device but had not admitted to knowing its purpose. It was all very much a calculated risk on her part. She knew she would need to limit the damage in the event that it all blew up in her face.

To begin with, her idea had been simply to convince Mordal of the threat to the Kelanni. She would use the tower to transfer to the other side of the world with Lyall and the others, while he would remain here as a powerful friend and ally, working to undermine the Prophet's schemes. With the destruction of the tower, things had changed. It seemed to Keris that the best way to proceed now would be for them to join forces and find a way to cross the Great Barrier together. However, achieving that objective would be a much harder task. It would involve a great deal of trust on both sides. Right now, they had many more reasons to distrust one another. If this plan was going to stand any chance of working, it would have to be handled very carefully indeed. She and Mordal were the key. She had to convince him of the danger that the Prophet posed to them all.

She studied the ageing Keltar. He appeared thoughtful. Keris decided to press home her advantage. "You should come with me to our camp. Alone. I will go in first and explain what is going on. The leader, Lyall, is a reasonable man and he will listen. The girl will be a problem, but I can handle her. Once I have their agreement, you can meet with them and we will arrange a truce. I will also show you the mechanism we are carrying so that you can see it for yourself."

"I don't think that will be possible." Mordal's quiet voice seemed to fill up the night.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid I have a confession to make," Mordal continued. "I did not come here to discuss your proposal."

"Then what–?"

His smile vanished. "I want you to return with me to the keep, to claim your rightful place as my successor."

Keris looked confused. "Have you not heard what I have been saying? All Kelanni is under threat. Besides, you must know that after what happened at Gort, there is no way I could return even if I wanted to."

"Do not worry. I have taken care of everything."

"Taken care...how?"

"No-one will know about the incident at the compound." Mordal's tone assumed an edge of pride. "Remember Ferenek? You spoke to him of your suspicions before you knocked him unconscious in his office. When he came to, he started asking awkward questions. A short while later he...met with an unfortunate accident."

"But why?"

"He knew of your involvement," Mordal stated simply. "Then there were the nomads you travelled with over the plains. I could not be sure exactly what you had told them, so I felt it safest to make sure they could not talk."

Keris felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. All those people – dead. The shock of it was too much to bear. He was killing indiscriminately–for her.

"Nikome is gone," Mordal continued. "The soldiers know nothing. The only other person who is aware of your involvement is Saccath. Once he is silenced, we can return to Chalimar together and you can assume your rightful place. As far as anyone is concerned, you have been engaged on an extended mission under my orders. No-one will be any the wiser. Do you see? I have covered for you. All you need to do is decide to come with me now, and all will be well."

Keris was still reeling from the enormity of the revelations. No...it can't be...it has to stop. I...I cannot allow this to continue.

"I only did all of this for you, Keris. For you. You have to come with me now." Mordal advanced toward her and grabbed her by the arm. She pulled away in horror. His voice assumed a hard edge. "You will come with me now, or you will not leave this place." In one swift movement, his staff was balanced in his thick fingers, brooking no argument. She backed away. He began to circle her, a smile playing on his lips once more. "Unfortunately, I cannot allow my actions to become known. What will it be, Keris? Shall we leave and embrace our future together. Or shall we 'dance' one last time?"

Madness? Obsession? Keris knew little of such things. It was impossible to believe that this was the same man who had taken her in and nurtured her, who had impressed on her the conviction that the Kelanni needed to be protected and cared for. Yet somehow he had turned into a monster.

His hands slipped to one end of his staff and he swung it towards her in a wide arc. She jumped back instinctively, the diamond blade passing inches from her midriff. "I'm gratified to see that your reflexes are as keen as ever, Keris." He spun around and then leapt into the air a short distance, aiming the staff at her head. She side-stepped neatly, and the blade flashed past her harmlessly. "Good, very good," he approved, "Now, are you going to obey my wishes or are you going to defend yourself?"

He was advancing on her again. Keris felt as if she were in a waking dream. One hand moved involuntarily to her staff, gripping the smooth darkwood. It felt solid, reassuring. Her other hand moved to her neck control and she adjusted the bronze layer of her cloak, seeking the pressure of natural lodestone. As she registered the strengths and directions of the familiar push of the ore, it was bizarrely the words of Mordal himself that came back to her, spoken in a different place and at a different time.

"Battling another Keltar is unlike any other battle you will ever fight. When encountering anyone else, the lodestone will furnish you with a decisive advantage in height and momentum. However, when you are facing another Keltar, those advantages are cancelled out. Instead, the field of battle and the configuration of lodestone deposits become all-important. A clash between Keltar is primarily a battle of tactics. Even superior strength and agility can be overcome by superior positioning and spatial orientation. You must immediately determine the location and strength of any deposits and then 'own' them, denying your opponent any advantage."

Keris tested the push on her lodestone layer from different directions, mapping out the floor of the corrie in her head, one directly behind her–weak. Two behind Mordal, one to the left–medium strength, and one he was almost standing on–the strongest of the three. His was the clear advantage. No doubt he had planned for this eventuality when arranging to meet her. The spot he had selected, even the place he had chosen to stand, were far from random. Keris cursed her own lack of foresight. She would have to go on the defensive and stall for time, hoping to reposition herself so as to challenge his dominant stance.

Start with what you have. She backed off rapidly and activated her cloak, leaping and pushing off against the deposit behind her. It was more to see what Mordal would do than anything else. The next move was clearly his. The aged Keltar flared his own cloak and pushed off the big deposit, soaring over her. She descended, holding out her staff with both hands defensively. He dived, his staff meeting hers with a loud crack, then let loose with a flurry of blows as they both descended. He drove her down, finishing off with a powerful slicing move as her boots hit stone, forcing her to her knees. He locked staffs with her, eyes wild with elation.

Keris gritted her teeth and strained for a moment before shoving him back. Mordal swung his blade and slashed her arm as she rolled away. Keris felt the flash of pain. She embraced it, allowing it to keen her senses. Getting her feet under her, she rose to face Mordal once again. He was still positioned between her and the main deposits of lodestone in the ground. In spite of his age, his reactions seemed unimpaired. If I don't come up with something soon, I'm finished.

Grenades. She was loath to use her limited supply, but they would be of little use to her if she were dead. She reached into her pouch, fingers closing on a round metallic shape. Pulling it out, she quickly twisted one hemisphere. A low whine emanated from the lodestone grenade, rising rapidly in volume and pitch. She tossed it in Mordal's direction. It bounced once on the stone and exploded in a burst of light and flame. Mordal, however, had already leapt beyond the blast. As he settled back to the ground, cloak fully extended behind him, he was laughing and shaking his head. "Keris, Keris. Why not just accept the inevitable? Leave those other fools and come back with me, now."

Keris was not listening. She had used the interlude to scan the field once more for lodestone and she detected something she had missed before, something that gave her a faint glimmer of hope. If Mordal had missed it too... She raced to her left, using the small and medium deposits to give her a combined lift, so that she rose up the steep wall of the semi-circular basin.

Mordal had an amused expression as he extended his cloak once more and thrust upwards, using the momentum of the strong deposit. She saw him hurtling towards her, staff at the ready, in anticipation of the imminent clash. Hers was a risky manoeuvre. It required precise timing and there were too many ways it could go wrong, but she was desperate. As she flew up the side of the cwm, she felt the pressure from her objective, a lodestone deposit embedded halfway up the rock wall. As she drew level, she slammed open her bronze layer, arresting her upward rise, then pivoted feet-first toward the rock wall, withdrawing the bronze and exposing the lodestone layer. She shot forward on a horizontal trajectory away from the wall. Mordal could not react in time, and she careened into him, impacting his lower abdomen. Pain lanced through her shoulder as they were both sent into an uncontrolled spin. The ground whirled crazily as Keris fought to right herself by using her cloak to brake her descent. She was only partially successful, landing in a heap on the stone floor.

The various cuts and bruises on her body screamed for attention but she dismissed them, casting her eyes about for Mordal. There was no sign. Then she saw it–a dark shape near the rear of the dimly lit basin. It was not moving. Keris got to her feet with a grimace, holding the cut on her right arm with her left hand in order to staunch the flow of blood. She made her way over to the latent form and dropped to one knee, extending her bloodstained fingers to touch his shoulder. Mordal's eyes were open, expressionless–his neck broken. She got to her feet, tears forming rivulets in the grime clinging to her olive cheeks. Why...why did you make me do it? She ripped the Speaker Ring from her finger and hurled it at the body, excising her final connection to her mentor. The Ring bounced off and plinked on the rough stone before coming to a dead stop.

Keris, Keltar that was, turned on her heel and strode away. She did not look back.

~

Keris stopped at the bank of the stream and dropped to her knees. Without warning, she felt overcome by a wave of nausea. She began retching uncontrollably. The swirling waters enveloped the contents of her stomach and mercifully swept them away. When it was over, she washed her face, and bathed her wound, ripping off a part of her tunic to form a makeshift bandage. She rose up again, her legs feeling unnaturally weak, and made her way back to camp.

Lyall and Shann were waiting for her standing side by side in the rosy half-light. Keris noted that they were both clad in their flying cloaks. "You left your watch," Lyall declared. It was almost an accusation, but not quite.

Keris felt wracked by pain and exhaustion, but her expression betrayed nothing of her true state. "I...thought I heard a noise. I went to investigate."

"And what did you find?" Lyall enquired.

"Nothing," Keris replied, her heart heavy and dead as stone. "Nothing at all." She turned and headed for her blanket to catch whatever fitful moments of sleep she could before morning came.

~

Saccath stood silently over the body of Mordal, allowing a cold rage to consume him. His hand opened, revealing the Ring that had been left next to the body, as distinctive as a calling card. Keris.

Somehow the woman had convinced him to leave their camp at night without an escort and had then lured him into a trap. His neck was broken with no other sign of injuries. Efficient. Mordal had clearly underestimated the former Keltar. Saccath would not be making the same mistake.

The Captain of the guard, dressed in a crimson surcoat, marched over, stopping at a respectful distance. "Orders?"

Saccath allowed the rage to settle in his belly, giving him a new sense of purpose. "We will bury His Excellency. Then you and your men will return to the keep and report all that has happened.

"But...what of you?" the Captain asked.

"You will report that I am pursuing the rebel, Keris, and her group. I will exact penance for her actions."

The Captain seemed as if he were about to object, then looked down at the figure lying on the ground and appeared to check himself. "Very well, My Lord." He bowed once and turned away towards the knot of soldiers gathered around the black banner. The three suns and the flame of the Prophet fluttered defiantly in the breeze.

Saccath regarded the body of Mordal once more. I am coming for you, Keris. You cannot escape. I will pursue you to the very ends of the world.

Chapter 20

Lyall, Keris, Shann, Alondo and Boxx looked down from the Gilah Hills at the country spread before them. It was a rural landscape, dotted with what appeared to be small farms. Shann could make out fields of crops, ripening in the summer heat, and pastures containing what looked like domesticated raleketh. To the north and east, there was a river flowing from the hills; a bright ribbon which twisted back and forth before flowing into a shimmering lake. It was a welcome sight after so many days trekking through the barrenness of the Gilah.

The path through the hills had suddenly opened up onto a bluff overlooking the panorama beyond. Keris was standing near the edge, one leg resting on a small boulder. She was closely examining a small instrument in her left palm. It contained a type of lodestone, one that always pointed south, that travellers used to help find their way. Keris, of course, had never permitted her to have a close look, so she could only guess at its operation. Shann had a wild fantasy where she saw herself creeping up behind the Keltar. One good shove would send her tumbling over the edge. Problem solved. Would any of her travelling companions seriously object?

Suddenly the tall woman pointed towards the south-east. "Over there."

Alondo peered along the line indicated by her finger. "I don't see anything."

"There," Keris insisted. Shann looked out over the distant lowlands and saw a faint irregular patch of dwellings. "The village is marked on the map as Pinnar in a stretch of land known as the Distrada. Just beyond is the north-south road and a day's journey east of that lies Kharthrun."

"Pretty." Boxx was standing on its hind legs. Lyall and Shann looked at the Chandara, but as usual, no-one was quite sure what it meant.

Alondo was still squinting at the horizon, as Lyall placed a hand on his shoulder. "What is the situation with our stores?" he asked the musician.

Alondo pressed his lips together. "Too low. The food we stockpiled on the Eastern Plains is gone and it's been slim pickings in these hills. We need re-supply."

"Then Pinnar is our next destination. Keris, what can you tell us about these people?"

Keris gave a blank look. "Nothing, really. The settlements are on the 'tribute circuit,' but I was never sent down this way."

Lyall sounded cheerful. "Well, let's see if we can't make some new friends. Time to move out." Shann tore her eyes away from the seductive view and followed him to where the sleek graylesh stood patiently. She mounted her animal, patting its neck, and waited for Alondo and Boxx to board the wagon. Keris took up what had become her customary position during the journey along the narrow hillside trails: alone at the van. It was a prudent defensive measure for someone to watch their rear, but no-one had asked Keris to assume the responsibility. The manner in which the older woman had fallen naturally into the role suggested much about her place within their group. She travelled with them but she was apart from them by her own choice–to preserve her secrets, no doubt, and to make it easier for her to betray them all when the moment came. Shann watched her as she sat high in the saddle, aristocratic and aloof. I know what you are about.

Since that fateful night by the stream when she and Lyall had lost the woman's trail, there had been two significant events. The first became evident later the following day, when Lyall returned from his scouting mission and gathered the others before announcing, "They're gone."

"How do you mean?" Alondo asked.

"The Prophet's men no longer pursue us."

Shann's brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. I even found the remains of their last encampment. I think we should continue to backtrack in order to check, but they seem to have withdrawn."

Alondo looked worried. "But... why would they do that?" He looked at Keris and the others followed suit.

Keris, who had been silent up to now, seemed to wake from a stupor. "Why are you all looking at me?"

"I don't know," Lyall interceded. "Maybe we have travelled far enough from the keep that they no longer view us as a threat." That did not seem very likely to Shann. "In any event, I choose to interpret this as good news." Despite Lyall's optimism, the air was one of sombre reflection rather than celebration. Keris turned her back on the others and walked away without a word.

The second development occurred later that evening, as they sat consuming a portion of their dwindling rations. Alondo was doing his best to keep things light with his generous smile and easy manner. As Keris chewed on a piece of dried raleketh meat, Shann glanced idly at the older woman's right hand. Her Speaker Ring–it was missing.

Shann bit into a flatbread and flicked her eyes towards Keris' other hand. Nothing there. Of course she might easily have taken it off, or placed it somewhere for safekeeping, but during the entire time since she had first encountered their group on the desert road leading from Gort, Shann had never seen her without the Ring.

Later that night she called Lyall to one side and shared her observations. Lyall absorbed her comments thoughtfully. "Maybe our Keltar has finally renounced her loyalty to her former friends."

Shann registered shock. "You're not serious."

"I'm not sure," Lyall admitted. "It could equally be a sign that she knows somehow that we are on to her. But the Prophet's men do seem to have turned back from following us. It is tempting to think that there may be a connection. Let's continue to be watchful, all right?"

During the intervening days there had been no further sign of pursuit and Keris' Ring did not reappear on her hand. Shann, however, was not about to be deceived. Somehow, the woman had altered the rules and was playing a different game now. As the party got underway and began descending through the Gilah Hills towards the pasture land below, Shann imagined she could feel the Keltar's eyes boring into her back. Biding her time. Awaiting her chance to strike.

~

Alondo urged the graylesh forward as the covered wagon pitched and rolled over the rough track between the fields of the Distrada. Lyall pulled up his mount and called over his shoulder, "How's it going back there?"

Alondo's face showed signs of strain. "Well, it would help if you could get down off that beast and fill in a few of these potholes for me."

Lyall smiled. "No problem. And while we are at it, Shann and I can jump on those bumps and flatten them out for you, if you'd like."

Shann chuckled. "You'd have to make it worth my while. A nice juicy raleketh steak and a cup of narrian wine, I think."

"I'd appreciate a four course meal, too, if you could manage it." Alondo ventured.

"Well, I'll buy you both the finest meal in Pinnar, how's that?" Lyall's expression became pensive. "Of course the place is pretty small, so that may not be saying much."

Shann didn't care. Right now she was starving, and the talk of food only made her juices run in anticipation. After so many days of living rough in the hills, with the Prophet's men chasing them, she was looking forward to being able to relax at last with a good meal, a bath and a warm bed. She could smell that steak already.

Up ahead, the squat stone built dwellings of the tiny rural settlement were clearly visible. To either side of them, a patchwork of fields stretched away. Sounds of animals, wild and domestic, played in her ears and the scent of growing things filled her nostrils. People clothed in rough browns and reds could be seen, bent over and absorbed in their labours. Without warning, one of them pointed at their small caravan and hollered something. His voice was echoed by others, who dropped their implements and began running towards the village. The sound of the repeated shouts carried over the open field to reach Shann's ears as a single word. Keltar.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Keris riding around from the rear to join them in the front. The tall woman was wearing the distinctive black flying cloak. As she drew level with them, Shann let fly at her. "Look what you did. You scared them off."

Keris' face was impassive. "So it would seem. Their reaction is quite puzzling."

"Puzzling? You're dressed as a Keltar. People are terrified of them," Shann blustered.

"You don't know what you're talking about, child. People normally come and do obeisance rather than run away. Ignoring a Keltar can bring about their wrath."

"Nevertheless," Lyall interposed, "we do not want to give the impression that we are in the service of the Prophet."

"It seemed a good way to get their attention." Keris was watching the fleeing villagers.

"I would rather begin any encounter with honesty." Lyall was insistent.

Keris turned to look at him. "I'm not sure that's wise."

Lyall turned his mount and faced her squarely. "We will not gain allies by beginning with deception or by posing as our enemies." His voice softened. "Let's see if we can talk to these people, shall we?"

The party rode on into the village of Pinnar and came to a halt in the midst of an open area, ringed by low stone cottages with roofs of rough thatch. Gundir barked at their approach. A flock of black birds with red tipped wings lifted from the gables, flapping against the thick air. There were no other signs of life. Lyall looked around and behind him. "Where is everybody?"

"Hiding," Shann scowled, "from her." Keris did not react.

"What's going on?" Alondo called from his seat on the wagon.

"We're not sure," Lyall returned. "Just stay where you are for now."

"The graylesh need water and feed," Alondo reminded him.

"I know, thank you." Lyall dismounted, Shann and Keris following his lead. He surveyed the empty village once again. Raising a hand to his mouth, he called out. "Hello, is anyone there? We would like to trade. Hello?" Nothing stirred. The doors of the various crofts remained stubbornly closed. "So how far is the next village?" Lyall enquired.

"Too far." Keris' face was dark. Shann snorted in disgust.

"Perhaps if we wait for long enough and appear non-threatening, they will come out eventually?" Lyall speculated. As he was speaking, Keris started forward. She was striding towards the nearest dwelling, the ends of her flying cloak fluttering in the light breeze. "What are you doing?" Lyall shouted at her back.

Keris did not look back. Her tone was menacing. "Getting you your supplies."

Shann's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open as she watched Keris pause before the entrance, lift her right boot and kick the door viciously. What the?

"Keris–Keris, stop... Keris." Lyall called out, but the tall dark-haired woman was not listening. She seemed to be in a private trance, as if she were taking out days of agony and frustration on the doorway. Her face contorted as she lifted her boot once more–crack. Splinters of wood flew from the impact of her boot heel–crack. Shann could hear the groaning of tortured cross members–crack. The door finally gave way, flying open on its hinges and banging against the opposite wall. Keris marched inside.

Moments later she reappeared at the entrance. She had two elderly villagers, a man and a woman, by the scruffs of their necks. Keris half dragged them to the open centre of the hamlet and pitched them forward, so that they fell headlong to the hard-packed ground. "Please, Lady–please spare us," Shann heard the old man whimper.

Keris ignored him, turning instead to address the shut up stone dwellings. "Get out here–now." As Shann watched, doors opened slowly, and dejected villagers approached their caravan, heads bowed. Frightened children could be seen hiding behind the legs of their parents. Probably scarred for life, thanks to Keris.

Lyall stepped in front of Keris, both hands raised. "We mean you no harm. We are not Keltar, despite our appearance. We wish to trade with you. However, if you wish us to leave, we will leave peacefully and not return. And...we will be happy to pay for a new door." Keris looked at him sharply, but said nothing. Shann knelt beside the elderly couple. "It's all right," she soothed, helping them to their feet. Their expressions were confused, but they accepted her assistance gratefully.

A man with long, straight black hair and a weathered face stepped forward. He wore a simple brown tunic and black breeches. His tail twitched in agitation and his eyes narrowed. "You say you are not Keltar. Yet this one bears the cloak and carries the staff." His eyes flicked over Keris. "How can this be?"

Lyall raised his voice to address the assembled crowd. "She was Keltar, but no longer. We do not serve the Prophet. We are...working against his interests."

"Last turn of the season Keltar came to this village with their soldiers." The weathered-faced man declared. "They acted much as your Keltar there. Then they took all that we had and put five of our men folk to death. Their widows and orphans are here before you."

Shann caught the eye of one little boy, no more than six turns old. She smiled at him. He turned away and buried his head in his mother's skirts.

"I'm deeply sorry for your loss," Lyall spoke up.

The dark haired man continued, "You said that if we asked, you would leave and not return."

"Yes," Lyall affirmed.

"Then we would ask that you leave and not return." From the wagon behind her, she heard Alondo curse under his breath.

Lyall gave a slight bow, then turned on his heel, leading his graylesh back the way they had come.

"What is that?" It was a woman's voice from the crowd. With their eyes fixed on the exchange between the two men, no-one had noticed the Chandara hop down from the back of the wagon and scamper over. The creature stood erect on its rear hind legs, its head cocked to one side. "I Am Boxx."

Some in the gathering started to back away. A young girl screamed. Keris interposed herself between Boxx and the milling crowd, staff at the ready. "Wait." The hubbub subsided before a commanding voice. A small older man stepped forward. He was well dressed by village standards, with a faded green jacket and matching cap. Shann was vaguely reminded of an older version of Alondo.

The older man's face was filled with wonder. "You are Chandara."

"You Are Kelanni," Boxx responded. The man in the green jacket laughed infectiously. Shann could sense the assembly relaxing. Keris returned her staff to the sleeve at the back of her tunic.

"It certainly is Chandara." The older man's gaze was fixed on the little creature. "But it is a very long way from its forest. It is travelling with you?"

"Yes," Lyall confirmed.

"Incredible. Tell me," the older man addressed Boxx directly, "these you are travelling with, are they servants of the Prophet?"

Boxx replied in its thin high tone. "They Do Not Serve The Prophet. They Seek To Destroy His Device. For All Kelanni."

"These people are not servants of the Prophet," the older man declared.

The man with the long dark hair scowled. "You would take the word of this...this thing?"

"Forgive us," the man in the green jacket addressed Lyall. "Grief and loss can cause people to give way to fear and suspicion." He made eye contact with the dark haired man. "Whatever you may think of them, Mevan, Chandara do not lie. Nor do they serve the Prophet." He turned back to Lyall. "I am Ernan, Headman of Pinnar. Our village is humble, but you are welcome here for as long as you wish."

"I thank you, Ernan. I am Lyall. This is Shann and our former Keltar is called Keris. The fine fellow driving our wagon is Alondo." Alondo doffed his cap and grinned. "I appreciate you may have little to spare, but I would like to discuss securing the provisions we need to continue our journey. We are prepared to compensate you fully."

Ernan nodded thoughtfully. "We do not have an inn here in Pinnar, but I have a comfortable home. If you and your party would consent to stay with me, I will see what we can do to assist you. I would also enjoy a conversation with your Chandara."

Shann chuckled. "You're the first person I know who's ever said that."

The crowd began to disperse, murmuring to one another as they did so. The party followed Ernan as he led them in the direction of his house. Lyall hung back and buttonholed Keris, addressing her in low tones. Shann pricked up her ears to listen in. "What you did back there–well done." Keris looked at him strangely. "But if you ever do anything like that again, you will no longer be a part of this group."

~

Ernan's home was comfortable indeed. The hearth was not lit this deep into summer, but the atmosphere was warm and homely, with delightful smells wafting from the kitchen. Shann realised that this was the first time since the farmhouse near Lind that she had actually stayed in a house. The hut at the compound didn't really count. Memories of the compound made her wonder how Roanol and the others were doing. I haven't forgotten you.

The main living space was set with an assortment of stools. Alondo sat opposite her, making adjustments to his curious instrument. He had offered to play for them later that evening. He looked up and smiled at her every so often. Boxx lay with its head on the wooden floor. Keris sat on her own three stools over. Her hands lay in her lap and she seemed unnaturally subdued after her earlier violent outburst. What is going on in your head?

Lyall was engaged in discussions with Ernan. The negotiations seemed protracted, but Ernan's wife and only daughter kept them supplied with cool drinks. The daughter kept stealing glances at Alondo; he seemed to have that effect on women. Maybe it was something to do with being a musician.

At length, Lyall emerged with Ernan. He was smiling, which she interpreted as good news. "I think I have secured most of what we need. Replacing the door wasn't cheap." He meant it as a joke, but Keris' face was as impassive as ever. It was almost as if... she were in mourning. But for what? For whom?

Ernan flopped onto a stool across from Shann and Alondo and gave a genial smile. "Hungry?"

"Yes, please," Shann replied a little too eagerly, evoking a ripple of laughter from the others. Her eyes fell to the floor.

"Good–that's good," Ernan spread his hands. "Evening meal will be ready soon. Our fare is simple, but good enough to satisfy our young friend here, I think." He winked at Shann and she perked up. Then his mood seemed to shift. His wide mouth straightened, his blue eyes narrowed, and his forehead took on a slight frown. "Lyall tells me you are bound for Sakara and that you intend to travel through the Fire Pits?"

"That is correct," Keris answered from her place across the room.

The older man leaned forward and put his hand to his mouth but said nothing.

"Anything you can tell us about them might be helpful," Lyall prompted.

There was a pause. Then Ernan spoke, his eyes unfocussed as if he were speaking to himself rather than to a room full of people. "Nobody travels through the pits and with good reason. There are too many ways to die. The fumes can choke and the ground is unstable in places. There are pools of boiling mud and scalding water. And then there is the Serpent."

Alondo looked up. "You mean the Kharthrun Serpent? I thought that was a story told to frighten young children."

"Oh, the Serpent is real," Ernan's eyes focussed on the musician, who let his instrument slip to the floor. "Although it isn't just a single creature, of course; there must be a number of them."

"Have you ever seen one?" Shann asked.

"No. But Mevan, the man you spoke to before, has; as a young man, he ventured into the Pits with three others, one of whom was his brother. The Serpent attacked them. He was the only one to survive."

There was a shocked silence. Finally, Lyall spoke up. "Did he say anything about the beast?"

Ernan shook his head. "Only that it stalks his nightmares to this day...I do not mean to interfere. We have a saying here in the Distrada: 'A mylar determines its flight and a man his path.' However, I would be less than a host if I did not acquaint you with the dangers that lie ahead of you."

A silence descended once again. It was Alondo who verbalised their thoughts. "Maybe we should reconsider taking the route through this place?"

"Nonsense," Keris countered. "If we take the road north, east and then south we will lose at least ten days. We have lost too much time already owing to our failure at the tower. The journey across Kharthrun will only take a few days. Then it will only be a short distance to the coast and the port of Sakara. There is nothing that lies within Kharthrun that we cannot deal with. Do not let yourself be swayed by these...fables.

Shann shot a glance at Ernan, but he merely shrugged slightly. Once again it was Lyall who stepped in to smooth over any ruffled feathers. "I thank you for your counsel, Master Ernan. However, the urgency of our mission demands that we take the swifter route, even if it is at some risk to ourselves."

Ernan exhaled, whether through resignation or disappointment, Shann could not tell. "Then I will do what I can to aid you. You will have whatever supplies we can muster and I will arrange for an escort to conduct you safely to the rim. I cannot ask them to descend into Kharthrun itself–I'm sure you understand."

Lyall gave a short bow. "Your offer is most generous, Ernan. We would like to get underway as soon as possible tomorrow."

A tinkling sound came from the direction of the kitchen. Ernan stood up. "Well, I believe evening meal is about ready, after which I will make the arrangements for your departure tomorrow. At least I have this evening to talk to your Chandara friend.

Boxx raised its head at the mention of its name. "Chandara Friend," it agreed. Shann wondered if she ought to warn Ernan that he was liable to end up with a splitting headache, but decided that it was probably best to allow him to make that particular voyage of discovery on his own.

Ernan was leading the way towards the kitchen while conversing with Lyall. "So, what does your Chandara eat...?" Shann and Alondo got up and fell in behind them, followed by Keris and Boxx. However, she found that she was no longer listening to the conversation. Her physical hunger had been replaced by a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. The Fire Pits...the Kharthrun Serpent...the very stuff of nightmares.
Chapter 21

Down. The way to the Fire Pits lay open before them. A slim path, a tiny fault of broken rock, led the way down the immense canyon wall before disappearing beneath clouds of vapour, beckoning them towards the dangers that lay hidden below.

The headman had been as good as his word. He and a group of half a dozen villagers rode with them to the rim of the immense depression. On the way, Ernan told them The Legend of Kharthrun. According to the tale, the Pits had been formed long ago, when the people of the Distrada had displeased The Three. The Suns had fashioned a fireball and hurled it from the heavens to serve as a sign of their wrath. The fireball gouged out a vast burning pit. Then it engulfed a forgar worm, feeding it until it grew into the Serpent. Shann thought the story outrageous and even a little blasphemous, but she listened politely and held her tongue.

At the rim, they halted and looked out across the fear-inspiring vista. Beneath the steam clouds Shann glimpsed twisted features amid dark volcanic rocks. The immense bowl stretched as far as the eye could see, looking for all the world as if it had been scooped out by a gigantic hand. She began to wonder whether there might be some truth to the legend after all.

Ernan could not hide his concern, as she and the others offered their thanks and expressed their goodbyes. Lyall made a formal gift of the wagon and the graylesh to Ernan, and they bowed gravely to one another before the older man conducted them personally to the point at the lip of the cliff face where the path began.

Lyall produced a long length of rope. "Tie the rope around your waist like this." He knotted the rope around his middle and handed the end to Shann. She tied it in the same way and passed it to Alondo. "We stay roped together till we reach the canyon floor, in case of any mishaps."

"What about Boxx?" Shann enquired.

Lyall shook his head. "I think the rope would only hamper its movements. More importantly, it's much lighter than any of us, so if we were to stumble or fall, we would just drag it down with us. No, I think the Chandara is better off as it is." He addressed the little creature directly. "Boxx, be careful as we descend. Do you understand?"

Boxx raised itself erect on its hind limbs as if coming to attention. "I Will Be With Keris," it declared happily. Keris looked away, but said nothing.

Shann hefted her pack and manoeuvred her arms between the shoulder straps. They had slimmed down their possessions to no more than they could comfortably carry. For Shann that meant just her flying cloak and her staff; besides food and water, she had nothing else. She watched as Alondo reached inside his jerkin and pulled out the emerald he wore around his neck. The jewel sparkled in the early afternoon light. He bowed his head silently, mouthing a few words–a prayer? – before tucking the stone back out of sight. Shann was suddenly struck by the fact that she had no memento, no keepsake, nothing of her former life and home. If she died here in these Fire Pits, there would be nothing on her body to indicate to anyone who found her who she was or where she was from. Had she been a good or a bad person? Had she loved anyone or been loved? Had her short life amounted to anything? She felt a wave of sadness wash over her. Alondo had offered her a place in his home along with Hedda, but that was a long way off and there was a good chance she would never live to take him up on it. For now, all she had were the cloak and the staff. Yet perhaps those things said more about the person she was now than anything else. From that moment on a rain-soaked night in Corte, when she had grabbed the staff and ran forward to give it to the tall fair haired man with the piercing blue eyes, she had crossed a line. She had taken her life in a new direction. She had decided to become someone who could make a difference.

Slowly and carefully, the party began their descent into the Fire Pits of Kharthrun. Single file, perched on the narrow rock ledge with their backs against the cliff wall, edging towards the plumes of rising steam mingled with smoke and sulphur, Shann felt a growing sense of peril. What was it Ernan had said? Too many ways to die.

~

Shann could already feel the heat rising from below, creating an updraft of unsteady air currents. The palms of her hands were pressed against the rock face as she moved along a ledge not much wider than her feet. Don't look down.

Alondo seemed to be faring worse than she was. He was far from sure-footed, and Shann could see the apprehension in his eyes. He tried cracking jokes in an effort to raise his spirits. "Lyall?" His voice was like a thin thread.

"Yes, what is it?"

"You know, out of all of the things we have done so far, I think this is my least favourite."

"I know," Lyall soothed, "try to hang in there, my friend."

The flying cloaks were useless; a fall from this height would not be stopped by any deposits of natural lodestone, even assuming there were any directly beneath them. Looking out over the expanse, it occurred to Shann that there were no birds flying. The silence was broken only by laboured breathing and the sounds of boots scraping against rock.

At times the ledge widened a little, allowing them to make faster progress. Keris was stone-faced, her dark eyes betraying no sign of anxiety. She moved over the thin strip of rock with the grace of a dagan. Boxx shuffled along with ease. He was forced to stop frequently as the Kelanni in front of him slowed his progress.

They were a little more than halfway down. The ledge had widened once again, and Shann was beginning to think that the nightmare would soon be over, when Lyall stopped in his tracks and raised a hand. Shann halted and so did the others. She noticed that Alondo was breathing heavily.

"What's the matter?" she called ahead.

"Look." Lyall moved aside to allow her to glimpse the way ahead. She squeezed against him, craning her neck. The narrow shelf continued for a short way before coming to an abrupt end, a broken edge falling off into nothingness–a brutal denial of passage. Her heart sank at the thought of making the journey all the way back up the cliff side. The musician had slumped down and was seated with his back to the rock, hugging his knees. His eyes were shut and he was breathing through his teeth. She was not at all sure he would make it.

Keris edged past Alondo and approached Shann and Lyall. She had untied herself from the rope and removed her pack.

"Why have we stopped?" she demanded.

Lyall met her eyes gravely. "The path is gone."

~

"Let me see." Keris sidled past the other two and crept gingerly to where the path ended abruptly.

Lyall leaned forward. "Be careful; it may not be safe."

Keris did not answer or look back. She got down on her knees, then lay flat on her stomach and peered into the abyss below. Her head moved up as her eyes scoured the rock face. There. Ever since that night in the Gilah Hills when she had faced Mordal for the last time it had seemed as if a maelstrom were churning within her, a storm of grief and loss over which she had no control. When she had found herself kicking down a door in the village of Pinnar, it felt as if she were another person, yelling at herself from afar, but unable to make herself stop.

The feelings of grief and loss were still there, but now, for the first time in many days and nights, Keris felt a centre, a point of calm. She stood in the eye of the storm, aware of her feelings, but detached from them somehow. Here was a problem, an obstacle, but one that could be overcome by logic and tactical analysis. She was on familiar ground once more. She was in control.

She got back up and retreated to where Lyall and Alondo were waiting, indicating behind her with a flick of her head. "The path continues ahead of and below us. It begins again at a fault line, where the canyon wall is split."

Lyall moved to the end of the path and checked where she was indicating. He turned back, shaking his head. "Too far. We could never jump that gap."

Keris looked straight at him. Her eyes flashed. "I can do it."

Shann and Lyall looked at her with disbelief. "If you're thinking of using the flying cloak, it would take a leap of great precision to make it to that far ledge without falling off," Lyall argued. "What's more, there would have to be a good lodestone deposit on this side and you haven't even taken the cloak out to scan for any yet."

"I won't be needing any." Keris moved back along the narrow shelf. She passed Alondo and went to the place where she had set down her pack. Carefully she extracted her flying cloak and fitted it around her shoulders, fixing the clasps and shaking her head so that her dark tresses settled across her shoulders, framing her sharp delicate features. She tied the pack to her belt and made her way back to where Shann and Lyall were waiting expectantly. She addressed Shann. "Give me your cloak, please." Shann looked to Lyall, who nodded at the girl. Obediently, Shann took off her pack and gave her own cloak to Keris. "Thank you." Keris headed for the broken end of the path once more and knelt down just short of the edge. She laid Shann's cloak out on the rock surface and began making adjustments to the control mechanism.

Lyall walked up behind her. "May I ask what it is you're doing?"

Keris continued perfecting her adjustments without looking up. "I can get us all safely across to the other side." Satisfied, she stood up and faced Lyall. "But I need you to do exactly as I say. Please ask everyone to untie themselves from the rope."

Lyall examined her with his penetrating blue eyes, as if trying to read her mind. "Everyone, untie yourselves from the rope." He gathered in the line and handed it to Keris, who took one end and tied it around her torso.

She handed the other end to Lyall. "Keep a firm hold on this." Then she turned, stepped just beyond the place where Shann's cloak lay, took a sighting on the far ledge and leapt into the void.

There were two parts to this plan that were going to prove difficult. This was the first. She had configured Shann's cloak so as to expose the refined lodestone. Refined lodestone was stronger than any naturally occurring deposit, so she was in no doubt that she could traverse the distance. The problem was that there was nothing at the other end to put a brake on her momentum. For that reason, she had selected a trajectory that was as low as possible. The refined lodestone in Shann's cloak gave her an unaccustomed jolt and she sailed across and down the cliff face towards the opposite ledge. Keris angled as close to the cliff as she dared as the narrow rock shelf rushed up to meet her. She overshot the edge, and her boots impacted the hard rock as she came to a running stop. The rope spanned the gap between both ledges.

Keris removed her cloak and placed it carefully near the fault line, exposing its lodestone layer. Then she looked up to the broken path across and above from her. She could see Lyall and Shann, as well as Alondo and the round head that was Boxx, driven by curiosity to see what was happening. "Lyall," she called out.

"Yes?"

"I want you to tie the rope securely around yourself and make the jump, just as you saw me do. I have set my cloak so that you can use its lodestone to slow your descent."

Lyall glanced behind him. "But what about the others?"

"Listen carefully," Keris yelled. "In order for this to work, we have to execute a series of actions in a precise order. Everyone will be fine. I...must ask that you trust me."

There was a pause. "Very well." Lyall disappeared over the rim and then reappeared wearing his own cloak. "Ready?"

Keris grabbed the rope and braced herself in case he should miss his aim. "Come on."

Lyall set his sights on the opposite ledge, as he had seen Keris do, and then hurled himself boldly across the gap. His legs bicycled in the air as he flew in a somewhat higher arc than she had. Keris saw him adjust his neck control, partially extending his bronze layer, using Keris' cloak to slow his fall. He landed lightly on the other side. "That was incredible." He looked back over the distance he had just crossed. "What now?"

"Take off your cloak," Keris interrupted. Lyall reached to his neck and undid the clasps, handing the cloak to her. She dropped her pack and retrieved her own cloak, placing his cloak on the ledge, and checking the settings. One step at a time. She fixed her eye on the upper ledge, bent her knees and flared her own cloak, pushing against the lodestone in Lyall's cloak. This time, she angled her body so as to assume a more vertical path. The power of the refined lodestone took her up and over the lip of the path, to land in front of Shann and the others. Shann and Alondo looked too shocked to applaud.

Boxx was moving around in tight circles, although whether that was intended to signify excitement or anxiety, Keris had no idea. Keris picked up Shann's cloak and handed it to her. "You are next. Put this on, and tie the rope securely around your upper body." Shann did so. Keris checked the knots and nodded her approval. She undid her own cloak and placed it on the path, adjusting it so as to uncover the lodestone layer. Then she faced the girl. "As the lightest one here, you will need to carry Boxx across. Can you do that?"

"I think so...yes." Shann appeared uncertain.

"I Will Fly Now," Boxx piped.

Keris was not sure whether this was a question or a statement, so she replied simply, "Yes."

"Chandara Do Not Fly."

Keris was not about to embark on another fruitless exchange with the creature. "Then this will be a first for your people." She turned back to Shann. "Wrap your arms around Boxx and hold it securely as you jump. You should be fine, as your combined weight is no more than any one of us. Alondo and I will be holding the rope securely in case anything goes wrong."

Shann's lips were tightly pursed as she fastened her cloak. Then she bent to pick up Boxx. The creature squirmed like a small child. "Keep still," she commanded. Boxx stopped struggling.

"Make sure you get a good push off the lodestone," Keris counselled, "and try to stay as tight to the cliff face as you can." Shann nodded. Keris could see the fear in her eyes. She held the girl's gaze, trying to instil confidence. You can do this.

Shann walked to the edge and hesitated. Don't lose your nerve now. Keris watched as if in slow motion. Shann clutched the Chandara to her chest, bent her knees and leapt upwards. The rope snaked outwards, with Keris holding firmly on to the other end as she followed Shann's trajectory. Higher...a little higher. The girl was falling short. Keris felt a rising sense of panic. She tightened her grip on the rope–there was nothing more she could do. Shann touched down on the very edge of the broken path and began to topple backwards. Lyall reached out and grabbed her with both hands. She fell forward, landing on top of him, with Boxx between them. As they slowly disentangled themselves, Keris breathed a sigh of relief. Good girl.

Boxx stood up on its hind legs. "Again...I Fly Again." Lyall and Shann burst out laughing.

Almost there. Alondo's face was creased with concern. Keris ignored him, retrieving her own cloak and fitting it around her shoulders. Then she hailed across the gap. "Is everyone all right over there?"

"We're fine," Lyall shouted back.

"I will need to borrow Shann's cloak once again. Tie it securely to the rope." Shann removed her cloak and handed it to Lyall who did as he was bid. Keris tugged on the rope hand over hand and pulled it up the cliff side. She placed it once again on the ledge. Next, she checked the equipment still on their side; Alondo's instrument and pack, and Boxx's pack, containing the machine which Annata, the woman from the past used to communicate with them. Boxx's pack was the lightest. She faced Alondo. "Please let me have your pack and your instrument."

Alondo removed the items and handed them to her. "So, how am I getting over there?" He was doing his best to sound nonchalant.

Keris hefted his instrument and tied his pack to her belt. She tied the rope around herself once more. Finally, she handed him the other end of the rope. "Whatever you do, don't let go." she told him firmly.

Then, without another word, she turned and launched herself skyward. The return journey was less of a challenge. Although she carried Alondo's instrument as an additional burden, the presence of Lyall's cloak on the other side afforded her considerably more control during the latter part of her flight. Keris touched down on the ledge, receiving a smile and clap on the back from Lyall. She untied the rope, set down the instrument and Alondo's pack and then turned to view the ledge above them. The others followed her gaze.

A round face appeared, topped off by a jaunty red hat. "Er...hello?" he quivered. "Are you still there? Because I'm still here."

Keris cupped her hand to her mouth to amplify her voice. "Alondo, can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Alondo, I want you to listen very carefully and do everything I tell you. Can you do that?"

"All right."

Keris could hear the note of apprehension in his voice. She made her own voice as even as possible. "First of all, I want you to pick up Shann's cloak and put it in Boxx's pack, then tie the pack around your waist."

There was a pause while they waited expectantly. Eventually, Alondo's head appeared once more. "I've done that."

"Good, very good. Now I want you to tie the end of the rope under your arms. Be sure it's secure."

Another pause. Keris signalled for Lyall and Shann to take up the rope with her. Then Alondo's voice came back. "I've tied it good and tight."

Well done. Now I want you to step off the edge."

"Excuse me?"

"Step off the edge," Keris insisted. "Look, you will be perfectly safe. There are three people here ready to pull you up. The best way is not to try to jump, just step straight off. Keep away from the side of the canyon, but don't swing too far out or you will swing back and hit the rock face."

"Lyall?" Alondo pleaded.

"Just do as Keris says and you will be fine," Lyall assured him.

"Come on, Alondo, you can do it," Shann called.

There was silence. Then a tremulous voice from above, "Very well, I'm going to count to three." Keris, Lyall and Shann looked at one another but said nothing. Alondo appeared at the edge. "One...Two...Three." They watched as Alondo stepped off and fell into nothingness. A moment later the line went taut. They took the strain, pulling up the rope as quickly as they could. At last, Alondo's head appeared and his hands grasped the broken path. Keris dropped the rope and lunged forward, grabbing the back of his tunic and manhandling him over the lip. As she pulled backwards, she sat and her foot kicked out. Something broke free and fell over the edge. She hauled him the rest of the way up and he turned back, panting with exertion. His face was etched with alarm, no longer for his own predicament but rather for something that affected them all.

"The pack with the machine in it," he cried, "it's gone!"
Chapter 22

"I can see it." Keris was lying with her head over the precipice, Lyall keeping firm hold of her legs. She crawled backwards over the uneven rock shelf. Lyall released her and she got to her feet. "The pack is lodged part way down. The strap seems to have become caught on a spur."

"How far down is it?" Lyall asked anxiously.

"We can reach it with the rope, but it's off to the side, back beyond where the path ends. We would have to abseil down the rock face here, and then swing on the rope to reach it."

Lyall frowned. "It sounds risky, but I don't think we have a choice. We have to get the machine back, not to mention Shann's flying cloak."

Keris bit her lip. "It was my fault. The whole thing was my idea and I was the one who knocked it off the edge. I should be the one to go."

"But you were trying to save me at the time," Alondo chimed in. "I don't know how, but somehow my belt came off with the pack attached. I should have made it more secure. If anything, I'm to blame."

Lyall was insistent. "Forget it, Alondo, we're not sending you down there again."

"I'll go," Shann heard herself say. The others looked at her in surprise. Shann felt smaller than usual under the questing gazes of the other three, but she felt a knot of resolve forming within her. Keris had tried to destroy the machine and make it look like an accident. If she let the woman go down there on the pretext of trying to retrieve the pack, it would be a perfect opportunity to finish the job. She could not say any of that out loud, of course. Fortunately, she knew of another effective argument. She addressed Keris directly. "You said it yourself. I'm by far the lightest one here. Swinging to and fro will increase the strain on the rope and the people who are anchoring it. I am the safest choice."

There was a pause as she allowed her words to sink in. It was Keris who spoke first. "The girl is right; she is the best choice." Shann was a little surprised that the woman had caved in so quickly. Maybe Keris was even now formulating a plan to sabotage her efforts somehow. No matter. Shann had to get the machine and her cloak back. She would have to deal with whatever came.

Boxx was looking from one to the other, as if trying to work out what was going on. Alondo appeared distinctly unhappy. Lyall fixed her directly with his steady blue eyes. "Are you sure about this, Shann?"

She was ready for him. She drew herself up as tall as her slight frame would permit and met his gaze. "I'm sure. Let's get on with it."

Keris had gathered the rope, and was making a loop. She looked Shann over and adjusted the size, before tying an elaborate knot. She then placed it over Shann like a lasso, pulling the running noose, so that the loop was around her buttocks. She spoke to Shann as she worked. "You've never done this before, have you?"

Sure I have. Every day after we finished working in the kitchen, we'd go find a vertical drop and dangle from it. "No," she replied.

Keris jerked the rope experimentally, and Shann felt it tighten. She offered it to Shann who took it from her hand. Their fingers touched briefly and a distant part of Shann's mind noted that in all the time they had been travelling together, it was the first time they had made physical contact.

"Keep hold of the guide rope at all times," Keris was saying. "Use the loop as a seat and face the cliff side, using your legs to push against it as you descend. Don't push too hard, or you risk coming back and hitting the rock wall. Remember, we will be on the ledge holding fast the rope, so we won't be able to see you from that angle. You will have to let us know when to let out the rope and when to pull you up. You must also let us know when you begin swinging, so that we can brace ourselves for the extra strain. Don't be in too much of a hurry. Start with a small swing and when you reach the apex, push as hard as you can in the opposite direction. If you get into any sort of difficulty, let us know at once. Do you want me to repeat any of that?"

The woman talks to me as if I were three turns old. Shann felt like telling her to take her advice and shove it. Instead, she simply answered, "No, I understand."

Keris examined her handiwork once more before turning away and nodding to Lyall and Alondo. The three of them took up the rope. She turned back to Shann. "Whenever you're ready."

Shann suppressed the sudden desire to gulp. She grasped the rope and began to back slowly over the edge.

"Please be careful, Shann," Alondo called after her.

She forced a smile for him. "I will."

The edge of the path cut off her companions as her legs bounced lightly down the side of the cliff. She could feel heat rising, a slight updraft against her back which ruffled the ends of her short dark hair. The side of the cliff was sandy brown, with occasional streaks of black and yellow. There were cracks and indentations in the surface, the wear and tear of ages past. Shann looked up. The taut line twitched as it eased her descent. "Hold it." She turned her head to the right, scouring the side of the canyon. She couldn't see the pack. Her heart sank. Maybe it dislodged itself already and fell to the canyon floor? Then she saw it, caught in a crack below and to her right. "I can see it. Lower me a little more." She started down again with a slight jolt, keeping her eye on the position of the pack. "Slowly." She passed below it. "Stop." The rope juddered to a halt and she hung in silence for a moment. "I'm starting my swing."

She flexed her legs against the unyielding rock...left...right...left. A part of her wondered idly whether Gallar was perhaps wondering where she was and what she was doing right now. She tried to imagine how her surrogate mother might react if she could see her little Shann, swinging back and forth over a sheer drop. What have they got you doing? I'm sorry, Gal. I have to do this.

The rope began to creak as she swung back and forth. The pack flew up and then away again. Almost there. Shann held onto the rope firmly with her left arm while her right arm was outstretched, seeking contact with her prize. The pack loomed into view once more and her fingers scrabbled for the strap, knocking it free. Her heart froze as the pack dropped and then jerked to a stop once more. I mustn't fail. She swung away and back twice more, driving against the cliff face to widen her arc. The rope groaned with the strain, but she ignored it. As she drove herself up for the third time, she splayed the palm of her right hand. Her fingers closed firmly around the strap and she pulled it free. Got it.

Shann bounced her legs against the rock to cancel her swing. She came to rest, clutching the pack to her as if it were a living thing. Then she called up in a voice that had grown hoarse. "I've got it. Pull me up." The rope jerked once more and she began to ascend rapidly. As she crested the broken ledge, Lyall grabbed the pack from her and then he and Keris each took a hand and dragged her up onto the flat shelf. She got to her feet only to have the air crushed out of her lungs as Alondo dropped the line and rushed over to give her a desperate bear hug. He was still holding on tightly when she heard Lyall say, "Well done, Shann. Now let's get down from here, shall we?"

~

Alondo sat on the floor of the canyon with the hologram machine in front of him. Boxx sat opposite him, its head moving from side to side, as it peered into the device. Lyall and Shann stood off to one side. Inside Lyall, patience was fighting a hand to hand battle with concern. It was concern that finally won out. "Can you fix it?"

Alondo looked up at him and shrugged. "I don't even know that it's broken." He picked up the mechanism carefully and rotated it so that Lyall could see. "The casing is dented here...and here. Other than that, the unit seems basically intact. However, most mechanical devices don't take kindly to being bounced down a hillside."

"What does Boxx say?" Lyall suggested.

"Boxx knows how to operate the controls. But there's a big difference between knowing how to operate something and understanding its inner workings." He turned it once again. "This panel is the 'on' switch, and there's a little light next to it which is supposed to come on. The light isn't working."

"What does that mean?" Lyall asked.

Alondo sighed. "I wish I knew. This technology is beyond anything I've ever seen before. Most of these components–I can't even guess at their function... I think this orange object is a power source of some kind but if it is, no power is getting to the rest of the mechanism. There could be various reasons for that." Lyall looked confused. Alondo reached over into his pack and drew out his water bottle, holding it up. "If my water bottle is empty, it could be because I drank all the water or it could be because there's a hole in it."

"So what you're saying is that it could be damaged, or just out of power."

Alondo nodded vigorously. "Exactly." He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them, scrutinizing the circular machine once more, as if challenging it to give up its secrets. This was the other side of Alondo. One was the carefree musician, the joker who kept others' spirits up. The other was the natural engineer, the mechanical genius who could do anything from repairing a flying cloak to building the amazing vortex arm that he carried.

"I think the device stores energy, which it uses up when the woman from the past communicates with us. That energy may be transferred by the link itself. Our best option may simply be to wait till the next appointed contact and see what happens." When he looked up at Lyall and Shann once more, he had his familiar grin. "Maybe next time you talk to Annata, you could ask her for an instruction book or a plan diagram for this thing?"

"The optimist of the group," Lyall commented. "You're assuming it works at all."

Lyall suddenly noticed that Shann was very quiet. He stole a glance at the slim, dark haired girl. Her face was like a thunderhead. She strode away without uttering a word. Alondo looked up at him questioningly. Lyall raised his hand in a leave it to me gesture.

He followed her to where a tiny fumarole hissed and sputtered like a spiteful animal. They were a short distance from the canyon wall, where Lyall had declared a rest period following their tortuous descent into Kharthrun. Heat shone forth from the yellow and white suns far above. The floor of the canyon stretched off into the distance before being obscured by clouds of rising smoke and steam.

She had her back to him as he walked up behind her. "Shann, what's wrong?"

"She broke it." Shann's voice sounded choked.

"We don't know that," Lyall reasoned. "You heard Alondo. It might simply be out of power."

Shann was still facing away from him. "She planned this all along. She wants to destroy the machine and us."

Lyall wanted to take her by the shoulders and turn her round to force eye contact. He hung back instead. "I can't see that makes sense, Shann. Why would she bring us the machine and then try to destroy it?"

"I...I don't know. Maybe...maybe she doesn't want us to hear what Annata is going to say next? Annata said the instrument she is directing us to is dangerous and powerful. Maybe Keris wants that power for herself?"

Lyall shook his head. "That's no more than speculation, Shann...You know, I've been thinking about it. Apart from the one time when you saw her using her Ring out on the Eastern Plains, every other piece of evidence against her is circumstantial. She keeps to herself, she isn't always good with people and she disappears off into the night on her own, but those things don't make her guilty. The truth is that without her help and expertise earlier today, we wouldn't be here now. I think there is definitely something going on with her, but I wonder if we are misreading the signals somehow. Are you absolutely sure you saw her using the Ring?"

Shann rounded on him. Her thin face was streaked with tears. "I know what I saw." He reached out to her, but she pulled away. "You don't see it, do you? You don't see what she's doing to us?" She pushed past him and stormed back towards the others. "I'm going to show you. I'm going to show you, right now."

Lyall started to trot after her. "Shann, stop... Shann, come back here." The girl did not turn or hesitate. Instead, she made a beeline for the place where Keris sat alone, checking and servicing the mechanism of her flying cloak. The tall woman looked up as she saw Shann approaching. She put aside her work and stood, her stately form towering over the diminutive girl. Whatever Keris was hiding, Lyall knew that she would have to be confronted about it eventually. Now that the moment had arrived, he was shocked to find that he was no longer in control. He could do no more than watch helplessly as the two women faced each other amid the rising smoke and steam and the rumbling fury of the Fire Pits.

Shann's arms were straight down at her sides. Her face was a mask of rage. "You destroyed it on purpose."

Keris frowned. "What are you talking about, child?"

"The machine," Shann spat. "You kicked it off the ledge. You destroyed it."

Keris looked at Lyall with an annoyed expression, then back at Shann. "That was an accident."

The girl stood her ground. "No, it wasn't. You're working with the Prophet and his people. You've been speaking to them through the Ring."

Keris' face changed to one of shock. "What?"

"I saw you."

Alondo and Boxx hurried over, drawn by the sounds of confrontation. They stood off at a respectful distance, watching the drama unfold. Lyall could see Boxx's head moving rapidly up and down in an agitated fashion. "The Key, The Key...," it was squeaking in its shrill voice. Lyall blotted out the Chandara from his mind. He did not have the time to deal with its banter. I have to defuse this situation right now.

"Shann, that's enough," Lyall intervened. "I'm sorry, Keris. She's confused and upset. She doesn't know what she's saying."

Shann turned towards Lyall, her eyes blazing. "I'm not confused. I know what I saw."

Lyall reached out his hand. "Shann, come along."

"No. She's been talking to her masters in Chalimar all along. She sold us out. Ask her if you don't believe me. Go ahead, ask her."

"That's enough, Shann." Lyall's tone was insistent. "Come with me now, please."

"The girl is correct." Silence fell as all eyes turned towards Keris. The tall woman's eyes dropped beneath their stares and then rose once more to settle on each of them. "I did talk to Mordal using the Ring, but not for the reason you think," she paused, "Deep down Mordal is...was a man of principle. I had the thought that if I could explain things to him–convince him that all Kelanni were threatened by the Prophet's plans–then he might call off the pursuit and become an ally. As it turned out, I...was wrong."

"Why did you not tell us what you were doing?" Lyall demanded.

"Because I was afraid of exactly this reaction. I am not stupid. I am aware that you view me with suspicion." Keris' eyes settled on Shann, who immediately looked away. "But I was a Keltar for many years. I figured that the Prophet's men would Ring ahead and set an ambush for us somewhere in the Distrada."

"What made you think that?" Lyall asked.

Keris harrumphed. "Because it's exactly what I would do in their place. The Distrada has been hit hard by the Keltar and the Prophet has many enemies there, but he also has allies, people who are drawn by power and the opportunities it presents. That's one reason why I suggested travelling through Kharthrun instead of taking the usual route to Sakara. It's also why I agreed to meet up with him in the Gilah, but instead of coming to look at the evidence, he tried to make me go back with him. We fought and he was killed. It was a mistake."

Lyall's face was dark. "Yes it was. You realise how this looks."

"Yes, and I'm sorry for that. I have no way of proving any of this. I should have confided in you all, but... over the years, I have become accustomed to working alone. It is a difficult habit to break." Keris stiffened. "If you wish me to withdraw from your company, I will understand."

There was an awkward silence. It was Lyall who finally broke it. "Do you wish to be a part of this group?"

"Yes," she replied. Then she added, "If you will have me."

"Then I require your solemn oath that you will never attempt anything like this on your own again."

As the others looked on, Keris drew herself erect. "I swear."

Lyall nodded once. "Very well, then. The matter is closed." He turned slowly and walked away.

Shann ran past him and stood in his path with her feet squarely planted on the pitted volcanic rock, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Her features were screwed up and her fists were clenched at her sides. "So that's it?"

"That's it, Shann.

"But you heard her. She lied to us. She's been lying to us all along. How can you just let her off?"

"Because I believe everyone deserves a second chance."

~

Mevan lit the oil lamp and closed the small glass panel. Yellow effulgence slowly filled the little croft, banishing the shadows to their dark corners. He placed the lamp down on a small table and settled himself on to a stool which lay next to the open hearth, to await his night visitor. His dark, lank hair lay flat against his back and the lamplight cast his tanned features in sharp relief.

At length there was a single rap on the door. A tall figure entered without waiting for permission and closed the door behind him. The figure strode over the rough wooden floor to stand before Mevan. Mevan gestured towards another stool. The visitor responded by pulling up the stool to sit opposite him. "Good evening, Mevan. It has been many days."

"Indeed it has, Lord Saccath. Your duties carry you far from Chalimar, I see." Saccath was clad in simple serge coat and black trousers such as a trader might wear. Clearly this was not an "official" visit. He did not wish to be identified as Keltar.

"I am actually on something of a private mission," Saccath confided. "Did you encounter the fugitive band?"

Mevan nodded. "They arrived here, just as you predicted. They had a Chandara with them, of all things. I attempted to turn them away with a view to encountering them later on the road, where there would be no witnesses. Unfortunately, that fool Ernan intervened. He gave them shelter and supplies and conducted them personally to the Fire Pits."

Saccath leaned forward. "They went down into the Pits?"

"It is true, I swear."

Saccath put his hand to his chin, deep in thought. The cragginess of his face appeared exaggerated by light and shadow. Finally, Mevan broke in. "I'm sorry; there was no opportunity for me and my men to intercept them."

Saccath roused himself from his deliberations. "Do not concern yourself. They will be taken care of."

"You are not going down into the Pits after them, surely?" Mevan protested. "I lost my own brother to the Pits. They are too dangerous for any right-minded person."

Saccath smiled thinly. "Your concern for me is touching, Mevan, but I assure you that I have no intention of chasing them all the way down there. There is no need. I am quite sure that the denizens of Kharthrun will deal with the insurgents most effectively. And in the unlikely event that any of them do survive to reach Sakara, I will be arriving there to ensure that that is the end of their journey."

Saccath stood up. "Once again, your loyalty and service to the Prophet's cause have proven valuable. I think that the village of Pinnar would benefit from a new headman, someone with the vision and commitment to secure the peaceful cooperation of the people. I will speak to the authorities at the keep upon my return."

Mevan got to his feet and bowed low. "I appreciate your faith in me, sire." As he watched Saccath turn to leave, he permitted himself a smile of grim satisfaction.

Chapter 23

The Fire Pits insinuated themselves on Shann's senses like an all-enveloping beast with sinews of smoke and steam. Sulphur and soot stung her eyes, invaded her nostrils and left her with a foul taste in her mouth.

They were roped together once more, as a safeguard against the hazards of the Pits, Lyall had explained. The farther they travelled into the depths of Kharthrun, the more she could see the wisdom of that precaution. It seemed as if every step were fraught with potential danger.

In places, the ground over which they walked was little more than a thin crust of hard white residue that crunched beneath her boots. There was no way to tell how thick–or how thin–the crust was. One good reason for the ropes.

They passed along trails between pools of boiling mud in shades of pink and orange. Shann watched in fascination as the mud slowly bubbled and popped, like an overly thick soup. Lyall placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't get too close, Shann." She nodded and they resumed their passage through this chimerical world.

Plumes of steam emanated from conical vents or fractures in the ground, drifting over the landscape like fog. Every now and then, jets of boiling water were ejected into the air from raised pools, only to die back moments later to form a bubbling, angry cauldron. It was both spectacular and frightening at the same time.

Columns of basalt rose up from the canyon floor, forming winding gaps and small twisting valleys to confound their path. Shann quickly found that after she had been turned around several times in this way, she had had no idea in which direction they were headed. It was Keris who kept them on track both by continually checking the directional lodestone she carried and by using the flying cloak to determine their bearings. After the incident two days ago, when Shann had forced the confession out of her, Keris' position within the group had changed. Now she was out in front, leading the way, her detached arrogance replaced by settled assurance as she consulted her lodestone device and pointed confidently. "This way." Shann was reluctantly forced to admit that without her direction, they would probably end up totally lost, condemned to wander endlessly in the ever-shifting clouds of steam. Clearly, Ernan had not been exaggerating when he said that most of those who ventured into this place never made it out again.

They were skirting an emerald green thermal pool, edged by shades of yellow and red, when Shann saw a movement out of the corner of her eye–a dark shape slipping through the water. A fish? She stopped without warning, pulling Lyall to a halt on the tether, and almost causing Alondo to bump into her.

Lyall walked back to her position. "What's up?"

"Look," Shann pointed into the water. She could now see sleek shapes of various sizes, all covered by what looked like thick scales. Thin wisps of steam were drifting over the glassy surface. "How do they survive in there with the water near to boiling? They would cook, surely."

By this time Keris had doubled back to investigate the disturbance. She followed their eyes. "Fish–so what?"

"What kind are they?" Lyall asked.

"I don't know. I'm not a fish expert–why, are you hungry?"

"No, it's just–" Shann began.

"Then let's move on, shall we?" Keris strode off without waiting for anyone's agreement.

"I was just curious," Shann protested.

Lyall offered her a smile by way of compensation. "Don't worry about it, Shann; although she does have a point. Out here, curiosity can be fatal."

As their journey across the vast canyon floor continued, Shann saw other creatures, the likes of which she had never seen before. The fact that anything could survive in these conditions, let alone thrive, was a testament to the adaptability and tenacity of life.

There was a black thing that looked like a snake with both ends joined up, flexing its way over the ground in the shape of a figure eight.

A little farther on, a balloon-shaped creature an arm's length in diameter floated lazily over a thermal vent. It was dull orange in colour with black mottling. As it rotated, Shann counted four evenly spaced eyes, although she could not see a mouth. It looked like a much larger version of the foul smelling ball she had encountered in the Gilah.

Shann could not resist. She ran forward and tapped Lyall on the shoulder. "What is it?"

"I think it's a variety of maralah," Lyall speculated, "although I confess I have never seen one anything like that size before. Maybe they are suited to the heat of the Pits?" Shann kept her eyes fixed on the balloon as they passed. It bobbed up and down over the vent and continued turning slowly, oblivious to their presence.

Eventually, they reached a level rock platform. "The suns will be setting soon," Lyall observed. "I think we should make camp here."

Shann untied herself from the rope and gratefully flopped down where she was.

Keris held out the lodestone device in her outstretched hand and turned slowly, checking her observations. "We are making good time," she announced, "better than I hoped. We should reach the eastern rim as early as tomorrow. There is an easier route out of the Pits on that side."

Shann sat back with her hands splayed against the rock and examined her surroundings. The flat rock was bounded on one side by a natural terrace of chalky white stone. In front of it, there was what looked like a deep depression in the ground. Shann got up and walked closer to get a better look. It was a large hole, a fissure which disappeared into the ground. She peered over the edge but could not see the bottom. The fuliginous interior seemed to draw her in.

She heard Lyall's voice behind her. "Don't get too close."

Shann tore her eyes away and turned to re-join the others. Keris was standing next to Lyall. She still wore the ebon tunic, trousers and flying cloak of a Keltar. You look the part. As Shann approached, she heard the woman make a curt remark before turning on her heel. Shann glared at Keris' receding back for a moment and then made eye contact with Lyall.

He raised one eyebrow. "You two are going to have to learn to get on, you know."

Shann made a sound in her throat. "She doesn't get on with anyone. I can't believe you swallowed her story like a piece of rotten raleketh meat."

"I didn't 'swallow' it, Shann. I told you: I merely gave her a second chance."

"You think she deserves a second chance? What about all the things she did when she was a Keltar? Have you asked her how many people she killed?" Or how many parents she ripped away from their children?

"That's not fair, Shann." No. Leaving someone without their parents; not knowing if they are alive or dead –that's not fair. Lyall smiled. "You and Keris are like two pieces of refined lodestone, repelling each other, yet unwilling to admit how similar you are."

"I am nothing like her," Shann fired back.

Lyall exhaled slowly. "You and she are both on a journey–not the act of putting one foot in front of another, but a journey of a different sort. You have always thought of yourself as weak. Yet with all that has happened over the past few days, you have discovered that you have strengths you never knew you had. You have fought sand scarags, escaped from a slave camp and ridden down a cliff. You are not the same person who left Corte."

Shann's brow furrowed. "I suppose."

"Keris is very strong mentally and physically, but she has discovered that she has weaknesses she didn't know she had. She too is on a journey. She too is not the same person she was. And just as you need help to come to terms with your new strengths, she needs help to deal with her weaknesses."

Shann smiled in spite of herself. "I think you've been spending too much time with Boxx. You're starting to sound like it."

He laughed. "I take that as a compliment." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Want to get something to eat?" They both walked over to where Boxx was lying down and Keris was examining her staff. Shann noticed that whenever they stopped, the woman always seemed to check her equipment. She was almost pathological about it. Shann looked around for Alondo but could not see him. Then she saw him climbing the terrace. Lyall spotted him at the same moment and put a hand to his mouth. "Don't go too far." Alondo waved to them by way of response.

All of a sudden, Shann felt a low vibration. At first it was almost subliminal, causing her to conclude that she must be imagining it. Then it rapidly grew in intensity. Ground tremor? She saw Keris get to her feet, knees bent, eyes casting about wildly for the source.

The ground shook under them as a massive shape broke the surface of the fissure and reared up over their heads. An ear splitting roar shook the air. A living grey nightmare of scale, tooth and claw. Piercing red rimmed eyes. Neck frills flared. Flattened head split by an immense jaw which snapped at everything that moved. The Kharthrun Serpent.

The towering titan twisted with terrifying agility, massive maw darting towards the terraced area. Shann felt as if her legs were rooted to the spot. A small voice somewhere in the back of her mind was clamouring, screaming for attention. Alondo. Cut off from the other side of the fissure. She could not see him. The serpent drew back for a further strike and she spotted him. Knocked down. On his back. Hands and feet scrabbling against the rock behind him, desperately trying to get away.

Lyall was yelling at him, "Use the vortex arm." Shann could not tell whether Alondo heard him or not, but he brought his instrument to bear, fumbled an adjustment and struck the strings. A powerful torus rippled outwards and struck the gargantuan beast, knocking it backwards slightly. It split the air again with a primeval bellow of pure hatred.

"That won't hold it," Keris warned.

Lyall's gaze was still fixed on the creature. "No, but it might buy us some time." He grabbed Shann by the arm. "The flying cloaks." They ran back to where they had dropped their packs. Shann pulled out the cloak, shaking it free, and fastened the neck clasps. Her mind reeled. What can we do against that thing?

Boxx had rolled itself up–a segmented ball of impenetrable chitin. At least you are safe.

Keris backed away, staff held in a defensive posture, covering their retreat. She reached the position where Shann and Lyall waited, black cloaks now draped over their shoulders.

Keris shot a glance at Lyall. "Alondo is The Fool."

Lyall nodded. "Agreed."

"Mannatar gambit?"

"Risky," Lyall returned.

"Do you have an alternative?"

"No."

"Then it's decided," Keris declared with finality. A succession of waves from Alondo's vortex arm washed over the serpent, causing it to sway its head back and forth. How much longer can Alondo hold out? "I am the mannatar; you are the dagger. The girl will have to provide you with a lodestone base line.

"You taught her co-operative mechanics?"

"No, of course not." Keris faced Lyall's questioning look and sighed. "The girl has no more than a simple grasp of the basics. Besides, she seems to have a...resistance to learning from me." Lyall cursed under his breath. "I am the mannatar," she reminded him. "Make haste." She ran forward, flared her cloak and leapt into the air.

Shann's mind whirled in confusion. "Wha– What is she talking about?"

Lyall's attention was fixed on Keris as she engaged the serpent with a swift mid-air thrust. Her diamond blade was deflected by the creature's thick overlapping scales. It whipped its immense head around and snapped at the empty space where Keris had been only moments before. "It's shassatan."

Shann was even more confused than ever. "The board game?"

"That's right. Keltar use it to teach tactical thinking and as a form of shorthand–a kind of code."

Shann's heart stopped as she watched Keris twist in the air, narrowly avoiding the clashing jaws once more. The woman dropped to the ground, whirling her staff in a complex pattern. Backing away, she reached her hand into her pouch, extracting a small silver sphere. One of the precious lodestone grenades. She gave it a half twist and tossed it towards the creature. There was a low whine which rose in pitch, culminating in a blinding flash and the sound of detonation. The creature swayed as if disoriented. "B-but I've never played it."

"Then this will have to be a quick lesson." Lyall spoke rapidly. "In shassatan, each of the pieces is assigned a role which determines its relative strength and movement. Some roles are given; others may be chosen according to need. Keris has selected 'the mannatar,' named after a crane fly, an insect that stings repeatedly. It's a distraction tactic. Whilst Keris is keeping the serpent occupied, we need to attack one of its vulnerable spots."

Shann wanted to say that she couldn't see where it had any vulnerable spots, but she shoved the thought aside. "What do you want me to do?"

"We have to work together. It's called 'co-operative mechanics.' For example, if we leap together using a natural deposit, and I get above you, I can use the upper lodestone layer of your cloak to propel myself higher and farther. That will enable me to leap high enough to reach the other side of the fissure."

"Wouldn't that knock me to the ground?"

"That's right, Shann. Action–reaction. But you should be able to use the natural deposit to brake your fall somewhat."

Somewhat. Shann wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. But the others were under imminent threat. There was no choice. She pursed her lips. "Let's do it."

Keris had set off two more grenades. With a throw of some skill and accuracy, she managed to pitch one of them into the serpent's gaping mouth as it clamped shut. Smoke was ejected from the nostrils on top of its head, but it seemed otherwise unharmed.

Shann and Lyall trotted forward, cloaks extended, searching for lodestone. Immediately, the Kharthrun Serpent reacted to their movement, lunging towards them. A monstrous head filled Shann's field of vision, nostrils flared, neck ridges rippling, shining crimson eyes set in an angular skull. Hot breath washed over her like an imprecation. Lyall threw himself to the ground. Shann was forced to dive to one side, rolling away. She sprang to her feet. The serpent had pulled away and was thrashing around with a bestial rage. She saw a figure tossed in to the air like a rag doll. It came to rest; a broken heap, dark against the pure white stone. Shann felt a sick feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. Alondo.

Keris discharged her last two grenades. Then she shot into the air once more, launching forth a battering series of blows, driving the diamond blade between its thick scales. The dark haired woman was now battling the creature alone. Baiting it. Drawing it to her. We have to act now.

Shann's hand moved to the cloak's control mechanism, feeling the push of lodestone a little to her left. She shouted at Lyall, "Over here." She ran towards the spot, Lyall only a few steps behind her. Bending her legs, she launched herself skyward. As she rose into the air she saw that Lyall was already above her. A sudden crushing pressure. It felt as if a giant foot had stamped on her back. The ground hurtled up to meet her. She landed on her side, knocking the breath out of her.

Pain lanced through her chest as her lungs fought for air. Shann struggled to her feet and looked up. Lyall was on the other side of the chasm, standing over the supine form that was Alondo. The serpent flexed its huge neck, knocking Keris to one side. She tumbled away across the rock surface. The leviathan towered over the tiny figures of the Kelanni. Shann watched as it fixed its malevolent gaze and made a vicious strike–directly at her.

Lyall cried out a warning from the opposite side of the fissure. "Shann!" Instinctively she held her staff in front of her with both hands. A clawed arm reached out and caught her a glancing blow. Crack. Her darkwood staff split in the middle, and she was sent sprawling. The splintered sections of her staff skittered away.

Three more explosions. As Shann oriented herself once more, she saw a vision of Lyall perched on the head of the creature from the Pits, stabbing and slashing furiously with his staff. Gripped with horror, she watched as the beast flicked its head and caught Lyall in its massive jaws. In an instant, it turned and disappeared into the fissure with a final whip of its tail, dragging Lyall's body down into the night-filled depths.

Chapter 24

Keris stood with her staff at the ready, straining her ears for subterranean vibrations–any clue that might presage the serpent's return. As the silence persisted, she permitted herself the luxury of a brief self-examination. Her mouth tasted like ashes. Her body complained of various lacerations and contusions and what she suspected might be a broken finger. The pack she carried contained an analgesic plant that might provide some relief; for now, such minor injuries were beneath her notice.

She surveyed the aftermath of the conflict. Boxx had unfurled itself from its defensive ball and appeared unscathed. The girl was holding her side awkwardly, but she was on her feet and was alert and responsive. That left Alondo. Keris ran to the other side of the fissure and scrambled up the terrace to where the musician lay. She dropped to one knee, checking for signs of life. One side of his face was covered in white blood, drying rapidly in the volcanic heat. There was no rise and fall of his chest. His eyes were closed. He was not moving.

"Boxx," Keris yelled across the gap. The girl appeared over her, still clutching her side and breathing a little heavily. In her free hand, she held Lyall's staff.

"Keris–" she began.

"Don't try to move him," Keris shot back, a little too sharply. "Boxx," she called again.

The Chandara arrived and lifted itself up on its hind limbs, looking at her expectantly. Keris indicated Alondo. "Can you do anything for him?"

The Chandara looked down at Alondo with its bead like eyes. "I Can Try To Do Anything." It touched Alondo's temple with the three fingers of its upper forelimb. It closed its eyes and its mouth rippled soundlessly.

"Keris–" Shann's voice was insistent.

"I'll get to you in a moment," Keris snapped back. You are not seriously injured –be patient.

After a short while, Alondo's chest rose slightly and Keris heard a faint rattle in the musician's throat. She allowed herself to breathe once more. Wearily, she got to her feet and made her way back to where her pack lay. The girl came after her, grabbing her arm, pulling her round.

Shann looked small. Her eyes were puffy where she had been crying. "What about Lyall?"

Keris softened a little. "I'm sorry, child, he's gone."

"B-but we have to go after him," Shann pleaded.

"I'm afraid that's impossible."

Shann's body tensed. "We have to go after him now." She was holding Lyall's staff in an attack stance.

Keris ignored the veiled threat. Do I have to spell it out for you, girl? "Look, we can't stay here. That thing may come back at any time. If it does, none of us may survive. Lyall is lost to us. We have to go on without him." Keris turned on her heel, without waiting for a response.

"No!" The word strangled in Shann's throat.

Keris sensed a movement behind her, the whoosh of a diamond bladed staff. I don't have time for this. In a single movement, she thrust her own staff backwards and hooked it, slicing the girl's legs from under her. She turned around to see Shann lying on her back, her face a mask of pain and frustration. The older woman's eyes blazed. "I will not fight you."

Shann got to her feet and stumbled off, heaving sobs wracking her diminutive frame. Let her go.

~

She was thin. Scrawny, some might say. Tall for her age, with long dark hair that ran down her back in waves. Pretty, in a severe kind of way. And with the heart of an utharan mammoth, according to her father.

The smaller children came running up to her. They pulled at her coat, her sleeves. "Keris. Look, it's Keris. Keris will help us. Yes. Yes." A little boy was pushed to the front. He was blond, podgy, with a gap in his front teeth. "A boy took Alerain's spinner. Will you get it back for us? Keris will get it back. Will you? Please?"

She was dragged along to where a big-boned boy with close cropped, dark hair sat on the ground playing with the spinner. Behind him, the Dagmar tower rose above the manse like a finger pointed at the sky. "Give it back," she ordered.

The boy looked her up and down and laughed unpleasantly. "And who will make me? You?" Keris stood her ground. The boy's smile disappeared in an instant and he rose to his feet. "Why don't you just try and take it off me?" She flew at him, pummelling him with her bony fists and kicking at him with her long legs. "Give...it...back."

The boy staggered backwards, raising his arms protectively. His face creased up. "I'm telling my mother." She watched his receding back. Then she picked up the discarded spinner.

The little children were cheering and jumping for joy. "She did it. Keris did it. Keris is our leader. Keris is our leader."

Keris is our leader. The older Keris sat with the flying cloak covering her shoulders, keeping night watch, deep in the Fire Pits of Kharthrun. I never wanted that. But then someone had to be there to right wrongs, to protect the weak. Then as now, she was a prisoner of who and what she was.

The girl had returned to their makeshift camp later that evening. She sat on her own and turned away every time Keris looked at her. Shann needed to reach out to someone, but it was not going to be Keris, that much was clear. Boxx was preoccupied with his ministrations, and Alondo only drifted into consciousness for brief periods. So the girl was left to wrestle with her grief alone.

"Wh-what happened?" Alondo had asked with his eyes still closed.

Keris was stone faced. "The Kharthrun Serpent. It's gone now."

"Lyall?"

"We lost him. I'm sorry."

Alondo's head moved from side to side slowly. He pressed his eyes together. "Where's Shann?"

"She's fine." It was a lie, but the truth was an added burden he didn't need right now.

Boxx stood up on its hind legs and faced Keris. "Alondo Must Sleep. Alondo Must Heal."

Keris nodded at the Chandara and stood up. "How long?"

"Alondo Must Heal," it repeated.

Keris took the hint and left. She had not discounted the possibility that if the creature attacked again, they might be forced to try to move Alondo, despite Boxx's protestations. Or they might have to abandon him altogether. These were decisions she would really rather not have to make. I never wanted this.

She sat hunched in the flying cloak, burdens weighing on her shoulders like great black birds. Mists drifted over the flat ground. With an effort, she got to her feet and went to her pack. As soon as she opened it, she knew something was wrong. The small oil lamp she carried–it was gone. She rummaged around in the pack. There was no mistake. A wild thought occurred to her. She hurried over to the place where Shann slept. The blanket lay empty and discarded. The girl was gone. So were Lyall's weapon and the pieces of her broken staff. Keris' heart sank. You've gone after him. You brave, stupid girl.

~

Using the blades of her broken staff as pitons, Shann eased herself down the steep sides of the fissure. Her boots sought toe holds in the rock face. She regretted leaving Alondo, but right now, Boxx could do far more for him than she could. Besides, he would want me to do this. He would want me to save Lyall.

It was up to her. Keris was not going to do anything; in fact it probably suited her purpose to assume that Lyall was dead. That way, she could take charge by default. Not while I'm still alive.

How far this chasm went down, she did not know. The passage was curved slightly, so that light from the entrance above was gradually occluded. Soon, she found she was descending in a gathering crimson dusk. The thought of returning to the surface occurred to her briefly but she dismissed it just as quickly. He needs me.

Shann drove the diamond blades into any available crack or crevice. It was getting difficult to see. Her progress was slower now, as she made her way as much by touch as by sight. Her left side still grumbled from the injury sustained in the battle with the serpent. She gritted her teeth and ignored it. The volcanic heat was becoming oppressive, a steady updraft which washed past her like an exhalation. Beads of sweat began to roll down the side of her face and into her eyes. The odour of sulphur was becoming more persistent. She coughed once...twice. Her head was growing dizzy. Her left boot quested for a hold and found an irregularity. Her toe pressed home, and then slipped. Her sudden weight pulled one of her makeshift pitons free and she was falling backwards. Hot air rushed around and past her body. At last she struck solid ground and her tortured side gave one final angry cry of protest before everything went black.

~

The dark haired waif sat in the older woman's lap and sniffled. The older woman stroked her hair and the little girl grew quiet. The kitchen at the inn was warm and homely. The silver haired woman smelled of dough and spices.

A portly man in a blue apron stood over them both. His tail swished from side to side. "Shann–Shann, why did you worry us like that?"

The silver haired woman spoke on her behalf. "She fell out of a tree, Poltann, but she's all right now–aren't you?" Shann nodded, too choked yet to speak.

"The girl has no business climbing trees. It's enough that we have the responsibility of caring for her, Gallar. If her father were here–"

"Poltann..." Gallar rebuked him. "Shann has learned her lesson. She will not go climbing trees on her own again– will you?" Shann blinked away the tears and shook her head. Her short, unkempt hair framed an elfin face.

Poltann shook his head. "Look at her; there's nothing of her. She is small and weak for her age. I suppose we may be able to put her to work in the kitchen, but I really don't know what she will be good for."

"Shann will do her best, won't you?" Gallar soothed. The elfin face nodded once more.

Poltann ran his hand over his bald head, smoothing down hair that had long since departed. "The girl has to learn that she is frail, and that she can't just go climbing trees. One day she'll attempt something like that and there won't be anyone there to rescue her. She has to accept that there are some things that she simply cannot do."

Shann gradually came to, with Poltann's words from all those years ago ringing in her ears. "There are some things you simply cannot do." No–I won't accept that. Her head felt muzzy and her hand went up to feel a lump on her forehead. Her side still hurt, but no worse than before. She must have been nearly at the bottom when she lost her footing and fell. Shann sat up. The wide shaft stretched away above her. The area around her was a faint circle, surrounded by darkness. The lamp. She found it and fumbled with the tinderbox. Yellow light erupted and pushed back the gloom. She was in a large cavern. Her breathing was laboured. The air was hot and tinged with sulphur. And there were sounds. Distant. Indistinct. Ominous. The beast could return at any moment. She got to her feet gingerly, holding the lamp aloft. The broken pieces of her staff lay nearby on the ground. She gathered them up and then began to explore her surroundings.

The rock floor was surprisingly smooth. She walked in what she judged to be a straight line. Soon the gradient began to incline upwards and she found herself facing a wall. Using the diamond blade on one of the broken pieces of her staff, she carved three intersecting circles into the rock–the Sign of The Three. Shann had never been particularly religious, especially having witnessed first-hand how the Kelanni faith had been corrupted under the Prophet's influence. However, she needed a mark that would be easily recognisable by her or any one of the others who might decide to come after her and that was the only sign she could think of. Her effort was crude, but effective.

Turning to her left, she followed the wall. Suddenly the wall disappeared into a dark recess–a passageway leading off from the chamber. Shann scrutinised the entrance. Too small. The serpent could not have passed that way. She continued on, moving along the wall, mapping out the cavern in her mind until she was back at the Sign of The Three, her starting point. There were five exits from the cave. Two of them would not have been large enough to allow the creature passage. That left three possible routes. Shann picked one at random and etched another Sign of The Three into the even rock face before heading away from the chamber.

It occurred to her that this subterranean maze could go on endlessly, but she had no choice but to press on. She followed the tunnel, lamplight reflecting back from the walls. After a short while, the walls began to narrow and the ceiling became lower. Not this way.

She doubled back to the large chamber and vigorously scrubbed out the mark she had made. Locating a second possible route, Shann made another mark and moved cautiously into the open passage. A steady current of warm air flowed past her. The lamp guttered. She turned the wick up a fraction before moving forward again. The gradient began to slope gently downwards. After a while, a large shadow on the right wall revealed an adjoining tube. The flow of air was still coming from directly ahead. Shann decided to ignore the side passage and continue on.

The way continued straight. Then her mind registered something odd–an irregularity in the floor. She had almost stepped into it. Shann stopped and leaned forward, rubbing the perspiration from her eyes with the back of her hand. A depression in the ground in front of her was filled with an orange-yellow glow, framed by a web of dark cracks. A lava pool. There was a ledge near the wall to one side, barely wide enough for her feet. Carefully she moved around the pool and tested the ledge with one boot. Slowly she began edging sideways along the rim. Heat rose from the molten rock within the pool, disturbing the surface so that it seemed to breathe like a living thing. A few more sidesteps and she was on the other side. She took a deep breath and resumed her progress.

After a short distance, the tube opened out into another sizeable chamber. She held the lamp aloft and peeked cautiously inside. The soft yellow illumination fell onto a huge shape within. The shape moved, scales scraping against bare rock. The Kharthrun Serpent. Panic rose momentarily in her breast. She extinguished the lamp, stepped back into the darkness and began to think. There was no safe way past the leviathan. More than that, she could not stay here. She had seen the speed at which it moved. If it came this way again, she would be crushed or worse. The side tunnel.

Shann retreated back down the passage, squeezing past the lava pool as quickly as she dared, and ducked back into the adjoining passage. She hunkered down and strained her ears to hear. A low growling sound. It was coming from behind her. She spun round. Half a dozen pairs of red eyes shone out of the pitch dark like steady flames. Shann sat on her haunches, transfixed, torn between the malevolent creatures before her and the gargantuan serpent behind. She made her decision.

Aarrrrgghh! Grabbing Lyall's staff, she made the fiercest, most guttural sound her throat could muster, and rushed the red-eyed beasts, whirling and slicing indiscriminately. Snarls turned rapidly to squeals. Bodies scuffled and collided with one another. Fiery eyes receded into the blackness.

As silence descended once more, Shann listened intently. After what seemed to be an age, she heard and felt a low rumble. Getting closer. Instinctively, she drew back farther into the side passage. The monstrous form of the serpent appeared in the main passageway. Shann watched as it passed directly in front of her. It felt as if her very bones were being shaken. She waited long after the creature's tail had flicked past and the rumbling had ceased completely, so that all she could hear was the hammering of her own heart.

Warily, she stepped back into the main passageway and headed for the second cavern once more. She checked behind her for any sign of the serpent's return, but there was none. Striking the tinderbox, she relit the lamp and examined the vacated chamber. There was something different about it. It was strewn with rocks. No, not rocks. Bones. Shann keened her senses and moved into the chamber. There was something that looked like a mound in the centre. As Shann approached, she saw a pile of bones topped by what looked like a clutch of leathery eggs. And there was something else. A dark shape. Her heart leapt and she hurried over. She saw a figure lying, wrapped in a black cloak with a shock of fair hair. Lyall.

Shann knelt and touched his face. It was warm. Relief washed over her. She placed her hand in front of his nose and felt a faint breath. Quickly, she pulled a flask of water from her belt. Turning him over gently, she put the flask to his lips. The water dribbled from the side of his mouth. His eyes squeezed together and then opened. He looked confused, as if unsure whether he was dreaming. "Shann...what happened?"

Shann whispered as if the beast might somehow overhear. "The serpent snatched you and dragged you down here. I came after you."

"Wh-where are we?"

"I'm not sure. It looks like some sort of nest. We must leave before it returns. Can you move?" Shann helped him to a sitting position.

He tried to stand, then winced and sat back. "My left leg...it feels like a fracture."

"Wait here." Shann got up and cast her eyes about the chamber. She sifted through the bleached skeletal remains, trying not to speculate what or who they might have come from. All of the pieces were broken or too small or not the right shape. Then she suddenly remembered her staff. She pulled the two halves of the broken staff from her belt. Yes. These should work.

Shann placed them beside Lyall and quickly began ripping strips from her own clothing. Then she lashed the broken staff pieces to either side of Lyall's leg to form a makeshift splint.

Lyall's brow was covered with perspiration and he looked pale. "You look as if you've done this before. I didn't know you had healing skills."

Shann smiled as she worked. "From time to time, Gal would treat travellers' injuries at the inn. Pretty soon she gained a reputation for it. She would let me watch and even help sometimes...There. Can you stand up now?" Lyall struggled up to stand on his good leg, using his staff as a crutch. "Don't put any pressure on it," she counselled.

Lyall looked about him. "Which way?"

Shann considered. Her plan, such as it was, had been to return the way she had come. It was obvious, however, that Lyall would not be able to make the climb out of the shaft in his present condition. They would have to find another route.

"How many exits do you think these caves have?" Shann asked.

"Probably several."

Shann recalled her descent into the fissure. "Air from the Fire Pits rises. If we follow the flow of air, then we should find a way out."

Lyall grimaced. "All right, let's see if we can find a way to the surface. After you."

Shann lifted the lamp and surveyed the chamber. She located two new passages. One seemed to have a stronger air current. "I think we should try this way." She waited for Lyall to hobble over. Then a thought struck her. "One moment." She made her way back to the nest and hefted one of the bones, raising it over her head.

"Shann, what are you doing?" Lyall called.

"I'm going to smash these eggs."

"No." Lyall declared firmly.

"But...why not?"

"Because the serpent is guilty of nothing except trying to survive, just as we are. We are the ones who invaded its domain. We should let it be."

Shann let his words sink in, lowering the bone harmlessly as she did so. Lyall had a unique way of looking at things. Yet she found herself agreeing with him. This creature, fearsome and terrible as it was, was not her enemy. It was an astounding creature that was itself part of a unique world that one individual was bent on destroying for his own ends. If she were to commit such a wanton act of destruction–revenge–would she not in fact be serving the very purpose of the person she most despised? Fortified with this insight, and a renewed sense of purpose, Shann, the little orphan girl from Corte, rose to her feet once more. "You're right. Let's go."

~

"I can't believe it. You mean to tell me that you let Shann go down there on her own?" Alondo was sitting up now, squinting in the early morning sunlight. His scarlet coat looked dusty and worn, but he was remarkably recovered, thanks to Boxx. And he was demanding answers.

Keris felt as if she were being accused of a crime she hadn't committed. "I did not 'let her go'. She went before anyone could stop her. She was...upset. I tried to reason with her that it was hopeless but she wouldn't listen. The next thing I knew, she had gone after Lyall on her own."

Boxx was sitting on its hind limbs, watching the exchange between the two Kelanni curiously. Alondo was not letting up on the interrogation. "How do you know she went underground? She might have just gone off somewhere."

"The girl took the lamp from my pack. Besides she was... determined. You know how she is when she gets that way; she doesn't listen to anyone." Keris was rapidly losing patience. "Look, every moment we stay here is dangerous. We have to leave. Boxx, can Alondo travel?"

The Chandara replied in its childish tone, "Alondo Can Travel."

"Then we must leave, now."

Alondo managed to stand with effort. He met her squarely. "I am not leaving them behind."

Boxx's eyes were like black beads, almost pleading. "The Key. You Cannot. You Must Not Leave Lyall And Shann. It Is The Key. It Is The Key."

Keris had no idea what the Chandara was babbling about, but she had no time for its ramblings. She gave a massive sigh. "All right then. We will get you and Boxx to a safe place. Then I will come back and go down there after her."

Alondo's fierce determination melted as quickly as it had arisen. "You are going alone?"

"Yes, well, acts of rank stupidity seem to be the norm for this group, don't they? Besides, you are in no condition to go."

"At least take Boxx with you," Alondo urged. "They might be injured. Boxx can help."

It made sense. Keris addressed the little creature. "Will you come with me to look for Shann?"

"I Will Come," it squeaked.

"Good. Then it's agreed. Let's pack up so that we can move Alondo somewhere safe." Keris turned away and hurriedly began assembling her gear. A shout. Alondo's voice. Keris reached instinctively for her staff, but even as she did so, a part of her registered that the shout was not one of alarm, but of something else. Elation? She looked to where Alondo was pointing. Out of the clouds of wafting steam and smoke a miracle was stumbling. It was unmistakably Lyall, his fair hair dishevelled and his clothes torn, supported by the tiny figure of Shann.

Keris ran towards them, then stopped several paces off, adopting her stoic stance, staff upright, expression drained of emotion. It was as if the arrival of Lyall and Shann had suddenly restored balance. Equilibrium. She was herself once more. Detached. In control. No more were people looking to her for leadership, demanding that she solve all of their problems. Keris stood apart from the celebrations, letting the outflow of feelings from the others wash over her like surf crashing against a granite coast and then ebbing to leave her intact. Secure. Indomitable.

Alondo had already covered the distance to Lyall and Shann, all thoughts of his lingering injuries forgotten. He was feeling their arms and their faces in an apparent effort to confirm that his eyes were not playing tricks. "Are you all right? How...how did you get out?"

Shann helped Lyall to a sitting position. Boxx was bobbing up and down. "It was all quite easy, really." Lyall touched his injured leg experimentally. "After Shann found me and I regained consciousness, we followed the air currents. Eventually we found a shaft with a fairly gentle incline and crawled our way to the surface. We heard the serpent, but never saw it again." He looked down at Shann. "I owe her my life." Shann looked down at the ground. Alondo was beaming at them both.

Keris continued to stand guard. Checking the perimeter. Watching over them like a parent, keeping children safe from their own foolishness.
Chapter 25

It was the most breathtaking sight that Shann had ever seen. It seemed to go on forever. Shades of crimson and azure blue, topped with myriads of whitecaps, stretched to the very horizon. Waves reared up, breaking against the shoreline. Flocks of birds swooped in and out of the surf, their shrieking cries drifting upwards to Shann's ears.

"The Aronak Sea," Alondo announced theatrically with a wave of his hand. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Shann's eyes were wide as dinner plates. "It seems to go on forever."

"Maybe it does," Lyall speculated. "Over there, some way below the horizon, lies The Great Barrier of Storms. If the sea extends beyond the Barrier, then who knows how far it goes?"

They were strolling down a chine which led through a meadow of yellow and purple grasses. Alondo was on Shann's left, with Lyall to her right. Keris and Boxx followed a little way behind.

The party's spirits were high. Keris had led them to a steep but navigable cut through the eastern wall of the canyon, so that they cleared the Pits in less than a day. Boxx had done an amazing job of treating everyone's injuries, although it pronounced itself extremely tired afterwards–the act of healing seemed to sap its energies. Lyall had even carried it for a while. It seemed fully recovered now, as it trotted next to Keris.

The change in the air was palpable. Instead of oppressive heat and sulphurous steam, there was fresh air and cool sea breezes. Shann was mesmerised by the immensity of the sea. She pointed at a distant shape moving over the water. "Is that...a ship?"

"It certainly is," Lyall declared. "Ships ply up and down the coast between Leota, Sakara and Kalath-Kar, as well as many of the smaller settlements. They carry everything from moba root to gold."

"We will be at Sakara by this time tomorrow," Keris announced from behind.

Alondo whipped his hat off and threw it into the air. "Whoo hoo!" He ran to retrieve his hat and settled it back on his head.

Shann chuckled. "You've been there before, I take it?"

Alondo nodded. "Lyall and I spent some time there a few years ago. It's probably my favourite place in all of Kelanni. You're going to love it."

Keris snorted. Shann, Lyall and Alondo all turned round to look at her. "It's a lawless place," she retorted, "a den of thieves and cutpurses."

"That is not true," Alondo countered, "the lawless part, I mean. They have very strict laws in Sakara. And the Asoli are always there to keep order."

"Asoli?" Shann enquired.

"Yes, they're the city watch. You'll notice them right off. They have green jackets and large plumed hats–almost as nice as mine." Alondo grinned expansively.

"The Asoli are the eyes and ears of the Guilds," Lyall explained, "The Guilds run the port city, and right now there's an uneasy peace between the Guild Master and the Prophet in Chalimar. The Keltar and the Prophet's soldiers could probably overrun Sakara and the lightly armed Asoli would not be able to do much about it, but holding on to the port would require a major investment of troops and resources that are currently being used to secure and refine the lodestone ore. So the Guilds pay a healthy stipend to the Prophet, in return for which they are largely left alone."

"The Asoli are a joke," Keris cut in. "Ask him what would happen if they saw someone steal your purse. Go ahead."

"Redistribution of wealth is legal in Sakara," Alondo returned, without waiting for the question.

Keris scowled. "Redistribution? You mean theft."

"Theft...commerce...it's all the same really." Shann looked puzzled. "Look," Alondo continued, "If I make something and sell it for more than it cost me to make, then that's a kind of stealing."

"That's profit, not stealing," Keris corrected.

"It all amounts to the same thing," Alondo shot back. "If Shann does a day's work for me and earns a quarter astria, but I only pay her an eighth, it's no different than if I went to her at the end of the day and stole the eighth from her. In Sakara the only difference is that they recognise all dishonesty for what it is and declare it to be legal. I have always found the fact that the Sakarans are so honest about their dishonesty to be quite refreshing."

Keris shook her head. "You're not even making any sense."

"Indeed," Lyall agreed, "That's all a part of his enduring charm."

"Why, thank you," Alondo removed his hat and bowed expansively. "Actually, theft, as you call it, is highly regulated by the Guilds, along with all forms of commerce. Stealing from children, the elderly or any vulnerable people is strictly forbidden, as are all forms of violence. No-one ever gets attacked in Sakara. I doubt the good citizens of Chalimar or Corte or Lind could say the same, especially when the Keltar pay a visit." He looked back at Keris pointedly.

"Keris is no longer Keltar," Lyall reminded him.

Alondo grinned from ear to ear. "Then she should love it in Sakara."

~

Shann sat by the fire with her arms wrapped around her knees, looking out to sea. Ail-Mazzoth's gentle light lent a tinge of pale pink to the breakers. The red sun sat low behind her in the western sky, dominating the night.

Alondo's silhouette approached and sat down beside her. They sat in silence for a while. Finally, the musician spoke. "Enjoying the view on your own?"

"Yes," she returned.

"Pretend I'm not here then."

Shann smiled as she felt the cool onshore breeze and smelled the freshness of the ocean. "I'd love to sail in a ship."

"Who are you talking to?"

"No-one," she replied innocently.

"I see." Alondo splayed his arms out behind him and stretched his legs out in front. The dune on which they were sitting was peppered with tufts of purple grass, running down to the beach. Small creatures scuttled across the wet sand, busy about their night errands. "Boxx says we are due to get another message day after tomorrow."

"Really?" She unclasped her arms and turned to stare at him, all thoughts of their little charade forgotten.

"Yes...well I'm pretty sure at any rate. You know what having a conversation with a Chandara is like. I ask it, 'What is the time of the next message from Annata?' And it says 'It Is The Time Of The Next Message,' or something like that and then we go round and round for a while and I ask again, 'How many days to the next message?' And it says 'Two,' so I say, 'You mean two days?' And it says, 'Two, Two, Two.'" He was doing a fair approximation of Boxx's thin, high squeak, and Shann was giggling uncontrollably. "Of course, it could have just been a Chandara mating call for all I know, but I think it was trying to tell us that we can expect the next communication soon."

"I wonder what Chandara mating habits are? Perhaps someone should ask it." Shann chuckled.

"I nominate you," Alondo countered. "Anyhow, we can't do much more till then, so Lyall has a surprise planned for tomorrow."

Shann's eyes grew round. "What is it?"

"Can't say. It's a secret." Shann looked at him doe eyed. "Well, all right, since you forced it out of me, we're having a celebration at an inn near the wharf, The Calandra.

Her eyes lit up, then her face fell almost immediately. "But...I haven't anything to wear."

"I wouldn't worry," Alondo confided, "It's not that kind of celebration."

"Oh," Shann responded, not entirely understanding his meaning. She grew quiet, as her main preoccupation pushed itself to the forefront of her thoughts yet again. "Alondo?"

"Yes?"

"What do we do if Annata doesn't contact us?"

"You have to have faith, Shann."

She sighed. "I'm afraid I've never been very religious."

"I wasn't talking about that kind of faith–although there is a place for that. I meant faith in the people around you, those you work with, who want the same things you do...like Keris." Alondo flashed a sideways glance as if he had thrown a ball and wanted to see if she would catch it.

Shann was staring out across the sea once more. "She would have left him to die."

"You mean Lyall?" Alondo followed her gaze out to sea as if he were seeking the same answers as she was. "Did you know that she was preparing to go down there with Boxx to get you when you two turned up?"

Shann felt the old resentment welling up inside her. This is Alondo. He thinks well of everyone. "I don't believe you."

"It's true, Shann. I was out of it, as you know. It was her idea to go after you. She was going to go alone. I persuaded her to take Boxx. Then you and Lyall appeared out of nowhere." He frowned. "You know, Keris was right. As Keltar, she is trained to think tactically in any action, to assess the odds. The odds said that Lyall should have been dead, that any attempt to rescue him would only put more lives at risk. However," he put his arm around her shoulder, "what she doesn't know–what you proved –is that sometimes, love and friendship can beat the odds."

A tear rolled down Shann's cheek as they sat in silence together, listening to the gentle soughing of the dimly sunlit sea.

~

Sakara. A heady perfume of salt, sweat and spice. The creaking of masts. The gentle lapping of water against the quayside. Gundir barking. Children chasing each other through a maze of oddly shaped crates. Weather-worn sailors and thieves jostling with noble women and grandees. Gaudy merchants proffering exotic articles from beneath the shelter of brightly coloured awnings. Birds wheeling overhead, squabbling for scraps. Shann's senses were overcome by the rush of sensations. Sakara was Life–raw, unalloyed, unpretentious.

The party strolled across the wharf. Barques and luggers were laid to, side by side, their masts crammed together like an offshore forest. Alondo took in the scene with a sweep of his hand. "Well," he grinned at Shann, "what do you think?"

"It's...amazing," she replied honestly. She pointed to a tall figure in a green jacket and large plumed hat, who seemed to be watching over the goings on at the docks like a hungry perridon. "Is that one of them?"

"One of the Asoli, yes," Alondo affirmed. "Don't worry. They won't bother anyone unless they spot an infraction of the commerce laws."

Keris had been watching over Boxx, fending off the prying looks of onlookers with her own fierce stare. The curiosity seekers scurried away, suddenly recalling some life or death errand. She turned to Lyall anxiously. "I'm not sure this place is safe for Boxx."

Lyall regarded the Chandara, who was standing on its hind limbs, watching the hustle and bustle with its head cocked to one side. "I'm sure it will be fine. People are bound to be inquisitive–the overwhelming majority will never have seen a Chandara before. But remember, all forms of violence are strictly forbidden here. Besides, this is a very cosmopolitan city. Folk are used to sights that are out of the ordinary."

"Kelanni Live Close Here. Like Chandara In The Great Tree." Boxx's chirping voice sounded wistful, homesick.

Lyall bent down to address the creature directly. "Boxx, how many days till the next message from Annata?"

"One," it responded confidently.

Lyall drew himself erect again, "Well we can't do much until then. So later on, after some sightseeing, I thought we might make a night of it."

"At the Calandra," Shann finished.

Lyall's eyes narrowed. He looked from Shann to Alondo and back again. "Yes, at the Calandra. I see our musician friend's tongue has been wagging again."

"She forced it out of me," Alondo pleaded.

"I'm sure she did." Lyall's face was serious, but his blue eyes had a twinkle in them.

Keris' forehead was creased. "I assume that is a drinking establishment? I think we should avoid doing anything to attract attention to ourselves. In any case, I don't drink; neither does Boxx. And the girl is too young."

Shann shot the older woman a look of pure resentment. Fortunately, Lyall cut in before she could respond. "Nonsense. If she is old enough to save my life, then she's old enough for a mug of horge. As for Boxx, it might enjoy liquor for all we know. I don't recall anyone having asked it. You are welcome to come with us. You can drink plain water if you like and make sure we don't embarrass ourselves too much."

Shann felt a wicked sense of satisfaction at seeing Keris put in her place. Whatever tomorrow held in store, she was going to enjoy this evening. Perhaps it's time for a new outfit, after all? Smiling brightly, she hooked her arm into Alondo's and led him off towards the brightly coloured stalls.

~

The Calandra was set in an imposing four storey terrace, fronting the wharf area. Shann had learned that Calandra was the name of a famous ship, captained by a certain Arval, who seemed to have more stories, exploits, anecdotes and downright tall tales attributed to him than any person could reasonably accomplish in a single lifetime. Shann was seriously coming to doubt whether such an individual had ever really existed, but his ship was depicted on a large board outside the inn's entrance, as if testifying to the truth of the claims.

The inside of the Calandra was big, much bigger than the Wayfarer in Corte. The spacious seating area had an air of flamboyance and frippery that was in stark contrast to the plainness and austerity of hostelries within the Prophet's area of influence. Ornate bronze lamps set in rich wood panelling cast a warm glow over the eclectic mix of patrons. Waitresses in blue cote-hardies sailed between tables like carracks in full sail, balancing trays piled with plates of food and steaming mugs of horge. The noise level was pleasantly rowdy.

The party were bivouacked at a corner table–Keris had insisted. The dark haired woman sat in her traditional dark colours with her back to the wall, eyes flicking from one individual to another. She looked as if she were picking out targets. Shann was dressed in a light blue gown, drawn in at the waist and swept to the floor. It was the prettiest, most impractical and easily the most expensive garment she had ever worn in her life. Alondo was seated next to Shann, his crimson suit and hat now cleaned and pressed. He whispered in her ear every so often, sending the girl into fits of giggles. Boxx was perched on a stool next to Keris, sipping from a mug of horge. As it quaffed, its mouth rippled in a way that Shann found hysterically funny.

Lyall was on a stool next to Alondo, cradling the mug before him, looking quite contented. He had purchased a magnificent black and white outfit for the occasion, trimmed with gold and silver brocade, which drew admiring glances from staff and patrons alike. He could easily have been taken for a highborn noble. What is your background? Where do you come from? Even after so many days of living, working and battling together, Shann realised that she still knew next to nothing about Lyall's origins. He seemed to have a talent for avoiding the subject.

The table was becoming increasingly messy, with spills of horge, discarded plates and scattered scraps of food. A waitress with a delicate chin and fair hair that cascaded about her shoulders appeared, deftly sweeping away the leftovers and empty mugs and replacing them with fresh mugs of the steaming brew. Shann whooped with delight and took a decidedly unladylike swig. The waitress regarded Alondo coquettishly before moving on to the next table.

Shann's eyes widened. She snickered into Alondo's ear, "I think she likes you."

"You mean Gianna?" Alondo whispered, "Never seen her before."

Shann slapped him playfully on the shoulder. Her eyes alighted on the table next to them. It was empty, save for a cross shaped board with stone pieces mounted on it. She clapped her hands. "Look, sassatan."

"Shassatan," Lyall corrected. "Do you play, Keris?"

The older woman's eyes narrowed. "It is a required part of training at the keep; you know that."

"Perhaps you should ask someone for a game?" Lyall suggested.

Keris huffed, "I seriously doubt whether anyone in this establishment could give me a worthwhile game."

Shann was wriggling on her stool. "Ooooh, let me play. I want to learn, pleeease?"

"We're not having you play Keris," Lyall ruled. "There'd be blood on the board."

"I'll play." All eyes turned to Alondo.

"You?" Keris had an expression as if she had just detected a foul odour. "What do you know of tactics?"

"Nothing, really, I suppose."

"Have you even played the game before?" Keris sounded exasperated.

"Once or twice...I think."

Keris waved a dismissive hand. "You wouldn't stand a chance."

"Winning isn't everything,"

Keris looked as if he had just said something blasphemous. "Of course it is."

Alondo shrugged. "If you say so. Shall we play?"

There was a scraping of stools against floorboards as they all stood up and transferred to the shassatan table. Boxx hopped down from its perch and climbed onto a stool next to Keris, leaning over the board as if it were studying it. "You Move, They Move, You Win."

"That's the general idea," Keris concurred. They selected the placement of their pieces on the board: red for Alondo, yellow for Keris. "Would you like a handicap?" she offered.

"Oh...no, I don't think so."

"Very well," she motioned to Alondo. "After you."

"Why, thank you." Alondo bowed his head formally. His hand hovered over a red piece. "This is The Fool," he announced. He paused uncertainly. "Does The Fool move two spaces or three?"

"Three," Keris' impatience was starting to show through. "Do you need me to go over the rules?"

"Er, no...no. I'm sure it will all come back to me as we play." He moved the piece the required number of spaces, then twirled it between his fingers as if trying to make up his mind. "Northern...er, no sorry, Eastern orientation."

Keris picked up a yellow piece, holding it between thumb and forefinger. "The Door," she declared, looking at Alondo as if she were instructing a small child. She moved it four spaces towards the centre of the board and turned it so that it faced sideways. "West."

Shann's horge-soaked brain was confused. She turned to Lyall. "All the pieces look the same."

"That's right. Shassatan involves memory skills as well as tactical and positional training. You have to remember your pieces' designation, as well as those of your opponent. Certain strategies can even alter a piece's designation during a game. Also you notice that at the end of each move, every piece is given a 'facing', which raises its defence rating on that side."

Shann blinked. "It sounds really complicated."

Lyall laughed. "Oh, this is nothing. Shassatan can be played by up to four players. Imagine trying to keep that lot in your head. A full game is normally played with twenty-one pieces a side, but the number of starting pieces isn't fixed. Beginners usually start with four of five pieces a side and build up from there. You can also have unequal starting numbers, where an experienced player will agree to start with less pieces to even up the game. That's called a handicap.

"What makes the game so fascinating, is that with the number of different possible designations of pieces and the various combinations of strategies between them, the possibilities are virtually endless. No two games are ever alike."

Pieces were being thinned out as they were moved across the board. Both sides of the table were littered with those captured or sacrificed. A subtle change in the players was also taking place. Alondo's moves were becoming faster and more confident. Keris, on the other hand, was hesitating more, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Shann cupped her hand to Lyall's ear. "When does it end?" she whispered.

"When one side or the other no longer has the right pieces to form a strategy, they cannot win," Lyall confided. At that point 'Kada-Lorran' is declared." He registered her puzzled expression. "It means 'victory and defeat.'"

"Ah..." she acknowledged, adding, "Who do you think will win?"

Lyall's eyes were smiling a secret smile. "Wait and see."

Keris seemed paralysed by indecision. Finally, she moved two pieces so that they were adjacent to a third.

"Facing?" Alondo asked.

"Oh, er...North," she replied distractedly.

Alondo smiled his sweetest smile, went to a piece immediately and moved it ten spaces into the centre of the board. Still smiling, he turned it. "South." Keris was staring at the board intently. "Did I make a wrong move?" he asked innocently.

"What? No...no..." her voice trailed off.

"I think your Wheel is threatened," he suggested, helpfully.

"Yes, I see that, thank you."

Shann's face was buried in Lyall's shoulder. She was stuffing the brocade on the lapel of his jacket into her mouth to try and suppress her laughter. Her small body shook with the effort.

Keris shot her a look of irritation. She turned back to Alondo, her voice formal. "Lorran."

"Kada." He announced with a mock version of her formality. He stood up from his stool and bowed. "Thanks for the game. I could give you a handicap next time, if you like?"

Shann finally lost control. She released Lyall, doubling up in fits of raucous laughter, drawing attention from nearby tables.

Keris ignored her with some effort. "You deceived me," she accused Alondo.

Alondo's eyes widened. His hands moved to his chest in a gesture of injured innocence. "Me?"

"You led me to believe you were less experienced than you are."

Lyall moved to intervene. "Well, I'm surprised a trained investigator couldn't spot the clues." He ticked off his fingers one by one. "First, he's a genius. Second, he's a musician by trade. Where do you think musicians spend most of their time?"

"Playing in inns and public houses," Keris acknowledged.

"Exactly."

"So the two of you set me up?"

"Only in fun...and as a way of helping you to relax. After all, he did give you a challenging game."

Keris appeared mollified by Lyall's explanation. She rose from her stool and formally returned Alondo's bow. "Thank you. I look forward to our next encounter."

Shann had her arm around Alondo's shoulder. Good friends. Good food. Good company. She could not remember a time in her life when she had felt so contented. "How about another drink?" she suggested amiably.

Far off in another corner of the Calandra, a figure in a black and red tunic and black trousers sat alone at a table half in shadow, watching the party surreptitiously. As he raised his mug to his lips, a ring was visible on his index finger, bronze and set with a single stone of the deepest ebony.
Chapter 26

Shann awoke the next morning feeling muzzy-headed. They had secured two rooms at the Calandra, one for Lyall and Alondo and one for her and Keris. Boxx had naturally accompanied Keris and no-one had argued the point.

As she came to and struggled to focus, she quickly realised that Keris and Boxx were gone. She was alone. Like everything else at the Calandra, the bed was soft and sumptuous–not at all what she was used to, but highly pleasant for all that. She was sorely tempted to turn over and go back to sleep, but the light level told her that it was well past the time for her to rise. Besides, she was curious as to what the others were up to.

Reluctantly, she pushed back the covers and padded across the wooden floor to a side table where a basin of fresh water stood. The rush of cold water on her face brought her to full wakefulness. She found some clean clothes in a dresser and slipped out into the corridor. Going to the door of the adjacent room, she knocked lightly. The door opened and she was gratified to see Alondo's round face.

He beamed at her. "We thought you were going to sleep all day." He opened the door fully and beckoned her inside. Lyall and Keris stood to one side, watching Boxx. The Chandara had the machine from the past set up in the middle of the floor. Light reflected off the gold and silver coloured workings, but the device was otherwise inactive. Shann and Alondo took up a place on the other side of Boxx.

Lyall looked up. He seemed pleased to see her. "How are you this morning?"

Shann was still feeling a little fragile. She realised she probably needed some food inside her, but that would have to wait. "I'm fine. What is Boxx up to? "

"You got here just in time," Lyall informed her. He was wearing a rustic brown tunic and trousers, in sharp contrast with his ostentatious outfit of the previous evening. "Boxx says that Annata is due to contact us shortly."

"She will expect us to be on the other side of the world by now," Keris reminded them. "We are going to have to break the news that the tower was destroyed."

"Do you think there is another way to get there?" Shann asked.

Keris was looking tired and anxious. Her hair was uncombed. "Let's hope she knows of one. And that we are not already too late." Was she being genuine? Or was she merely saying what she thought they wanted to hear? She remembered what Lyall had said about the difficult journey that both she and Keris were on. Lyall had been prepared to give her a second chance, but in doing so, he had chosen a dangerous path for everyone. It was a second chance for her to betray them all. She claimed that she had turned against her overseer and left him dead in the Gilah, but there was no way of verifying that–they only had her word. One persistent thought kept nagging at the back of her mind–Keltar do not turn against the Prophet.

Then there was Boxx. In some ways, its role in all of this was just as much of a mystery. Chandara do not lie; Lyall had said as much. Deep down, Shann believed that to be true. But could it be deceived? Was it possible that the Keltar had somehow run across Boxx and the machine from the past and had seen an opportunity to use the situation for her own ends?

Shann could not help but think back to last evening's game of shassatan. During their epic journey together, moves had been made; gambits employed; strategies followed. Now was the decisive point. Kada-Lorran. Victory or Defeat. It all comes down to this.

"It Is Time." Boxx's announcement brought a deathly silence to the room. Shann hardly dared to breathe. The Chandara stretched forth its left middle forelimb and touched the panel set into the mechanism's circular base. It did so again. And a third time. Nothing. No gentle hum emanated from the delicate components. The row of lights remained stubbornly dull. It was for all intents and purposes dead.

Broken. She broke it after all. Shann was filled with despair and disgust. She fired a look at Keris, but the older woman was looking intensely at the scene in the middle of the room and did not notice, or pretended not to.

Alondo had moved to Boxx's side and was on his haunches, inspecting the device. His hand touched a part of the inner apparatus, then went to his chin.

"Well?" Lyall finally broke the silence.

Alondo was continuing to stare into the unfathomable mix of brightly coloured parts. "All I can say for sure is that there is still no power getting to the unit. Whether that is due to the earlier damage, or the fact that no power is being transferred to it, I just don't know. I'm sorry."

A pall had settled over the gathering. Finally Lyall drew himself erect and spoke to no-one in particular. "Well, it seems we have some thinking to do–and I for one don't think well on an empty stomach. I am going to order up breakfast. I want everyone downstairs as soon as it's ready." His tone brooked no argument.

The group slowly dispersed, each one to their own private room of dejection.

~

The table at the back of the Inn was laden with a sumptuous repast of flatbreads, sweetmeats and an amazing variety of fruits, both dried and fresh. At any other time, Shann would have happily piled her platter high and ate her fill. Yet now she was doing little more than picking at the seeds on a pastry or rolling a janaberry around on her plate. The others were showing scarcely more of an appetite than her. Only Boxx seemed unaffected as it munched a yellow fruit contentedly with its eyes closed. She envied the little creature. The little girl in her resented the thought of all that food going to waste. Maybe later.

Lyall was seated at the head of the table; his eyes rested on each of them in turn. When he reached Shann, she met his look and smiled encouragingly. She did not want to let him down, although she was not sure what any of them was supposed to do now.

Finally he began, "I can appreciate that you are all disappointed. We made the journey here in the hope that Annata would contact us and tell us how we might cross the Great Barrier. However, for whatever reason, it seems she has been unable to do so. She told us before that she had devoted her life to the salvation of the Kelanni of our time. I believe that she is even now doing everything she can to get through to us. In the meantime, we must continue to do our part." He paused as if waiting for a response, but no-one spoke. He tied the threads of his purpose into a single knot. "We must cross the Great Barrier ourselves."

Keris who was seated to his left, lifted her head from her empty plate. "And how do you propose that we do that?"

Lyall smiled enigmatically. "I was hoping that you were going to tell me."

Alondo smiled back from the seat on his right. "I thought jokes were my speciality."

"I mean it." Lyall leaned back on his stool and spread both hands wide. "Look, The Great Barrier of Storms lies over there," he pointed vaguely towards the front of the inn, "just across the Aronak Sea. All we need to do is cross it."

"None of us knows how to sail a vessel," Alondo pointed out.

"It doesn't matter." Keris was staring down at her plate once more. "The storms are impenetrable. Any ship that approaches would have its sails torn to shreds. If it strikes sail, it would have no way to push against the massive winds. At best it would be blown back to this side; at worst it would be swamped and capsize. There is no way through."

Keris' summary was like a funeral oration. Silence descended once again. Then, as if out of nowhere, the merest suggestion appeared at the back of Shann's mind. Something Keris had just said. She scrabbled around in the junk room of her memories, as if desperately searching for a lost volume. Her hand closed around a book and she picked it up. There was a single word on the cover. Push.

"Maybe we could use lodestone?" she heard herself say. She looked around and saw that her companions were all staring at her.

"How do you mean, Shann?" Lyall asked in a kindly voice.

Shann swallowed. She was now the centre of attention. The idea was still taking shape in her mind, and she was concerned that she might sound foolish. She gathered her wits and addressed Lyall directly, as if the others were not there. "The...the training stones you showed me at the farmhouse–do you still have them?"

Lyall reached down to his belt and produced a small pouch, handing it across the table to Shann. "There you go."

Shann hastily rearranged and stacked plates and mugs until she had a clear section of table in front of her. Then she untied the string at the neck of the pouch and peeked inside, selecting two stones; one white, one black. The black stone resisted her pull slightly. She set the white disc on the table and the black one next to it. Immediately, the two discs began to move in the direction of the white disc until both dropped off the end of the tabletop. She bent down to pick them up, and held up the white disc between her thumb and forefinger. "Say the white stone is our ship." She held the black disc in her other hand. "We could use lodestone to push it from behind using ...a barge or something."

Keris had an expression of rapt attention. "Intriguing." Then she added, "A pity we couldn't actually do it."

Shann felt instantly deflated. "Why not?"

Lyall cut in. "I'm afraid I'd have to agree with Keris. Your idea is fine in theory, Shann. Unfortunately though, a ship, even a relatively small ship, weighs a lot. It would take a lot of lodestone to push it–far more than we could possibly lay our hands on. If we had unlimited time and resources then maybe it would be possible, but we don't. Still," he beamed at her warmly, "it was a great suggestion."

Basking in his smile of approval, she felt herself blossom once more. However, the fact remained that they were no further forward.

Boxx was still enjoying the fruit and seemed not to be paying any attention. Suddenly it raised its head. Juice was running from the corners of its mouth, lending it a comical appearance. "It Is A Boundary."

Lyall had a bemused expression. "In a way, yes."

"A Boundary Between Here And There."

"Boxx is right," Lyall declared. "Any boundary can be crossed. We just need to figure out a way." He pursed his lips for a moment. "All right, let's approach this from a different angle. Is there any instance of anyone ever successfully traversing the Barrier? "

"I know of one." It was Alondo.

"You do?" Keris asked incredulously.

Alondo nodded, "Uh-huh. Captain Arval is said to have crossed it once."

"Captain Arval?" Keris turned away dismissively. "You mean one of those ridiculous stories."

"Stories are a part of Kelanni culture," Alondo maintained. "They also happen to be a valuable source of inspiration for songs, so I always pay attention to them. I have found that in among the exaggerated claims, there is more often than not, a grain of truth."

Lyall leaned forward on his stool. "Go ahead, Alondo. Tell us the story."

Alondo glanced in Keris' direction. "The legend says that Arval was offered a great sum of money by the Lord of Kalath-Kar to determine what lay beyond the Barrier. He travelled to the Isle of Panna. There he captured and tamed three giant perridons. He tethered them to the bow of his ship and used them to pull it through the tempests."

Shann was intrigued. "What happened?"

"Well this is where the account starts to get a little strange. It says they were 'brought forth into a land of darkest dark, where the sky is bright but there are no suns.'"

"What does that mean?" Shann asked.

Alondo shook his head. "I have no idea. However, it goes on to tell of how the crew of the Calandra were terrified and on the brink of mutiny. Arval was forced to take them back across the divide. Afterwards, some of them were said to have gone mad. Others never took to sea again." He paused for a reaction but everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts. Surely it could not be true. Annata would not send them to such a terrible place.

"What I found interesting," Alondo continued, "is that this one is quite unlike the other stories surrounding the good Captain, where he is portrayed as the all-conquering hero. He came close to losing his ship and crew."

"It's nothing more than a legend," Keris reminded them.

Lyall had a faraway look. "Perhaps. But it's given me an idea. I think there might be a way to combine Shann's rather inventive notion of using lodestone with Arval's fanciful tale. It's risky, but I think we may just have found a way to cross the Great Barrier.

"How?" Alondo asked eagerly.

Lyall's eyes sparkled. "First things first. We are going to need a ship. "

~

Shann stood with her back to the wall of the shipwright's office, watching the world go by. Opposite her, a hodgepodge of buildings large and small, boarding houses, moneylenders, traders of every description. Carts drawn by striped graylesh trundled past along the cobbled street, conveying goods from the docks and back again. As she watched, an argument broke out between a round faced, hook nosed merchant and what she took to be a customer. The round faced man seemed to be demanding money. Over on the street corner, the tall figure of an Asoli, in distinctive green jacket and feathered headgear watched over the altercation, ready to intervene. The sky was overcast and a warm drizzle had begun, spattering on the round cobblestones and trickling down the back of her neck.

Shann felt like a fifth wheel. Alondo and Boxx were back at the Calandra. Alondo had expressed the idea that if he could discover what type of energy the machine used, they might be able to power it from this end, so Lyall suggested that he stay behind with the Chandara and work on it. He would take her and Keris into town. Then they would all meet up at the Calandra later that evening. Lyall had been rather cagey about his plan for them to cross the Barrier. All he had really said was that it would be necessary to arrange to modify a ship.

"Why am I coming along?" Shann had asked as they headed uphill towards the commercial district.

"Well, I thought it would be more interesting for you than just sitting around at the inn," Lyall had explained. Now he and Keris were ensconced in the shipwrights, discussing the finer points of maritime vessel construction, and she was left outside in the street. Just waiting. In the rain.

She wrapped the simple russet coloured robe tighter around her neck and felt a jingle in one of the folds. Lyall had given her half an astria. To the orphan kitchen hand in Corte, it would have been a fabulous sum of money and she would have been consumed by thoughts of how she could possibly spend it. Now though, standing here on a street in a city filled with more wonders and temptations than she had ever seen, she found that there was nothing she wanted. At least, nothing that money could buy. You are not the same person who left Corte–that was what Lyall had said. More and more, she was coming to realise that was true.

She was debating whether or not to enter the shipwright's to ask how much longer they were going to be, when the door opened and Keris stepped out into the street, closely followed by Lyall.

Lyall was contrite. "Sorry it took so long, Shann." He looked up at the sky and the gathering rain. "We've agreed on the modifications that will be needed. The chief artisan was curious, but fortunately, this is a town where people don't ask too many questions, so long as you have the money to pay. Our next task is to secure a suitable ship so that he can start work. We will also need someone to sail it, plus a certain quantity of lodestone. That last one may prove a bit difficult." He began leading the way back down to the docks. "The other thing is that the alterations will take a while–ten to twelve days, he reckons. That can't be avoided."

They reached the corner where the Asoli was standing watch. A blur of movement. A dark figure shot past them. Shann swivelled on her heel to see the back of a dark blue coat disappearing into the rain. Behind her she heard Lyall's shout, tinged with frustration and anger. "The money pouch–it's gone."

Chapter 27

Keris was already pulling her flying cloak out of her pack. "You haven't brought yours, have you?" It was a rebuke, rather than a question. She fastened the neck clasps. "You are the Door; I am the Dagger," she addressed Lyall. "River and Dam. Try not to lose sight of him." She turned and sprinted up the street.

"Remember Keris, no violence," she heard Lyall call after her. Does stomping on his head count? She shoved one lumbering pedestrian to one side, clipping a basket with her elbow. There was an angry shout as red and yellow fruits rolled across the cobbles. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the green uniformed Asoli on the corner was headed in her direction. She was attracting too much attention. And the thief was getting away. She cursed to herself and pounded away through the rain.

Keris blipped the upper lodestone layer of her cloak as she ran, seeking any natural lodestone that might lie beneath the old city. She needed to gain height, both to evade the Asoli and to track the criminal. The only deposits she could detect seemed to be fairly weak, but she managed to leap from one and immediately push against another, sailing up through the air to land on an adjacent roof. She dashed across the eaves, drawing stares and shouts from the street below.

The thief would be working to a definite plan–he was probably not operating alone. An accomplice had no doubt been keeping watch over the shipwright's office while they were inside. It was even possible that they had been targeted at the Calandra and followed here. She had tried to warn the others about the dangers of this place and had urged them to keep a low profile, but as usual Lyall had overruled her in his cavalier fashion. Now, once again, they were in a life-threatening situation. This is not a game.

Rain was falling steadily now; her boots felt slick against the smooth stone slates. She had to be careful not to lose her footing. Reaching the gable end, she hauled herself up onto the next building, then scaled the ridge. Standing on the apex, with one foot planted firmly on each slope, Keris had a bird's eye view of the port city.

Irregular roofs jutted into the air like a row of jagged peaks. Below her, a knot of curiosity seekers were running and pointing, following her progress. The tall Asoli in his distinctive green was visible in the centre of the throng. She peered through the curtain of rain up the length of the bustling street. After a moment, she spied Lyall and Shann racing away in pursuit of the thief, unmolested. Serendipity. Her clumsiness had diverted attention from the real chase. All she had to do now was lose her spectators and then execute the strategy.

The first was childishly simple. She ducked down the opposite slope and moved rapidly along the roof, out of sight of the crowd. She followed a course roughly parallel to that of Lyall and Shann. Thanks to her rooftop survey, Keris now had a map in her head of the streets in the immediate area. There was a fork in the road, ahead of Lyall and Shann's position. Assuming the thief did not turn and face them that left him two choices. Whichever road he took, one of them would give chase and the other would follow the remaining route. Hopefully, Lyall would have explained the strategy to Shann as they ran together. If nothing else, the girl was quick. She would get the idea.

River and Dam. River–channel the enemy down a single path. Dam–close it off, trapping him in front and behind. Keris darted across the uneven roofs, hopping over the gaps between narrow alleyways. She moved with the grace of a dagan, as if she had been born to this rooftop world. There were fewer people in the street on this side, and most were too preoccupied with finding shelter from the downpour to look up.

She was near the point where the road forked in two. Keris clambered up to a chimney breast and spotted Lyall pursuing blue-coat down the right hand street. Shann had taken the left fork, with the intention of cutting right at the first intersection, narrowing the thief's options.

They had to run him down quickly. Street thieves usually had a number of bolt holes at various points around the city, leading to underground or sewer networks. If he reached one before they could catch him, he would no doubt disappear like smoke. For all she had come to detest the Prophet's form of oppression, at least crime in Chalimar was virtually unheard of. No-one wanted to fall foul of the Keltar or end up as 'tribute.' At least there, she didn't have to deal with this kind of vermin.

Blue-coat ducked right down a passage between two low buildings. Keris slid down the right side of the high roof and scuttled along the eaves until she detected a deposit under the street below. She stepped off the overhang, using the lodestone to slow her descent. She touched down, cloak outstretched, in front of a thin, balding man in a stained apron. He was pushing a handcart laden with fish. The man gawped so that he looked like one of his charges.

"Pardon me." Keris loped away, leapt into the air and disappeared over the rooftops of the street opposite. It seemed to be a warehousing area, of newer construction than the shops and offices. The roof area was lower and more even. She swept across her private world, high up over the city, until she reached the opposite end of the alley into which the blue-coated thief had vanished. Lying flat against the tiles, she waited, like a vara-cat, ready to pounce. Moments later, the thief appeared. He allowed himself the luxury of a glance behind him, to check for signs of pursuit. In that instant, Keris rose up and sailed through the air, alighting right in front of him. The man barely had time to turn his head back and register shock before Keris had an arm around his throat. She did not have a weapon, but against a worm such as this, she didn't need one.

"You have something that belongs to us," she breathed into his ear.

The man's windpipe was constricted. "I...gcchhhh."

Lyall appeared in the alley, looking anxious rather than pleased. "Keris, don't–"

"You are under arrest." Keris heard a sonorous voice behind her. She whirled around, still clutching the thief. A mountain of a man stood head and shoulders above her, clad in a green uniform, his height accentuated by his tall feathered hat. Asoli.

She released her hold on the thief and rapidly considered her next action. According to the edicts of this cockeyed city, the common pickpocket she had forcibly accosted was a law abiding citizen, whereas she had just committed a serious crime. She had no doubt that she could subdue the huge Asoli, even unarmed as she was. However, the thief would likely get away with their money in the confusion and if there were other Asoli in the neighbourhood, the results could be quite unpleasant. She had no idea what the penalty was for attacking one of the city watch, but she was certain it would not be trivial. And if Lyall and Shann were implicated...curse this wretched place.

Shann came running up and came to a halt just behind Lyall. She looked uncertain.

All of a sudden, the thief cleared his throat and spoke up. "Is there a problem, watchkeeper?

The mountain placed a massive hand on Keris' shoulder. "This woman is being taken into custody for violent conduct. You will be asked to testify accordingly."

The thief massaged his neck briefly, then smiled. "You mean...? Oh, I see the source of your misperception. No, no, there is no violence here. These people are...my business associates. I asked them to chase me before securing our deal–I get so little exercise, you know."

Keris felt as if her mind was chasing to keep up with what was happening around her but was still falling behind. What is this thief up to?

The Asoli's eyes narrowed. "You testify that you are engaged in peaceful commerce?"

The thief drew himself erect. "I so testify."

The big man removed his hand from Keris' shoulder. "Then you are free to go. Keep the peace."

"Peace to you watchkeeper," the thief called after the man's retreating back. As soon as the Asoli was gone, he pulled a white kerchief from his blue coat and mopped his olive brow. He had a narrow face and sharp black eyes. "You people take some real risks. Don't you know the commerce laws here in Sakara?"

It was Lyall who framed the question on all of their minds. "Excuse me, but...why did you vouch for us?"

"Because I recognised you." The thief turned to his assailant. "You are Keris, the traitor from Chalimar."

~

"You have garnered quite the reputation: operating as a rogue Keltar, assaulting another Keltar and half a dozen soldiers, as well as the commander of the garrison at Gort. They even say you killed your own overseer. Is that true?"

They were seated in the back room of the Calandra, where the party had breakfasted only that morning. The thief was seated at the head of the table. Shann and Lyall were perched on stools either side. Keris stood by the door, as if barring the thief's escape, although the man did not seem in the least disposed to take flight.

Keris ignored his question. "Where is our money?" she menaced.

"Well, I don't have that on me right now. I handed it off, you see," he waved a hand dismissively. "We can discuss that later. Right now, I would be most interested to know what you are doing here in Sakara."

"Don't tell him anything," Keris counselled.

Lyall ignored her. "Why do you want to know?"

The man leaned forward, as if settling in to tell a long story. "There are two kinds of traders in this city. There is the kind whose only concern is making money here and now. They would sell their own grandmother for a fraction of an astria and they would not care who was paying. And then there are others who realise that Sakara is a unique city and that their livelihoods depend on its continued existence.

"Until recently, the city was a haven of peaceful commerce under the Guild Heads. However, over the past few turns, things have changed. The Prophet has spies and informants everywhere. The Asoli still keep peace in the open city, but if the Prophet's men can get a person off the streets, anything can happen. Every few days it seems, a body turns up, face down in the harbour. People are afraid that the Guild Master is losing his grip. There are even persistent rumours that the Keltar might stage a takeover and place the port under the Prophet's control. That would be a disaster for those of us who desire to retain our freedom."

"You mean the freedom to rob others," Keris accused.

"I mean the freedom to conduct legal commerce, yes. If you are who you appear to be, then I would like to offer the services of myself and my associates. If there is anything you need, I'm sure I can acquire it for you–at a fair price."

Lyall looked thoughtful. Keris' eyes widened. "You can't seriously be considering doing business with this individual?"

Lyall regarded her squarely. "They have a saying here in Sakara–'it's not the dealer, it's the deal.' Whether we like it or not, Keris, this is the way this city works."

"But...we know nothing about this person," Keris protested. "For all we know, he could be in league with the Prophet himself–sent to lay a trap for us."

"Patris...I am called Patris...look, to show my good faith, let me give you some information and advice–free of charge. Chalimar is stirred up like a mannatars' nest. They know of your presence in Sakara, and there is a sizeable bounty on offer. I know a lot of people who would love to get their hands on you. They only seem to be interested in the woman Keris, but I'm sure they would not hesitate to eliminate anyone who got in their way. My advice would be for you to leave the city as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry," Lyall's expression was grave. "Circumstances dictate that we must remain here for the next few days. Then we will be leaving by ship."

Patris shrugged. "The choice is yours. I cannot protect you while you are here–the risk is too great. I can quietly book passage for you on a ship when you are ready to depart–for a modest commission."

"A commission?" Shann asked.

Patris grinned. "As we say here in Sakara, 'the wind and the waves are free; everything else comes at a price.' Where is it you are headed?" There was a silence around the table. Patris held up his hand. "That's all right. I can appreciate that you have no reason to trust me."

"It's not that exactly," Lyall explained. "It's just that our destination is not on any of the regular trade routes. We are going to need a ship of our own."

The thief raised an eyebrow. "Charter or purchase?"

Lyall glanced at Shann and Keris. "Purchase."

"Size?"

"Small." Lyall considered. "A single masted cog should be sufficient."

"A cog cannot be sailed into a headwind," Keris pointed out.

"No, but it can be crewed by a handful of people. And I don't intend for us to 'sail' into any headwind, in any case." He gave Keris a knowing look and she grew quiet. He turned back to Patris. "It must also be ready for immediate refit. The details are lodged at the shipwright's office where you...encountered us."

Patris nodded. "I think I know of a suitable vessel. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, our money," Keris repeated.

"Why don't we consider that a down payment on your requirements, all right?" Patris smiled a genial smile. Keris' face was impassive.

"We will also need someone skilled in seamanship, someone..." Lyall seemed to be weighing his next word carefully, "...trustworthy."

Patris burst out laughing. "That's a tall order in this town. However, I count seamanship among my various talents. I would be glad to assist you."

"You are a sailor as well as a thief?" Shann was incredulous.

Patris' dark eyes flashed. "Actually in a free port such as this, that's not uncommon. Many people here have spent some time at sea as traders or freebooters."

"There is one more item we will need." Lyall leaned forward. "A quantity of refined lodestone–not less than five levia weights."

Patris blew through his teeth and ran a hand through his brown shoulder length hair. "Difficult. I presume you know that all lodestone production is strictly controlled by your Prophet. Even the Guilds here in Sakara are forbidden to trade in it as a part of their treaty with Chalimar."

Keris turned away. "Dealing with this con artist is a waste of time."

Lyall looked at her sharply, but Patris didn't seem fazed by the insult. "I said it was difficult–not impossible. When do you need it?"

"Within three days," Lyall replied.

"Done."

Alondo suddenly poked his head around the door. "You're back, I see."

"We are." Lyall confirmed with an amused expression. "How are you and Boxx getting on?"

"We have some ideas–not much progress as yet though. Who is our guest?"

"This is Patris," Lyall opened his hand. "He tried to rob us earlier. We are just negotiating with him for the things we need."

Alondo appeared nonplussed. "I see. Well...pleased to meet you. Evening meal will be ready shortly."

"Thank you," Lyall acknowledged. Alondo disappeared behind the door. Shann suppressed a giggle.

"He certainly seems an odd fellow," Patris observed.

"You think so?" Lyall commented. "Just wait till you meet Boxx."

Chapter 28

"This is a mistake." Keris stood toe to toe with Lyall on the deck of the Soraya. Their conversation was punctuated by sounds of sawing and hammering and the occasional shouts of the refit crew as they laboured to install lateral and transverse bulkheads as well as a new bilge keel. The keel would help their little vessel to stay upright in the turbulent storms. The bulkheads would give added strength and help prevent capsizing–or so Lyall hoped. The truth was that despite the ingenious method he had devised to get them through the Barrier, and the preparations he was making, there was still an excellent chance that they would all perish in the attempt. That meant that soon, very soon, he would have to make a difficult decision. He thrust the thought to the back of his mind for the hundredth time, and focussed his attention on Keris. "How do you mean?" He had a fair idea of what she was going to say next.

"I mean dealing with these...people."

It suited Lyall to play dumb. He took in his surroundings. The vessel lay in dry dock, nestled in a maze of scaffolding like a sea monster in a cage. "I don't know; the shipwrights seem to be doing a first rate job."

"Not them; I mean the criminals who are meant to be obtaining our supplies."

"They are not criminals here in Sakara," Lyall corrected her. "They are law abiding citizens."

"Don't remind me."

Lyall put a hand on her shoulder. "Believe it or not, I appreciate your caution, Keris. But the arrangement does seem to be working out well so far. We have our ship, and work is proceeding apace."

Keris was steely-eyed. Clearly, she was not going to be easily put off this time. "This ship looks pretty old to me. How can you even be sure it's seaworthy?"

"Oh, I think that's the least of our worries."

"What makes you say that?"

Lyall laughed lightly. "Because Patris is sailing with us. I hardly think he would put to sea in something that is going to sink as soon as we clear the harbour."

Two caulkers in stained aprons appeared over the gangway, carrying a selection of tools. They nodded to Lyall and Keris as they passed on their way to the stern castle. Keris lowered her voice. "Patris doesn't know where we are headed, or what we intend to face. When he realises, there is no way he is going to agree to sail the ship into the Great Barrier."

Lyall pursed his lips. "I've thought of that. If all goes to plan, we won't actually have to sail the ship through the Barrier. As far as Patris is concerned, I am arranging to have a covered launch installed. We will let him disembark and sail back to Sakara. He will be a few days at sea, but he will be more than adequately compensated."

Keris shook her head. "I still don't trust them. They agreed to supply our lodestone in three days. That was eight days ago. I think they are suspicious of why we need it."

"I'm sure they are," Lyall agreed. "But a good trader knows not to ask his customers too many awkward questions. The Guilds cannot be seen to be connected with any trade in lodestone, so I knew when we conceived of this plan that we would probably have to deal with an 'unofficial' source. If you know of another way...?" Keris shook her head. "Then I think we have no choice other than to be patient."

"Still, we are taking a real risk," Keris warned. "Patris already told us there is a large bounty being offered. If they were to decide to deliver us to the Prophet's spies, they could easily do so, and the lodestone provides the perfect excuse to keep us here and delay our departure."

Lyall cast his eye over the neatly stacked planks of seasoned wood. The work below deck was proceeding apace. However, to provide added stability, he ideally wanted the fore and stern castles lowered. There was also the lodestone to be installed–whenever it finally arrived. Keris was right. Time was of the essence, and every day they remained here involved added danger. "When the lodestone is fitted, we should test it to see if it works properly. After all, I don't think anyone has ever attempted this before."

"I will do that," Keris said. "You still don't wish for Shann and the others to know what you're planning."

"No. I have my reasons."

Laughter drifted over from the direction of the gangway. Shann and Oliah appeared together, locked in animated conversation. The day after their encounter with Patris, Oliah had shown up at the Calandra and introduced herself as one of Patris' 'business associates,' which was to say that she, too, was a street thief. The unlikely pair had hit it off and were now virtually inseparable. Alondo was involved too, although Lyall had firmly told himself that it was none of his business.

The girls were both small and slight, although Oliah was a little older and had short fair hair. They could easily have been taken for sisters. Shann sauntered up to Lyall and Keris with a spring in her step. Oliah was hanging back, peeking out from beneath her delicate eyelids with a coy expression. "Have you seen Alondo?" Shann asked Lyall casually.

"I left him below." The girls turned tail and left together, arm in arm. "Don't take him away from his work," Lyall called out after them.

"We won't," Shann promised. Both girls erupted again in peals of laughter.

Lyall and Keris stood side by side, watching them go. Finally Keris spoke under her breath. "They have no idea what they are facing."

For once, Lyall was in complete agreement with her. He felt an odd twinge. Worry? Regret? Fear? And once more, the spectre of the decision he would soon have to make rose in his consciousness like a maralah, its four penetrating eyes demanding his attention. Not yet.

There was a further sound coming from the direction of the gangway, but this time it was not laughter. A shout of greeting. Two more in acknowledgement. Patris' narrow face and hook nose were followed by his slim body, clothed in an expensive looking purple and yellow suit. He hurried towards them across the deck. He was all smiles. "Good news," he beamed, "Your lodestone is here."

~

The wharf area–the very heart of the port city of Sakara. By night, a place of scarlet pools. Of secret shadows. A tall, broad man stepped forth from one. He strode purposefully to the edge of the dock. Ships great and small lay alongside one another, framed as silhouettes against the dimly lit cloudscape. Their hulls creaked gently like a row of old men turning over in bed. Waves lapped gently against the breakwater.

Most of the gangways had been taken up, but one had been left conspicuously rolled out. It vanished into the bowels of one of the larger vessels. Inviting. The man moved silently up the gangway and into the dark recess of an upper deck.

He paused a moment to allow his eyes to become accustomed to the gloom; a tiny point of light was visible towards one corner. The man headed for it, ducking carefully to avoid the low beam work. The light gradually resolved into a flickering candle, set in the centre of a small round table. Before the table were two stools, one of which was occupied by a figure in a dark, close fitting jacket. The candlelight cast his features in sharp relief. One hand was by his side; the other rested on the table, revealing a bronze ring on his index finger, set with a black stone. He motioned to the other stool and the broad man took a seat.

The man at the table raised his Ringed hand. "Fealty and service to the Three and the One."

"Fealty and service," the newcomer intoned.

"My Lord, Saccath," the man at the table began. It is good to meet you at last. I am called Girmala. I have the honour to be the eyes and ears of the Prophet in this city. I have been informed of your arrival by the keep at Chalimar. I am to do all in my power to assist you."

Saccath nodded slowly. "Very good. You have been briefed as to my mission here?"

"Somewhat," Girmala affirmed. "I am aware that you are pursuing the renegade, Keris. Armed with that intelligence, and in anticipation of your arrival, I have had the subject under surveillance for a number of days. The group she is travelling with is staying at the Calandra. What is not clear, however, is the reason for their presence here. They appear to have allied themselves with one of the thief gangs." He screwed his face up. "It is difficult to believe that a servant of the Prophet would consort with such people."

Saccath ignored the man's thinly disguised attempts to curry favour. It had been a long journey here and he did not have time to waste. He needed information, information that would enable him to deal finally with Keris. Murderer of Nikome and Mordal. Traitor to the Prophet. Betrayer of everything she stood for. Somehow she and the group she was travelling with had survived the Pits of Kharthrun. He had promised Mevan and himself that if any of them reached Sakara, then he would see to it that that would be the end of their journey. He intended to make good on that promise. "What else have you discovered?"

"They have purchased a ship and appear to be modifying it, although I cannot say to what purpose. Their destination, too, is something of a mystery. Most curious of all, they have acquired a quantity of lodestone."

Saccath's ears pricked up. "How is that possible?"

"We do not know. We... were unable to track the source." Girmala's eyes flicked to the other man and then down at the table.

Saccath did not care about delivering a rebuke. The Guilds were supposed to be prohibited from acquiring or trading in lodestone. Clearly the authorities in Chalimar had underestimated their resourcefulness–and their treachery. He would have to report the matter in due course. For now though, he did not care about anything other than his quarry. His eyes became distant. "Why would she require lodestone?"

Girmala took the question as addressed to him. "I will investigate."

Saccath roused himself. "No...no, I want you to take the woman Keris into custody as soon as possible. I will interrogate her myself. She must be taken without interference from the city watch."

Girmala smiled; shadows cast by the candlelight lent his face a ghoulish appearance. "Do not concern yourself, Lord. We have done this sort of thing a number of times before at the behest of the Unan-Chinneroth. We are quite good at what we do."

Girmala was a little too self-assured, a little too complacent. His use of the Prophet's formal name was calculated to impress. It had the reverse effect. Saccath found that his dislike of the other man was growing by the moment. This had to be done right. There was no room for mistakes. He leaned forward, the single flame reflected in each eye. "Listen carefully. This woman is no mere petty thief or corrupt city official. She is one of our own, a trained Keltar with skills well in excess of those of your men. Even unarmed, she will not be taken easily. The operation will need to be well planned."

Girmala's smile vanished. "It will be as you command." He paused, weighing his next words carefully. "We have discovered a further piece of information that may be of use, my Lord. It seems that one of those travelling with her–the coward who attacked a Keltar in Corte and then fled–has been identified as the same person who led an attack on Persillan eleven turns ago. The Prophet has a special interest in him. In fact, his sister is being held in custody at a secret location, in the hopes that he would show his face again."

"I see. Well, we will deal with the rest of them, as soon as the woman Keris is out of the way,"

"Understood."

Saccath rose from his stool and turned to leave. He heard Girmala's voice behind him. "What will happen to her?"

Saccath did not turn around. "She will not leave this city alive." He strode off into the darkness, leaving the other man seated alone at the candlelit table. Girmala leaned forward, cupped the flame gently in one hand as if it were a life, and blew it out.

~

"We sail on the morning tide."

Lyall made the announcement to the gathering seated in the back room of the Calandra that had become their unofficial meeting place. Keris and Patris were off making final arrangements and were expected shortly. Shann and Boxx sat on one side of the table; Alondo and Oliah were on the other. Oliah's eyes were red rimmed, as if she had been crying. She kept looking at her hands.

Lyall and Alondo had been friends since childhood. The musician's ready smile and easy manner had led him into numerous close friendships with women, but none that Lyall could recall as being serious–until now. Lyall was grateful in a way, since it made the decision he had come to, the decision he was going to have to announce a little later this evening, somewhat easier.

Before that however, there were two small but important matters to deal with. The first was purely to do with morale. He smiled at the group. "Our ship needs a name."

"It already has a name–the Soraya," Shann reminded him.

"The ship is ours now." Lyall pointed out. "Besides, a 'soraya' is a sea creature with four eyes and tentacles."

Alondo had a puzzled look. "I thought it was the name of a local soup?"

"It is," Lyall confirmed. "That's what's in the soup."

Alondo suddenly looked ill. "That's what I had for breakfast. No wonder no-one would answer me when I asked what the bits were."

Shann stifled a giggle.

"Well, I think we can do better. Suggestions, people?"

Alondo and Shann looked at each other. Shann's face lit up. "How about Stormchaser?"

"I like it," Alondo beamed.

"So do I. However, I don't think we want to give Patris quite such an obvious clue to our intentions, do we?" asked Lyall. Shann and Alondo both shook their heads.

Alondo interrupted the silence. "We could name her after Oliah, here." Oliah squeezed his hand, looked up into his face and smiled.

"Annata." All eyes turned to look at the Chandara.

Lyall nodded. "That seems good. After all, it is she who started us on this journey. It's a reminder of why we are all here."

"Annata's Reach," Shann added.

"Perfect. Are we all agreed?" There were nods from around the table. Lyall broke the top off a bottle of narrian wine and filled five goblets. He raised one. "The Annata's Reach."

"Annata's Reach," the others chorused.

Lyall put down his goblet. "Well now that that's decided, there is another thing for us to take care of." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened it carefully. Set within it were the two Speaker Rings that Keris had acquired back in Gort. "I think it is time for us to put these to use. Alondo has explained to Oliah where we are going. She has agreed not to tell Patris. She has also agreed to care for the Speaker Ring on this side, to keep us informed of developments here. Of course, we cannot be certain that the Ring will function across the Great Barrier, but Keris and I both feel that it is worth the risk."

He passed one Ring to Alondo, who took Oliah's hand and put it on her finger. The fair haired girl was looking up at him all the while.

"The Rings must first be Linked." Lyall handed the second Ring to Alondo.

"What do I do?" Alondo asked.

"Hold the Rings against each other so that the stones touch."

Alondo touched the Ring to the one on Oliah's hand. They looked into one another's eyes. After a moment an ethereal green light filled the space between them. Finally, the light died. Alondo handed the second Ring back to Lyall, who placed it back in the box and closed the lid. Oliah looked down at the Ring on her finger as if it were a thing of wonder.

"Thank you," Lyall addressed her. "We will be relying on you."

"I will not let you down," she said.

"I have one more favour to ask. I need to talk to Shann and Alondo alone for a moment. Is that all right?"

Oliah smiled bravely. "Of course. Come on, Boxx."

When the two had left, Lyall looked at Shann and Alondo in turn. Now that the moment he was dreading had finally come, he found himself torn by indecision. A part of him wanted to excuse himself. To say it was nothing, that it had all been a mistake. But he was locked onto a path that allowed no turning. He pressed on. "You have both been an essential part of this journey so far. I could not have asked for braver companions." He paused, looking down at the table; then raised his head to look into their eyes once more. "Or truer friends.

"Now we are facing our greatest challenge yet. To save this world, we must attempt to cross the Great Barrier of Storms. Yet, even in spite of all of our planning and preparation, we may not survive. That is why I have decided...that the two of you should stay behind."

"No!" It was Shann who reacted. Alondo just looked stunned.

"I have thought about this carefully," Lyall pushed forward. "Boxx is essential to the fulfilment of Annata's plan. He will only deal with Keris, so she has to come, too. Besides, there seems to be no safe place left for her here. Patris is needed to sail the ship. As for the two of you–well there is no compelling reason to risk your lives further. Besides, Alondo has...ties here now."

"Oliah and I have already discussed this together," Alondo said. "She believes in what we are doing and she wants me to go."

Lyall had a wry expression. "You know little about women, my friend. She will tell you what you wish to hear, but I was watching her tonight. Her face betrays her true feelings."

"This is about what happened at Persillan again, isn't it?"

Lyall felt Alondo's words hit home. "It has nothing to do with that. I simply will not risk more lives than is absolutely necessary."

"Persillan?" Shann asked.

"It's something that happened a long time ago, Shann. It has no bearing here." Lyall looked at Alondo, willing him to silence.

Shann pulled down the collar of her tunic, exposing the bare olive flesh of her neck. The flame brand was clearly visible, the mark that he had put there with his own hand. "I got this trying to free the tributes at Gort from slavery to the Prophet. I am coming with you, whatever. Unless you intend to throw me off the ship."

Alondo leaned forward. "That goes for me, too."

Lyall looked at their earnest faces and felt his heart melt. His best friend and the girl who had saved his life twice. How could he forgive himself if anything happened to them? He wanted to plead with them both–to beg them not to add to his pain. Alondo was right. It was the pain associated with those events eleven turns ago that had shaped his life ever since. That pain had compelled him to attack a Keltar in Corte and to try in vain to free the tributes at Gort. Now it was driving him to hurl himself at the Great Barrier itself. Aune. Are you still alive somewhere? Will I ever see you again?

In that moment, the door flew open, and Patris appeared. His breath was short and his eyes were grave. "Keris–she's disappeared."

Chapter 29

The room at the back of the Calandra seemed crowded. Shann, Lyall, Alondo and Boxx were joined by members of the thief gang. Oliah's arm was linked in Alondo's and the girl seemed to be leaning against him for security.

Shann too felt conflicted, but for different reasons. If the Prophet's men had indeed snatched Keris, then that would suggest that her claims to have broken her ties with Chalimar were genuine. However, she could just as easily have gone with them voluntarily to make it look as if she had been kidnapped–perhaps as a last ditch attempt to delay their departure? If that were the case, then the best thing to do would be to leave her in the company of her Keltar friends and sail without her. However, something told her that Lyall would never agree to that.

Patris stood at the head of the table. "They have her at one of their safe houses."

"Safe houses?" Lyall asked.

"The Prophet's agents have several business fronts and safe houses in the city," Patris explained. "Your companion is being held at one on Cyrran Street, near where the shipwright's office is located."

"Then we must go there and free her," Lyall said.

Patris shook his head. "That would be unwise. She is being held on the uppermost floor and there are guards on each level. You would not get anywhere near."

Lyall frowned. "What do you suggest?"

"I am not sure–I don't see how I can help you. Our thief company is a co-operative–I can't order them to undertake a mission such as this and to be honest; I wouldn't even if I could. To do so could lead to open war with the Prophet's forces here in Sakara–a war that we have neither the people nor the resources to sustain. I'm sorry. I won't do it."

"We could get straight to the top floor." Shut up, you fool, Shann berated herself. Yet despite her misgivings, it still felt wrong to abandon someone–even Keris.

Lyall appeared lost in thought. Then he turned to Patris. He seemed to be weighing his words carefully. "I appreciate your situation. However, we must attempt a rescue of our companion. As you say, there is an element of risk. And...you have not yet been paid for your services on our behalf. If we were to meet up with an accident–"

"That would be most unfortunate," Patris completed the thought.

"Yes," Lyall said. "Yes it would...Of course, our chances of success might well be enhanced if there were some sort of unforeseen diversion–say for instance, a fire suddenly breaking out in an adjacent building?"

Patris quirked one side of his mouth. "I believe there is a blacksmith's shop next door. It's quite possible that a stray ember might spark a blaze of sizeable proportions."

"Might such an accident occur later this evening?" Lyall probed.

"It's a distinct possibility."

"Then we have an understanding?"

"I believe so–oh, by the way, I wonder if you would excuse me. I have suddenly remembered some pressing business I must attend to."

"By all means. Don't forget to be aboard the ship by first light. Our departure will prove to be...somewhat hasty, I would think."

Patris and Lyall exchanged a look. Then Patris signalled to the others in his group and they filed out.

When they had gone, Alondo turned to Lyall. "You had him eating out of your hand."

Lyall laughed. "I just played on his weak spot–money. Besides, I think he enjoys the thought of taking the Prophet's forces down a peg. I just needed to show him a way of doing that without risk to his own people."

Shann had a serious look. "You realise this may be a trap."

"You're right, it may," Lyall said. "However, I don't think we have much of a choice." Shann saw the resolve in his eyes. No, I don't suppose that you do. "Shann and I are the only ones who can get to the upper floor without having to go in the front door, so we will be the ones to free Keris."

"What do you want me and Boxx to do?" Alondo asked.

Lyall put his arm around Alondo's shoulders. "I'm glad you asked that. I have a special job for you, my friend."

~

Ail-Mazzoth lay low in the west, casting a ruddy glow over the rooftops of the port city. Sounds of merrymaking drifted up from the various hostelries, as clothier and baker, seaman and sail maker, raised a stoup to one another's health. In an alley to the rear of the safe house, hidden deep in the shadows, two cloaked figures were crouched down side by side, waiting.

A shout...then another. Not the sounds of casual revelry. These were cries of alarm. Patris' little diversion was underway. Time to move.

Lyall and Shann moved stealthily along the alley until they were directly beneath the building where Patris had indicated that Keris was being held. The edifice rose before them, indomitable like a sheer cliff face, punctuated by lit windows at regular intervals. Four storeys. It would take a considerable leap to reach the uppermost level. Following the battle with the Kharthrun serpent, Shann understood the basic concept of co-operative mechanics. If they timed it correctly...

Shann made eye contact with Lyall, who nodded to her. Bending her knees, she jumped, using a weak natural source. She felt a rush of air behind her; then a crushing downward pressure on the refined lodestone in her cloak's mechanism. She was slammed towards the ground. The natural deposit barely slowed her descent and she landed hard, barely managing to stay upright. How about next time I do that to you?

She peered upwards to see a hunched form on the roof and a rope snaking down to meet her. Shann wrapped the rope around her hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. As she reached the uppermost level, she passed a darkened window. Her feet found the ledge. She signalled to Lyall and the rope went slack.

With one hand, Shann held on to the casement and with the other hand, she reached inside a pouch, feeling the resistant pull of an oval shaped lodestone, dark as night. She held the stone against the window just as Lyall had instructed her earlier, and moved it in an upward motion towards the inside latch. After a couple of failed attempts and a rising sense of frustration, Shann heard the dull scrape of iron against iron as the latch was pushed upwards.

The freed window moved outward imperceptibly. As Shann pulled it all the way open, her other hand moved instinctively towards the staff at her back–Keris' staff. As usual, the woman had taken her flying cloak with her, but had left her staff back at the Calandra.

As they were getting ready to leave, Lyall had handed it to her. "To replace your broken one."

Shann stared at it as if it were about to turn into a serpent and bite her. "She would not let me take this."

Lyall smiled. "You didn't take it–I did. Don't worry, Shann. If there is one thing Keris understands, it's necessity." I hope you're right.

The room beyond the window was silent, swathed in shadow. Shann nimbly slipped inside. A moment later, Lyall's feet appeared in the window frame and she helped pull him in.

Lyall took the lead, moving to a door set in the far wall. He opened it a crack. Artificial light washed into the room. It was largely empty, apart from a cabinet against one wall and a few packing cases. Lyall opened the door wider. The corridor was empty. She followed him out into the hallway. They followed the passageway as it bore to the left, passing a stairwell which led down to the floor below. All was quiet. At the first intersection, Lyall held up his hand and peeked around the corner. He stepped back and touched her arm to get her attention, holding up two fingers. Two guardians. They might just as well have put a sign over the door. He mouthed the words, "Follow my lead," waited until she nodded once, then rounded the corner confidently with Shann in tow.

The two guardians were clad in light serge, with short blades at their sides. They fingered the hilts and shuffled their feet nervously as the cloaked figures approached. Lyall's instructions earlier that evening came back to her. "Use the wood and the flat of the blade." It was a euphemism for the employment of non-lethal skills. She could just imagine what Keris would have to say about that. Still, these were obviously not Chalimar-trained soldiers; they were locally recruited grunts. With luck, their wits would be as dull as their blades.

Lyall stopped in front of the guardians and assumed an authoritative air. "We wish to interrogate the prisoner. Stand aside." It was a calculated gamble. The flying cloaks Lyall and Shann wore were not only a tool; they were a symbol of authority. But would these men's fear of the Keltar be sufficient to overcome their natural suspicion? Shann felt her body tense. The next few moments would be critical.

The guardian on the left had an older weather-beaten face, like a man who had spent too many days at sea. His eyes narrowed. "The prisoner was returned from interrogation only a short while ago. Our orders are that no-one be allowed in to see her without Girmala's express permission."

Lyall stood his ground. "We are sent by Girmala. There is some information she provided that he wishes to clarify."

"Girmala sent you, Keltar?"

"You doubt my word?"

"No–no of course not." His tone suddenly changed. "Forgive me, Lord." He sounded solicitous–too solicitous. "Do you wish us to accompany you or shall we–"

In a split second, Shann saw the steel in the man's eye. The subtle shift of balance onto the balls of his feet. The barest twitch of his fingers on the hilt of his blade. Suddenly, Keris' staff was in her hand like a living thing, its movement a blur, faster than thought. The wood impacted against the guardian's temple and he dropped like a sack of moba root. She shifted her attention towards the younger slender-faced, dark-eyed guardian, but Lyall's staff was already in motion. He swung it with great force at the youth's midriff. The youngster doubled up as every ounce of breath was forcibly expelled from his lungs. A moment later, Lyall brought the staff down on the back of his head. The boy fell to the ground face down and did not move. Lyall looked over at Shann, his brow knotted.

"He was going for his weapon," Shann explained.

An odd flicker passed over Lyall's face. "The key?"

Shann sheathed the staff and ran her hand over the guardian's serge until she felt an irregular shape. "Got it." She handed the large flat key to Lyall who opened the door. They quickly dragged the supine forms inside.

Shann peered into the dimly lit room. It was featureless save for a pallet in the far corner. As she moved towards the pallet, she saw a figure lying motionless. A figure in a dark suit, with long black hair. Keris. Shann bent over her and felt the warmth of her olive skin, a faint breath of air from her nostrils. "She's alive." As she examined the woman she realised with a jolt that the side of her face was badly bruised and swollen and there were contusions on her forehead and neck, smeared with drying white blood. What have they done to you?

Keris opened her eyes slowly and looked up at Shann. Her expression turned to disbelief. "You."

Shann's feelings of pity began to evaporate. Maybe we should just leave you here.

Lyall appeared behind her. "Keris, are you all right? Can you move?"

With some effort, Keris propped herself up on her elbows. "I'll manage." Her voice sounded thick in her mouth. Shann helped Keris to her feet. She unsheathed Keris' diamond bladed staff and handed it to her. Keris' right hand was covered with a makeshift bandage ripped from her own clothing. Dried blood had seeped through. Shann wanted to ask her what happened but was gagged by the bile rising in her throat.

The solidness of Keris' staff seemed to strengthen her, and she drew herself erect. She moved stiffly over to where the guardians lay and knelt next to the younger one, grabbing him with her unbandaged hand and shaking him by the scruff of the neck. He came to, groggily. Her voice rasped. "My things. Where are they?"

The guardian pointed. "Two doors down. Don't–" Keris cuffed him back to silence. They exited the detention room. Lyall locked it behind them and led the way down the corridor. Stopping at the designated room, Lyall listened; then tested the door. It was unlocked. They slipped inside. The room was dimly lit, with a table at the centre and an assortment of cabinets lining the walls. Lyall watched the door while Keris and Shann began lifting lids and rifling through drawers. "Hurry it up," he hissed.

Shann glanced across at the other woman, taking in the extent of her injuries, the way she winced when her body turned a certain way. She realised that her sense of shock derived not just from the damage done to Keris but the damage done to her own expectations. Ever since the Keltar had appeared in their path on the highway outside Gort, Shann had been convinced that she was the enemy. Keltar are the eyes and ears of the Prophet–everyone knew that. Later on the Eastern Plains, when she caught Keris using the Speaker Ring, there seemed no room for doubt. The timing of the woman's 'kidnap' the night before their departure seemed altogether too perfect. Shann had fully expected to find a trap waiting for them. Now, seeing firsthand the abuse meted out to her by the agents of the Prophet, brought Shann face to face with a jarring thought–could I have been wrong about her all along?

"Here it is." Keris extracted her pack from a small chest. She pulled out the flying cloak and cast it about her shoulders, fumbling one-handed. Shann went over and helped her secure the neck clasp. As their eyes met, Shann searched the other woman for answers. The side of her face was puffy and one eye was partly closed, but there was the same angular nose and lean features–the same black eyes, hard as diamonds and just as unfathomable. "Thank you." Keris' voice held an edge of concealed pain.

"All right, let's move." Lyall opened the door a crack; then motioned for the others to follow. Retracing their steps, they turned the corner and passed the stairwell. Footsteps and agitated voices from the floor below. The creak of heavy boots ascending the stairs. Lyall urged the two women forward. "Get out of here, now."

"What are you doing?" Shann hissed.

"I'll try and slow them down. Move."

No. Shann's protest died on her lips as she realised with a sickening feeling that she had no staff with which to fight. She could not ask Keris for hers back–the older woman was leaning heavily on it, barely able to stand. Flushed with anger at her own impotence, Shann turned and headed for the room at the rear of the building where she and Lyall had entered earlier. Keris hobbled along in her wake. Shouts of surprise and anger. Shann checked over her shoulder and was granted a vision of Lyall, feet firmly planted, staff held out defensively against an onrush of attackers. She reached the door and held it open for Keris. "In here," she called, a little too harshly. Keris, who seemed to be expending every ounce of willpower in just keeping moving, obeyed without comment or argument.

Shann dashed to the open window and climbed onto the ledge. Grabbing the rope, she turned back to address Keris. "Wait here." As she abseiled down the side of the building, her only thoughts were of Lyall. Stay alive. Her boots settled down onto the hard packed dirt of the alleyway. She released the rope and flared both the bronze and upper lodestone layers of her cloak. As she looked up, Keris' head appeared at the window. "Jump," Shann commanded.

She watched as Keris climbed awkwardly onto the window sill, opened her cloak and stepped into empty air. Shann felt the sudden pressure on her shoulders, as Keris used the lodestone in Shann's cloak to slow her descent. The tall woman touched down beside her, and Shann saw her shoulders sag. Shann fixed her eyes once more on the upstairs window, looking for signs of Lyall. Come on... Moments stretched and attenuated into spans. Keris stood beside her and sighed.

You would abandon him again, wouldn't you? Just as you did in the Pits. "We are not leaving without Lyall."

"I had no intention of doing so," Keris said. No. Of course you didn't.

There was a commotion from above. Suddenly a dark silhouette launched itself from the window. Shann felt a downward push once again as Lyall dropped towards them, framed by the crimson night sky. He landed lightly. Above them, figures at the window scanned the alley below.

"Let's go." Lyall led the way as they rounded the building and came out onto the main thoroughfare. A knot of people were gathered up the hill, still preoccupied by the mysterious fire at the blacksmith's shop. The party set off in the opposite direction, down the hill towards the docks. Shouts behind them. Shann glanced back as an armed group spilled out onto the street and started after them. There were no Asoli anywhere nearby–by accident or design? There was no time to speculate. Keris was doing her best to keep up, but it was apparent that she was struggling. Lyall grabbed her arm, pulled it around his shoulder and propelled them both forward.

As they reached a crossroads, Shann looked over her shoulder once more. The others were gaining on them. They would catch them before they reached the docks for certain. An odd roaring sound. All of a sudden, a large cart trundled out of the side street and onto the intersection. The cart held barrels of pitch. They were on fire. The cart skidded to a halt and barrels dislodged themselves, bursting and spreading burning tar over the cobbles. At the same moment, three figures jumped from the buckboard; one a strange shelled creature, one in a light blue dress and short fair hair, the last with a round face, topped off with an absurd red cap. Alondo, Oliah and Boxx hurried to catch up to them.

"How'd we do?" Alondo asked Lyall.

Behind them, the pursuers had been stopped dead in their tracks by the flaming barrier. The shouts had risen in pitch to cries of anger and alarm. "Well done, indeed. Let's hope that holds them for a while."

They hurried past deserted stalls and shadowed doorways, finally bursting out onto the open wharf. The sky above the rooftops to the west was lightening with the promise of dawn. Annata's Reach lay alongside two square rigged caravels, like a small child flanked by parents that towered over it. At the top of the gangway, Patris was beckoning to them urgently.

Lyall supported Keris up the gangway. Shann embraced Oliah and they held on to each other for a long moment. Shann felt the tears welling up in her eyes and let them flow. They released each other and Oliah embraced Alondo. He whispered something in her ear and she buried her head against his shoulder. Boxx stood on its hind limbs, head cocked to one side, and watched them curiously.

Patris called out from the top of the gangway. "Come on. They'll be here any moment. We have to leave."

Alondo released Oliah, reached out and brushed her face with the back of his hand. "Get away from here, quickly."

She smiled through her tears and touched his cheek in return. The Speaker Ring was visible on her finger. "I'll be fine. Be well. You too, dear sister."

"I'll make sure he stays out of trouble," Shann promised.

Alondo and Shann tore themselves away and ran up the gangway, Boxx scampering behind them. Shann glanced back in time to see Oliah slipping into the entrance of a building adjoining the wharf area, seeking a safe vantage point from which to watch the ship's departure. When will I see you again, my sister?

As they reached the foredeck, Patris cut the ropes securing the gangway. It fell into the water with a satisfying splash. Lyall was already at the cathead, hacking with his diamond bladed staff at the hawser which secured the ship to the dock. After a few strokes it was severed and the ship floated free.

"Grab a pole," Patris called to Alondo and Shann. They followed Patris' lead as he and Lyall picked up one long oar between them, while she and Alondo hefted the other. They manhandled their oars on either side of the bowsprit and shoved off from the dock. They heaved together. Slowly, the ship began to back out from its mooring, slipping past the hulls of its larger neighbours until there was clear water on either side. Patris went to the stern and pulled the rudder hard over. The small ship began to turn until its prow was pointing out to sea.

"Where did Keris go?" Shann asked Lyall.

"She's in the stern. Boxx is caring for her. She is badly injured, Shann."

Shann felt sick at the injuries inflicted on the older woman. But that did not change who and what she was. She may have turned against her former masters but that did not absolve her from the crimes she had committed, not as far as Shann was concerned. Can you bring back the people you sent to the ore camps to die? Can you bring back my mother and father? No. I risked my life to rescue you. But don't expect any sympathy.

Patris fixed the rudder in place and hastened down the ladder to the deck. Making his way to the single mast, he scuttled up the rigging. Lyall, Shann and Alondo descended the forecastle to the deck and gazed up in fascination as he bent over the yard and untied the sail.

"He's not going to ask me to go up there, is he?" Alondo asked nervously.

Shann looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I don't think Oliah would let you go."

"She doesn't tell me what to do," Alondo protested.

"No," Shann smiled a secret smile. "Of course not."

Patris slid down the rigging to the deck beside them. His eyes shone and he looked as if he was in his element. "Time to make sail. Let's haul on the halyards." They looked at each other blankly. "The ropes here," he indicated, "and here." Shann and Alondo took up a rope obediently and Lyall and Patris grabbed the other one. "Now, pull together." They hauled on the ropes and watched the sail unfurl. The canvass flapped in the offshore breeze, then filled out. As they tied off the lines, the ship began to pick up speed, cutting a smooth wake through the still waters of the harbour. Patris smiled encouragingly. "We'll make a crew out of you yet."

Alondo headed to the afterdeck, followed by Shann. She stood next to him, leaning on the stern rail. Already, the ships tied up at the quayside were growing smaller, but Shann fancied she could see a group of people gathered at their now-empty mooring. Above the quay, smoke was rising over the port city, a testament to their escape. Alondo looked like a lost gundir pup. She rubbed his back gently. "We'll be back. Lyall will see to it." He smiled at her gratefully and put an arm around her shoulder as they both watched Sakara receding into the distance. The ship began to rise and fall gently as it cleared the harbour and caught the swell of the open sea.

Setting its course eastward, the Annata's Reach sailed towards the Great Barrier of Storms, carrying on board five Kelanni, one Chandara and the fate of a world.

Chapter 30

The Aronak Sea by night. Ail-Mazzoth's pale pink light playing over the waves. And in the midst of the sea, the lights of a tiny vessel lost in the vastness. In the cramped forecastle, Shann, Lyall and Patris sat around a rough wooden table, picking over the remains of the evening meal. Shann was chewing on a black flatbread and washing it down with narrian wine.

Patris leaned back on his stool, and took a sip from his flagon. "I see you renamed the ship," he said conversationally.

Lyall looked up from his own drink. "You don't like the name?"

Patris shrugged, "She's your ship." He took another sip. "So...who is Annata?"

"She's a friend of ours," Lyall said.

"An old friend," Shann added.

Lyall shot her a warning glance. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

"Someone who has aided you on your journey, perhaps?" Patris probed.

The thief-sailor was a clever individual. Clever and perceptive. This was an interrogation, cloaked in the guise of pleasant conversation. They would need to be careful so as not to give too much away.

Lyall fielded the question. "Yes, although she is far away now. It may be a long while before we see her again."

Patris adopted a different tack. "By the way, how are your friends doing?"

"Keris has extensive injuries. Boxx is tending to her," Lyall sighed. "As for Alondo–well, I'm sure he will be all right, given time."

Not long after they had left the still waters of the harbour, the musician had fallen prey to a bad bout of seasickness. Shann had scarcely seen him above deck after that, and when she went to the stern castle, he was lying motionless on a bunk, his round face unnaturally pallid. He had not been able to keep anything down.

"Well, not everyone is cut out to be a sailor, I suppose," Patris said. "Now, Shann here–she seems to have taken to it right off. Are you sure you weren't born on board ship?"

Shann had to admit she had no idea where she was born. She could barely even remember what her mother looked like. Sometimes, she thought she could recall her mother's soothing voice, although it did seem to her that it sounded like Gallar, so maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She frowned. "I...don't think so."

Patris and Lyall both laughed. "Well, it doesn't matter." Patris said. "I'm just grateful to have such an able deck hand. In fact, I'm thinking of promoting you to first mate."

"What would that mean?" Shann asked.

"It would mean," Lyall said, "that you would be able to tell the rest of us what to do."

Her expression brightened. "I accept."

They all roared with laughter. Patris ran a hand through his shoulder length black hair. "Now that's settled, I should ask, where are we headed, exactly?"

"We sail due east," Lyall said.

"Well, you should know that there is nothing east of here other than a few islands, all of which are uninhabited as far as I am aware," Patris said. "Besides, if we stay on this heading, we will eventually run straight into the Great Barrier and we will have no choice but to turn. Even near the Barrier, the winds can be treacherous. You would be putting your ship and crew in unnecessary danger."

"We will not put you in danger–you have my word," Lyall said.

Patris bit his lip. "I could understand your reluctance to speak about your plans in Sakara. But now, here we are, in the middle of the Aronak Sea." He spread his hands wide. "Who am I going to tell?"

"That's true," Lyall agreed. "Nevertheless, you will be returning to Sakara, so it is safer both for you and for us if you cannot reveal our plans."

Patris' eyes narrowed. "Your words would seem to imply that I will not be accompanying you to your destination."

Lyall met his gaze squarely. "That's correct."

"You still do not trust me?"

Lyall shook his head. "It has nothing to do with trust." He paused to collect his thoughts "Each of us–myself, Shann here, Alondo, Keris and Boxx–each of us is a willing volunteer. Each of us knows the hazards involved and has agreed to accept the risks. Your interest is...financial. I appreciate all you have done for us, but it would be wrong for us to place you or the members of your thief co-operative in more danger than is necessary."

Patris gazed into his drink. "We have tended to avoid contact with the agents of the Prophet in Sakara. However, the situation in the city worsens day by day. Violent crime–even murder is on the rise. There are rumours that the Asoli are being paid to look the other way. Many believe it is only a matter of time before the Keltar are sent in to 'restore peace.' If that happens...then we will be in a fight for our very survival. That is why I agreed to aid you–not just for the money, but because I believe that in the end, people like you may be our only hope."

"If that happens, I'm afraid there may be little we can do to help you directly," Lyall said.

"You are not returning to Sakara?"

"It...seems unlikely," Lyall confessed.

"A pity," Patris said. "We could use people with your skills–breaking someone out of one of the Prophets safe houses–now that was impressive. Not to mention chasing me down in the streets after I had 'liberated' your coin purse." Laughter rippled round the table once more. "Well, wherever you are bound for, you should remember that the authorities in Chalimar are desperate to get their hands on you. Watch yourselves."

"We will, thank you," Lyall said.

Shann stood and gathered up half a loaf of flatbread and a carafe of wine from the table. "I'm going to see if I can get Alondo to eat anything."

Lyall smiled at her. "Good idea. Tell him I'll be along to see him myself, presently."

Shann opened the door to the forecastle and stepped out onto the deck. All was quiet save the lapping of the water and the creaking of the ship's hull, the sounds blending together like a lullaby. She walked towards the stern, enjoying the gentle caress of the night breeze against her cheek. At the entrance to the stern castle, she put her hand to the latch. Suddenly the door opened inwards of its own accord, and Keris stood in the doorway. She was dressed in a loose white night robe. Her black hair hung attractively about her shoulders in thick waves. Shann felt an irrational pang of jealousy. They stared at each other for a long moment.

Finally, Shann spoke up. "I...I was bringing these things for Alondo." Why am I justifying myself to this woman?

"I see," Keris' face was impassive. She made no attempt to get out of the way.

"How is he?" Shann asked.

"I'm not sure. Boxx says it can't do much to help." It felt bizarre that they should be standing there discussing Alondo's seasickness, when Keris' injuries had been far more severe. The bruising and the cuts and abrasions on the woman's face and neck seemed almost gone and her stance seemed more relaxed. Shann marvelled at the irony that Boxx could work miracles on internal and external wounds of that kind, but a simple upset stomach was beyond its capabilities.

"You seem a little better," Shann observed.

"I feel quite weak, but I am free of pain, thanks to Boxx. I do have a permanent reminder of my time as a guest of the Prophet's minions, however." She held up her right hand. Shann registered with shock that the end of her Ring finger had been cut off to the first joint. The injury had been hidden beneath her rough bandage. Shann fought down the sensation of nausea. "Unfortunately, Boxx can't replace a missing limb. Still, it serves as a reminder of my stupidity in allowing myself to get taken off the streets in the first place." She lowered her hand and concealed it in a fold of her robe, as if it were a secret shame. "I wanted to say...thank you for risking your life to rescue me."

Shann felt caught off guard. "I...I didn't do anything really."

"Your modesty is unnecessary. You have already proven your bravery on more than one occasion–like when you rescued Lyall from the Pits."

"But...you wouldn't let anyone go after him."

Keris looked down at the deck. "That was only because I was certain that he had perished, and I didn't want to risk anyone else. I was...gratified to have been proven wrong."

"But you didn't even try. You would have left him there to die."

"Look, Shann–"

"No, you look. Getting you out of that place was Lyall's idea, not mine. I went along with it because Lyall believes you are important to the success of this mission. Annata seems to trust you, as does Boxx, but that's only because they don't know who you really are."

Keris drew herself erect. "You know nothing about me, girl."

"You are Keltar, sworn to serve the Prophet."

"I was Keltar." Keris had a faraway look. "When I came to live at the keep I was young–younger than you are now. My ears were ringing with words like 'duty' and 'honour'. Mordal told me that I was special–that I had the strength and the ability to help people–to protect them, and to serve the Prophet's greater purpose for all Kelanni. 'The Unan-Chinneroth who ascends to the Heavens and returns. His ways are beyond our understanding.' We were told that that great purpose involved the extraction of lodestone in large quantities. So I dedicated myself honing my skills–to becoming the perfect Keltar.

"However, as time went on, I saw things–people being starved. Brutalized. Even murdered. I began to doubt my oath. Finally, when the Chandara activated the machine from the past and Annata appeared to me at the Great Tree, she told me of the Prophet's true intention. I did not want to believe it at first, but–well, it made so much sense after all the things I had witnessed. I knew in my heart that the woman spoke the truth. That was why I had to travel to Gort to deliver you, Lyall and Alondo from the trap that was waiting for you there. That's why I turned my back on the Keltar and was forced to slay the boy Nikome and Mordal, who had been more of a father to me than my own father."

Shann's face screwed up. "Do you expect me to feel sympathy for you?"

"I expect nothing. I have chosen my own path."

"What about all of your other crimes?" Shann demanded.

"Crimes?"

"Yes, crimes. What about all of the people you rounded up and sent to die in the ore camps? What about all of the families you broke up? The brothers and sisters that were parted from one another?" The parents you dragged away from their children? "What about all of that?"

"I don't have any answers for you, Shann. I hold myself responsible for a lot of things that happened. But I cannot change the past. I can only try and work for a better future–and to change the person I used to be."

Shann's eyes blazed. "You say you are no longer Keltar? Then what are you?" Keris pushed past Shann and strode off across the deck. "What are you?" Shann called after her.

Keris did not look back. "I am nothing."

~

A few minutes after Shann had left, Lyall made his excuses to Patris and exited the forecastle. Looking across the deck, he saw Shann and Keris in the shadow of the stern castle, deep in conversation. Perhaps they are working out their differences at last?

He decided to leave them to their discussion. Besides, he had another important task to perform. He climbed the ladder to the foredeck and walked slowly to the starboard rail. It was a beautiful night. A balmy breeze blew through the rigging. Waves lapped gently against the overlapping strakes. Sidelights were strung along the curve of the hull, reflecting over the water. Black clouds drifted lazily across a dull pink sky. Lyall leaned against the rail, lost in the view. Then he recalled the reason for his late night stroll. He raised his right hand to his mouth and spoke into the Ring in his forefinger.

"Oliah." The stone came to life, exhibiting its familiar green glow.

"Alondo, are you all right?" Oliah's silken voice was slightly distorted, but it was unmistakeably her.

"This isn't Alondo, this is Lyall."

"Where's Alondo?"

"He's...not feeling very well. Don't worry; it's nothing serious–just a bout of seasickness. It seemed to come on the moment we left the harbour. Boxx is caring for him and Shann just took him some food."

"Can I speak to him?"

"He's lying down right now. I promise, when he's feeling better I'll get him to Ring you."

"What about the others? How is Shann?"

"Shann is just fine. Patris is keeping her hard at work. He's a little put out because I won't tell him where we're going. I told him it was for his own protection, but I don't think he liked that answer."

"Maybe you should consider telling him?"

"No, I don't want to risk him turning the ship around."

"I doubt he would do that."

"I don't know–I think if I was in his boots and someone told me that we were going to attempt to sail this ship into the Great Barrier, I would think we had all gone mad. In any case, I have no intention of forcing him to come with us. I'm sure he will be more than happy when we cut him loose in the launch with a bag of astrias."

"What about Keris?"

"She seems to be up and about already, thanks to Boxx. In fact I saw Shann speaking with her, just a moment ago."

"Shann doesn't trust her."

"I know. I was hoping they could put that behind them. How are things back in Sakara?"

"The city was in uproar after you left. The official line is that a band of renegades led by a woman–a criminal from Chalimar–tried to set fire to the city and then escaped by ship. However, there are lots of rumours flying around about this woman–that the Prophet is in fear of her, that she has the strength of many men. They are calling her 'The Heroine of Gort,' saying that she attacked the garrison there single-handed. Chalimar has already tripled the bounty on her."

"I'm sure Keris will be delighted to hear that."

"When will you reach the Great Barrier of Storms?"

"Some time the day after tomorrow, according to Patris. If the wind holds, that is. We've been fortunate so far. Patris is worried about turbulence near the barrier, but I plan to have him on his way well before we encounter it."

"Lyall?" Her voice sounded suddenly fragile.

"Yes?"

"I'm worried about what will happen to Alondo. We talked about what you were planning to do and I agreed he should go along but the truth is I...I don't want him to go. I don't want to lose him, or Shann. I know I'm being selfish, but–"

"It's all right, Oliah. I already told them that they won't be coming with us."

"You did? But Alondo never said –"

"I only discussed it with them the night before we left. They were both still adamant about coming. I was going to insist when the news came about Keris' disappearance and–well, there just wasn't any opportunity for debate after that. I figured it didn't matter, because I could still send them back with Patris when the time came.

"Do you think Alondo will agree to being sent back?"

"Probably not. But I'll pick him up and throw him in the launch if necessary. I'm more concerned about Shann. She can be extremely stubborn when she wants to be. But I'll deal with that when the time comes. They will have more than enough food and water, and Patris and Shann are our two best sailors. They should be safely back in Sakara in a few days."

Lyall fancied he could sense the tension easing in her voice. "I don't know how to thank you. But...what about you and the others?

"Boxx is essential to Annata's plan and it will only deal with Keris, so she has to come. Besides, I suspect that there's nowhere in all of Kelanni that would be safe for her now. As for me–well I have my own reasons for doing this. Our method of traversing the Barrier is a good one–even Keris thinks it has a chance of success, and she is a born sceptic."

"What does Shann think?"

"I haven't told her the details, although it's partly based on her idea. I didn't want to worry her unduly. In any case, by the time we enter the Barrier, she will be on her way back to Sakara with the others.

"Remember, Oliah, if you don't hear anything after we have crossed over, it doesn't necessarily mean that there is anything wrong. It's quite possible that the Ring may not work from the other side. These are untested–"

A creak on the deck timbers behind him. Lyall tore the Ring from his finger and stuffed it into a pocket self-consciously. He turned to see Patris. How long have you been standing there?

"Who were you talking to?" Patris asked.

Lyall looked around; then smiled disarmingly. "No-one here but me."

~

Shann found life at sea exhilarating. She revelled in the rhythmic rise and fall of the waves, the smell of the sea in her nostrils, the cries of the birds that wheeled overhead, seeking out scraps of food. She liked nothing better than to climb up to the tiny crow's nest and view the ocean from far above. Whitecaps stretched to the far horizon on every side, so that it was easy to convince oneself that their little ship was the only thing left in the entire world.

She was sitting in her basket shaped perch atop the mast, when she saw it. A thin brown line between the blue-green sea and the blue and pink sky. She hollered down to the deck below. "Land–I see land." Patris and Lyall were the only ones on deck. They both turned their faces up to her. She pointed towards the southeast. "There."

She hopped out of the crow's nest and scurried down the rigging to join the other two. They were already at the gunwale, looking out at the direction she had indicated. Shann took a place beside Lyall. The brown line was a little less distinct from this vantage point, but was still visible. "What is it?" she asked.

"The Isle of Panna," Patris announced.

Panna...Panna...that name rang a bell somehow–from the tale Alondo had told about Captain Arval. "That was where Arval went to tame the three giant perridons," she recalled.

Patris chuckled. "You're a fan of the Arval stories, I see."

Lyall's sharp glance reminded her that she shouldn't give too much away. "Not really," she said. "But I know someone who is."

Patris lifted his head, sensing a change in the wind. He strode across the deck to the pillar which rose from the afterdeck and checked the binnacle into which the directional lodestone device was set. "I take it our course is still due east?" he called.

"Yes, if you please," Lyall said.

"Then I will need to adjust our heading." Patris began busying himself with the ship's tackle.

Shann looked up at Lyall "Maybe we should divert there and search for a couple of perridons?"

Lyall was still gazing at the island in the distance. "Don't worry, Shann. We will have our own 'birds' when the time comes."

Shann was about to ask for an explanation, when Patris yelled, "Hey 'first mate,' how about some help over here? Jump to it."

Soon Shann was lost in the minutiae of guiding their tiny vessel and Lyall's strange comment lay forgotten–lost in the vast emptiness of the Aronak Sea.

~

It was late in the morning of the third day when they first spotted the Barrier. At first it was nothing more than a lowering bank of angry clouds on the distant horizon. Slowly, it grew, occupying more and more of the eastern sky, dark and forbidding. Soon the wind started to pick up, causing the canvass to flap and buffeting the sides of their tiny vessel.

Lyall finished tying off a bowline and looked around the tiny vessel. Alondo and Boxx were at the ship's forward rail. Alondo was transfixed by the distant storms. He had finally emerged from the stern castle that morning, seeming to have found his sea legs at last, although he still looked a little pale. The rail was a little high for Boxx, who kept jumping up like a small child to get a view of the storm front. Keris was also above deck. She was seated on a crate on the afterdeck–off by herself as usual, checking her equipment. It appeared that she and Shann had not spoken since their conversation that first night at sea. Then the woman had seemed fragile. Vulnerable. Willing to talk. Now her inner strength had returned, and the shutters had gone up once more.

Lyall shook his head. Perhaps in the end it didn't matter. Soon they would be parting, perhaps forever: Shann sailing back to Sakara with Patris and Alondo; Keris accompanying him and Boxx towards–what? As the Great Barrier of Storms loomed ever closer, Lyall felt an odd sense of calm. If this was to be the end–the culmination of his life–then it seemed to him that it was a good one. It was perhaps fitting that the road from Persillan should end with him finally joining those who had died in a desperate effort to end tyranny. On the other hand, if they should by some miracle make it to the other side to continue the struggle, then maybe he could finally find some justification for his having survived when so many had not. Perhaps he might even discover finally what had happened to Aune.

He heard a voice calling his name–intruding into his private thoughts. Patris was standing before him. The man's lean face was etched with worry and he ran a hand through his hair as it was blown about by the gathering wind. "We have to change course. Now."

Lyall steeled himself. Time for Patris and the others to leave. As he opened his mouth, he was cut off by a cry from behind him. "A ship."

Lyall turned to see Keris on the afterdeck, pointing astern. He hurried across the deck and up the ladder, with Patris just behind him.

As they joined her, Keris pointed again urgently. There was no mistaking it. They were being pursued by a square rigged ship, perhaps three times the size of theirs. Already it was looming large on the horizon. With their attention focussed on the Great Barrier, they had failed to notice the larger vessel as it crept up on them. Lyall leaned over the stern rail, straining his eyes for a better view. His heart sank. Emblazoned on the foresail, Lyall could clearly see the three interlocking circles with the symbol of the flame riding high above them. The Three and the One.

The Keltar had found them.

Chapter 31

"Can we outrun them?" Lyall projected his voice at Patris, as the swirling wind tried to snatch it away.

Patris shouted back at him. "Can a single masted cog with a bilge keel outrun a three masted carrack in full sail? Not likely."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Lyall tried not to sound desperate.

"Perhaps we might–"

A distant thud. A whooshing sound. The water just off the stern exploded, drenching the three of them.

"Lodestone cannon," Patris yelled.

Shann's mouth was open. Seawater ran down her face. "What?"

"Lodestone cannon," Lyall said. "It uses a shaped charge, a bit similar to a grenade–Patris."

"Yes, yes. I'll try and run her as close to the Barrier as possible and track the storm front. It's risky and she'll be like a gudrun beast to handle, but the Prophet's ship will encounter the same problems. We'll see if her master has the guts to brave the storms. At the very least, it may buy us some time."

Another dull concussion sounded from the oncoming vessel. Seawater burst over the Reach's larboard rail.

"They have our range," Patris bellowed. "Quickly."

The three of them slid down the ladder and sprinted over the deck to where Alondo and Boxx were waiting.

"What's going on?" Alondo cried in alarm.

Lyall joined Patris and Shann as they fought to bring every scrap of canvass to bear to the wind. "A Prophet's ship is attacking us." He saw with dismay the frightened look on his friend's face. There was no way to lower the launch under these conditions.

A third boom sounded from the chasing ship. Lyall ducked down instinctively. Hot metal impacted the deck in a staccato rattle. When the sound died, Lyall looked up to see that their sail was peppered with several holes.

"Chain shot," Patris hollered. "They're not trying to sink us–they're trying to cripple us."

Before them, the Great Barrier roiled like nest of giant vipers. As the Reach heeled over in the gale, Patris sprinted to the rudder. Their ship turned to starboard and began to run before the storm's leading edge. Lyall and Shann trimmed the sail and fought to keep her course straight. Rain, now mixed in with the wind, lashed their faces as they worked. Lyall kept glancing aft. There was no doubt about it–in spite of their best efforts, the carrack was gaining on them, the symbol of the Prophet now clearly visible through the smoke rising from its forward mounted cannon.

Another round of chain shot tore into the rigging. One linked pair of half balls narrowly missed Shann. If we carry on like this, we'll be shot to pieces. The next volley reduced the canvass to tatters. The remnants of their once proud sail hung uselessly from the crosstrees. The deck was littered with splintered wood, tangled cordage and spent shot. The launch had a gaping hole in its side. Miraculously, no-one appeared to be injured. Patris was advancing toward him. Lyall made his decision. "Patris, strike what's left of the sail."

"Do you want me to signal our surrender?"

"Absolutely not," Lyall replied. "We're going through."

~

"What do you mean, 'going through'?" Patris demanded.

"I mean," Lyall met his eyes levelly, "we are going to cross the Barrier."

Rain had plastered Patris' shoulder length black hair to his head and was running down his olive face. His tail swished from side to side. "You can't be serious. It would be suicide. We don't even have a sail left to speak of."

"We won't need a sail."

Shann was standing beside Patris. He turned to the girl. "What's he talking about?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know," Shann confessed.

Keris, Alondo and Boxx had all converged to listen to the exchange taking place on the cluttered deck. Lyall fixed Shann with his intense blue eyes. "Do you remember that first morning back at the Calandra? It was you who came up with the idea of using lodestone."

"But Keris said–you agreed that it wouldn't work," Shann said.

"The method wouldn't work, but only because we couldn't secure a sufficient lodestone mass to push the vessel. But the idea–the idea is sound. When Alondo told how Captain Arval supposedly used flying perridons to pull his ship through the Barrier it got me to thinking. What if we were to install lodestone into the deck and then leap off while tethered to ropes? Maybe we could pull the ship in just the same way."

Wind gusted through the ragged remains of the sail, flapping like a round of applause. Shann put a hand to her head. "But...that wouldn't work either. If...if I were to push off from the ship, then the forward pressure from the lodestone in the deck would be matched by the backward pressure from the lodestone layer of my cloak. It...would be just as if I were to attach a line to the deck and pull on it–my pulling forward on the rope would be countered by my pushing backward with my feet on the deck. The ship wouldn't move."

Lyall and Keris looked at each other. "She thinks like a Keltar," Keris said.

It was intended as a compliment, but Lyall was certain that Shann would take it badly. He moved quickly to head off any clash between the two. "You're absolutely right, Shann. Action–reaction. But what would happen if I was to leap off and then retract the upper lodestone layer, whilst at the same time extending the bronze?

Shann was frowning in concentration. "The lodestone in the deck would still push me away, but the bronze in my cloak would pull on it." Shann looked up. "But would it be enough to move the ship?"

"I did some tests in Sakara," Keris replied. "The pull is small, but it accelerates with time. I am certain that two of us could do it." She turned to Lyall. "Three would be even better."

"How about it, Shann?" Lyall asked. "Will you help us?"

Shann nodded quickly. "I'll get my cloak." She ran off in the direction of the stern castle, dodging to avoid the debris that littered the deck.

"We haven't much time," Keris pointed out. "The Prophet's ship has ceased its bombardment. That means they must be getting ready to board us." She reached into the pack she carried and pulled out her cloak, shaking it free and securing the neck clasp. Lyall followed suit.

"What do you want the rest of us to do?" Alondo asked.

"You take the rudder and Boxx...well, just make sure it holds onto something," Lyall said.

"No." All eyes turned towards Patris. "Look, I don't pretend to understand what you people just said, but you can't take this ship in there. There are hurricane force winds and impenetrable seas, not to mention the fact that we don't even know if anything can survive beyond the Barrier."

Lyall tested his neck control. "Look, I was going to send you back to Sakara–Shann too. But the launch is too badly damaged. And we can't stay put–not with that thing out there."

Realisation dawned on Patris face. "You planned this all along, didn't you? You planned to take this ship into the Barrier. Why? What possible reason could you have?"

"I'm sorry. I don't have time to explain right now. But I won't sacrifice anyone else to the servants of the Prophet. You saw what they did to Keris."

"I don't care about that." Patris said. "I'd rather take my chances with them than face the Barrier."

Shann reappeared at the door to the stern castle clad in her flying cloak and hurried towards them. Keris faced Patris. "There's no time–they will be boarding us any moment now. We have to move."

"Look." Alondo was pointing up at the sky. Lyall followed the line of his finger. The hull of the carrack lowered over their ship now–a predator breathing down the neck of its helpless prey. A dark shape was hurtling across the threatening sky between the two vessels. It landed lightly on the afterdeck, the cloak settling about its shoulders. Keltar.

The creature walked slowly to the ladder but did not descend. Lyall saw clearly the bald head. The round face. The twisted smile of triumph. It looked down at them. "My name is Saccath."

"I know who you are," Keris said.

"Then you know why I am here, 'betrayer'. You will come with me."

Lyall stepped forward. "She's not going anywhere with you."

Saccath looked around the shattered deck, as the wind and rain continued to lash down. "Your pathetic ship is destroyed. You have no-where to go. Come with me and I will spare these others. Refuse and they will all die."

"I told you," Lyall said, "She's not going with you."

Saccath laughed without mirth. "This is the one who dresses as Keltar. The one who was bested back in Corte by Garai. Do you take your orders from this gundir now? Did you know that he already led one failed insurrection eleven turns ago? Led his people into death and then fled." He turned to face Lyall. "We have your sister in custody. Renounce this woman, and come with me and I will take you to see her."

Lyall's mind reeled with the news. Aune–Aune is alive. But could a Keltar's word be relied on? He shook his head. It did not matter. He could not–would not turn against his companions. If it were true–if she was indeed alive and in the hands of the Prophet–then he would find another way to free her.

Somewhere near the edge of his consciousness, he heard Keris respond. "Saccath, you have been betrayed, but not by me. The Prophet intends to destroy all Kelanni."

"Lies," Saccath spat. "You may have been able to convince that old fool Ferenek before he died, but you will never convince me. I am Keltar. The eyes and ears of the Prophet." He drew his diamond bladed staff from behind him. "In the name of the Three and of the One, you will come with me. Now."

He jumped from the stern castle to the deck in front of them. Keris and Lyall had their own staffs drawn and were standing their ground. Alondo and Boxx were backing away towards the bow. Shann, without a staff of her own, was casting about wildly.

Lyall called out to her. "Get back with the others."

He looked back to see Patris stepping forward, hands outstretched in capitulation. "I am not with these people, Keltar. They deceived me. I request the sanctuary of the Prophet and safe passage back to Sakara."

Saccath regarded him with a mixture of annoyance and disdain; then swung his staff. The wood connected with the side of Patris' head and the thief collapsed to the deck in a heap. He did not move.

The three cloaked figures began circling one another slowly, like caged animals.

"The Thief Guild," Saccath sneered. "They would betray their own family for a fraction of an astria. A slip of a girl who also likes to dress up as Keltar, a fellow with an odd hat and a Chandara, of all things. Why would you ally yourself with such people?"

Saccath put one hand to his neck and blipped the control on his flying cloak. "Interesting. I detect a sizeable source of refined lodestone on this vessel. You will tell me its purpose." Keris swung her staff at Saccath's head. He sidestepped neatly and she grunted as her diamond blade sliced through empty air. "Very well. We will do this the hard way."

Saccath turned and ran towards the forecastle; then flared his cloak, and leaped from the deck, pushing off the lodestone in the ship's bow and hurtling towards Lyall and Keris. They scattered in opposite directions, tumbling beyond the reach of Saccath's staff. The bald Keltar touched down once more and began advancing on Keris. "You killed Nikome and then our master, Mordal."

Keris managed to get her feet under her and held her staff out defensively. Her voice was cracking. "I had no choice. They attacked and wouldn't listen. Just as you are refusing to listen. Wh–why would I be doing this if I didn't believe it to be true?"

Lyall scrambled towards Saccath and made a thrust with his staff. Saccath knocked it away contemptuously; then in a single fluid movement, raised his own staff over his head and brought it down on Keris' upheld staff with great force. Keris was sent sprawling to the deck once more, as the sound of clashing darkwood reverberated around the ship.

Saccath walked towards her slowly, swishing his tail. "Motives–who cares for motives? Small children, perhaps. Or fools like these." He took in her companions with a wave of his hand. "You are Keltar. You betrayed your master and your oath. For that, you must pay." He raised his staff once more.

Lyall was readying himself to lunge once more at Saccath's back when he registered a blur of motion above him. A fourth cloaked figure came flying feet first, impacting the small of Saccath's back. Shann. The bald Keltar grunted, lurched forward and fell face first onto the deck. Keris rolled out of the way and sprang to her feet. Shann joined her, so that the two stood side by side. The girl was brandishing an oar as if it were an oversized staff.

Keris flexed her hands on her staff in readiness. "Using lodestone and bronze layers to effect a downward thrust. Very good. Who taught you that?"

"You did–at the tower–remember?" Shann replied.

Keris smiled wryly. "You learn quickly."

"You saved me using that particular technique," Shann said. "Now we are even."

Saccath got to his feet. His eyes were lit with fury. "Th –that will cost you your life, little girl." He turned and ran towards the ship's bow. Going for the lodestone in the foredeck. Standard Keltar to Keltar tactics. Whoever dominates the lodestone has a decisive positional advantage in height and power. Up to now, Saccath had not even bothered with tactics. Lyall remembered telling Shann that the Keltars' greatest flaw was their overconfidence. Turns out we are not quite the pushover you thought.

Lyall pelted after him, followed by Keris and Shann. He wanted to order Shann again to stay back, but she had already proved her bravery and competence beyond anything he could have expected–and they were going to need every advantage they could get. It was at that moment that he spotted something out of the corner of his eye–something that gave him renewed hope.

"All three of us–mannatar gambit. Sting and retreat," Lyall called as he ran.

"He will be familiar with that," Keris pointed out.

"Yes, but I have a surprise planned," Lyall said, "one that isn't covered in shassatan."

Keris shot him a look but said nothing.

Saccath reached the foredeck and fully extended his cloak, hurtling upwards. He was closely followed by Keris, then Lyall and Shann. As the four of them met in midair, the deck rang with an array of blows.

Shann was struggling with her unwieldy oar, warding off Saccath's attacks as best she could. Suddenly, he whirled his diamond blade and sliced her oar in two, narrowly missing her hand. She threw the paddle half away and gripped the handle end, which was more attuned to her size.

As they sank back downwards, Keris pulled away from the fray, dived towards the foredeck and then immediately pushed off from the lodestone again. As she passed Shann, she pushed off the upper lodestone layer of the girl's cloak to gain an extra boost in height. Keris shot into the air whilst Shann was knocked flat against the deck. Using the poorly armed girl as a lodestone baseline made perfect sense as a tactic, but Lyall had a feeling that Shann wouldn't see it that way. There would be time enough later to debate such minutiae–if they all made it through this alive.

Keris reached the apex of her leap and began to drop rapidly, angling towards Saccath, who was now rising to meet her. He had read her actions and was braced for her assault. As they met, there was a concussion of wood against wood. They strained against each other–a contest of strength and wills.

Shann was still getting to her knees–the breath had been knocked out of her. Lyall glanced sideways towards the deck–it seemed that his little surprise was ready. Time to end this.

The rain continued to pelt down as Lyall launched himself upward once more. He made no attempt to engage the Keltar. Instead he called out to Keris, "Mannatar–withdraw." Keris seemed not to hear as she pressed her attack. She and Saccath were beginning to sink slowly towards the deck. "Withdraw." She disengaged herself and pulled away. Saccath swung his staff, the diamond blade slashing her arm as she fell. Lyall backed off, leaving Saccath alone in midair. "Now."

Instantly, the air around Saccath congealed and he was struck with a giant invisible fist. The bald Keltar's mouth opened as he was hurled backwards and disappeared over the ship's prow. Lyall landed next to Shann and helped her to her feet. They both made their way to the forward rail where Keris was already standing, her long dark hair blowing about her face in the strong wind. Lyall leaned over the rail and scanned the water. The sea was slate grey, strong winds plucking spray from the choppy waves. Of Saccath, there was no sign.

"Is he gone?" The three cloaked figures at the rail turned to see Alondo standing before them. He had slung his vortex arm behind him. Boxx was by his side–bobbing up and down in curious fashion.

"It would seem so," Lyall replied. "I'm sorry you had to do that, but we had no choice."

"Well, I for one won't miss him." Alondo grinned through the pelting rain.

"Impressive," Keris said. "I suppose we should call that the 'Alondo gambit.'" She walked past Alondo and carefully picked up something from the deck, holding it reverently. Saccath's staff. Dropped in his final moments of panic. She walked over to Shann and held the staff out to her. The girl looked distinctly self-conscious with everyone looking at her. "You fought bravely," Keris declared. "This is yours by right–to replace that which was lost." Lyall and Alondo both nodded their assent. Shann reached out and took hold of the staff as if she was expecting it to bite her at any moment.

Lyall suddenly remembered something. "Patris."

"I checked him–he's alive," Alondo smiled again. "Maybe we should throw him overboard so he can keep his 'friend' company?"

Lyall looked at him disapprovingly. "He didn't ask to be in this situation. I was the one who decided that we should be less than honest with him about the true purpose of this voyage. If anything, the fault is mine."

"What do you want us to do with him?" Alondo asked.

Lyall looked up at the carrack, its sails still towering over their ship's stern. The shipmaster was no doubt already speculating at how events had played out over here–debating over what should be his next move. There was not much time.

"You and Boxx get him into the launch. Keris, Shann–let's get this ship moving."

~

Shann stood on the foredeck of the Reach, fumbling at the straps on the harness that now enveloped her shoulders and upper torso. Her fingers felt numbed by the constant wind and rain. Lyall, who had already completed his adjustments, came over to help her. Keris stood a short way off, her own harness tethered to the iron rings which had been set into the deck for this very purpose. Waiting patiently.

Lyall smiled at Shann encouragingly, as he checked her over. "You understand how to do this?"

Shann fought back the feeling of being patronised. "Leap off using lodestone. Then retract the upper lodestone layer and extend bronze."

"Correct. However, it's important that the three of us act in concert, so that we pull at the same time. We leap together. Then extend bronze together on my signal, all right?"

Shann nodded. As usual, she found his intense blue eyes reassuring. She wanted to ask him about Saccath's taunts concerning events at Persillan and about his sister, but this was clearly neither the time nor the place. Keris was standing, listening to every word, and she had no wish to embarrass him. Besides, Lyall was right–getting the ship underway was their priority right now.

She and Keris took up positions to Lyall's right and left. "Ready?" he called. "Go."

They ran a few steps towards the ship's prow, extended their cloaks and leaped into the space above the deck. Just like the three perridons in Arval's tale, Shann mused. As the line went taut, she felt the strain of the harness against her shoulders. She looked across and saw the others alongside her, suspended in midair and raised her hand to her neck control, awaiting the signal from Lyall.

"Now."

As she withdrew the lodestone and simultaneously extended her bronze, she felt a subtle change of pressure on her harness. For an eternity nothing happened. Then a shout from below. It was Alondo. "She's moving." He ran towards the stern, climbed the ladder to the afterdeck and took up position at the ships rudder. Boxx scampered after him.

Slowly, determinedly, Annata's Reach came about and headed into The Great Barrier of Storms.

~

It was unlike anything Shann had ever experienced before. The colossal tempest assailed her senses. Rain lashed against her face, obscuring her vision. Cracks of blue lightning blinded and deafened her. Wind buffeted her small body like a dozen mailed fists. Before long, it felt to her as if she were surviving on willpower alone.

It was impossible to tell if they were making any progress. Beneath them, the Aronak Sea lifted up their tiny ship on waves the size of mountains before dropping them just as suddenly into valley-like troughs in between. She fancied she could hear Lyall yelling encouragement, but the maelstrom immediately ripped up his words and threw them away contemptuously.

Above the cacophony of sound, Shann had the impression of a high pitched whine below. She glanced down to see Boxx on the foredeck. It seemed to be pointing aft. She hazarded a look over her shoulder. Through the mist and rain she saw the unmistakeable shape of the carrack. Sails trimmed to beat against the gale. Bearing down on them.

A sudden concussion–but this time it was not lightning. The sea burst ahead of them as the lodestone cannon overshot its mark. Again Lyall shouted something. She could not make out what he was saying, but she got the message clear as crystal. The Prophet's ship was no longer trying to cripple their vessel. It was trying to sink her.

There was another impact just off their larboard quarter. Shards of timber blew out as their ship listed violently to starboard, then righted itself. The wooden hull creaked in protest. Lyall shouted and pointed downwards.

Shann nodded and adjusted her neck control, withdrawing the bronze and partially extending her lodestone layer so that she drifted downwards to where Boxx was waiting patiently. As her boots made contact with the rain-slicked deck, she was already tearing at the straps of her harness. She tore it free, letting it fall to the deck, and raced to the port rail, with Boxx behind her. Leaning over the side, she saw shattered timbers floating on the sea. The side of the ship was now marked by a dark gash. They were holed just above the waterline.

Shann had barely had a moment to survey the damage when she heard a loud retort followed by a terrible rending of wood and canvass. As she peered into the mist and spray, she saw the pursuing vessel heeled violently over to larboard. The titanic storms had slapped it like a petulant child, toppling the mainmast and snapping the mizzen mast in two. The flame symbol of the Prophet still fluttered boldly as the ship was blown onto its side by the howling winds. Crewmembers jumped or were thrown into the turbulent waters. Shann realised with a sickening feeling that there was nothing she could do to save them. Slowly, the Prophet's ship began to capsize.

As she watched the death throes of the carrack, Shann found that she was unable to tear her eyes away. The stern was gradually swallowed by the enveloping waters, causing the prow to rise up in one final gesture of defiance before finally slipping beneath the waves. In a few moments, the sea had closed over the once proud vessel, so that there was nothing to mark its passing.

Shann jerked herself back to reality. They had to do something about the breach in their hull, or the Reach would soon be joining the other vessel at the bottom of the sea. She started back to where Lyall and Keris were still straining, pulling their battered cog through the storms. Then she saw it. A shaft of light burst through the whirling clouds, revealing a sliver of azure blue sky beyond, like a flash of hope. Suddenly an immense wave crashed against the starboard side of the ship. The deck lurched under her and she was flung backwards in the flood of seawater. Boxx was tumbling towards the ship's rail. Shann lunged at the creature, grabbing it round its midriff just as a second wave burst over the side. She was hurled back again. Then the world exploded as her head hit the rail and she was tossed over the side of the ship, still clutching the Chandara. Shann experienced an instant of free-fall before hitting the water with a splash. Her ears were instantly muffled as she felt herself sinking below the waves, and gradually her consciousness slipped away.

~

It began with a merest suggestion of warmth. Slowly, the suggestion became a sensation and the sensation moved outwards from its birthplace. Spreading. Growing. Its tendrils insinuated themselves, enlivening and animating all that they touched. Slowly the warm feeling changed colour and intensified, becoming...pain. Slowly, determinedly, Shann opened her eyes.

There was a round head above her. Its eyes were closed and its mouth quivered oddly. The head had a name. "Boxx."

The creature opened its eyes and the sensation of warmth faded. "You Are Awake," it said.

Shann's head felt muzzy. Her back ached and she realised she was lying on something hard. She tilted her head to her left. Smooth round stones stretched away into the distance. There was the sound of water, lapping gently. A beach. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again.

"Wh-where is this?"

"This Is Beyond."

"Beyond the Great Barrier?"

"Yes, Beyond."

"Lyall...Alondo...where are they?"

"Gone."

"The ship?"

"It Is Gone."

Shann's mind kicked in, replaying her most recent memories. They were pulling Annata's Reach through the storm barrier–the other ship fired–they were hit–she saw the Prophet's ship go down in the storms–a wave struck them–she clung to Boxx to stop him being swept overboard–then...what?

She struggled to sit up. Her salt-stained clothes had partially dried in the warmth of the suns and they felt stiff.

"How did I get here?"

"The Tree–It Bore Us."

It indicated a large timber laying half out of the water–from the Reach's smashed hull. She got to her feet. Her muscles protested loudly, but she ignored them. The sky looked peculiar–a deep cerulean blue, unbroken, save for a few wisps of cloud. Ail-Mazzoth was gone–lost somewhere beyond the distant horizon, where the Great Barrier brooded like an angry frown.

She turned and walked up the stony beach. Ail-Kar was chasing Ail-Gan towards a line of hills to the east. The beach gave way to a shelf of grey rock, strewn with boulders. There were strange patches of white powder on the ground. Shann bent down to touch one. It felt cold–colder than anything she had ever felt before. Curiously, she scooped up a little of the powder and held it in her hand. It seemed to be made up of tiny crystals. She watched in fascination as the crystals turned to...water. She raised her hand to her mouth and allowed the drops to fall on her tongue. They were deliciously cool. She scraped up a handful of the stuff, ignoring the growing numbness in her fingers. Soon, she had slaked her thirst.

Boxx had climbed onto a small boulder and was watching her patiently. As the suns began to set, she felt the air grow colder. Shann began to shiver. The light was fading rapidly, and the sky was gradually turning darker and darker, blue into black. Suddenly, a bright point appeared. But it was not one of the streaks of light that appeared regularly over the skies of her home. It hung motionless overhead. Shann gasped as another appeared near it...and then another. Soon the blackened sky was filled with twinkling points of light, like diamonds on velvet, filling her vision. The words of Alondo's tale back at the Calandra came back to her. "It was a land of the darkest dark, where the sky is bright, but there are no suns." Her mind reeled. It was true–Arval had been here.

She turned to Boxx. The Chandara was perched on its rock, its upturned face illuminated by the myriads of tiny lights. "What are they?" she asked.

Boxx's high pitched voice was charged with reverence. "They Are Called Stars."

— End of Book One —

