Water dripped from his nostrils, hair and chin. He looked so ridiculous that she snorted. He cracked a little, tossing a scoop of water which only dewed her hair. Tiaan attacked him with both hands. Water went everywhere. He splashed her face and this time the mask cracked in two. He whooped. She laughed aloud, going two to his one, until a particularly energetic blow slid her off his arm and she went under. Tiaan did not have time to panic, for he caught her straight away, lifting her out and holding her as if she were a fragile toy.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Of course,’ she said gaily.

‘It’s late. We’d better go.’

The moment was broken and she was sorry about that, for something had changed between them. They were halfway up the winding track when Tiaan noticed a circling speck, high above. It could have been an eagle but she did not think so. ‘Gilhaelith! What do you think that is?’

He stared upwards, shading his eyes with long, knuckly fingers. ‘I’d say,’ he said slowly, ‘that it is a lyrinx.’

‘Is it watching us?’

‘I think so.’

‘Why would a lyrinx be watching Nyriandiol?’

‘Sulphur is needed for the war. It would inconvenience humanity if they had to obtain impure stuff from further away.’

‘Will they attack, do you think?’

‘I doubt it. Despite the war in Almadin, enemy territory is a long way from here. Even if they took this place they could not hold it, for the scrutators have a mighty army in Borgistry. No, they’re just spying.’

‘Could they recognise me from that height?’ she asked anxiously. Since Kalissin, she lived in fear of being used for flesh-forming again.

‘Lyrinx sight is not as good as ours in daytime, but best cover yourself in case it comes lower.’ He gave her a scarf to wind around her face.

The donkey grunted and groaned all the way up. The fractured rock and ash kept sliding beneath its weight. Once, the poor beast lost its footing and would have fallen, had not Gilhaelith steadied it.

‘The poor thing,’ said Tiaan. ‘It feels wrong to be on its back, doing nothing while it struggles so hard.’

‘It’s earning its keep, as we all must do,’ said Gilhaelith.

‘I’m not earning mine!’ she muttered.

‘Work hard; master your Art. We’ve little time left.’

Tiaan had been working hard, but a prentice would have spent years on crystals alone; she’d had a scant week. Even allowing for her experience it was no way to learn the Secret Art, much less master it. But the war, the world, her enemies would not wait.

Alie and Gurteys stood by the front door, and both frowned when they saw the state of Tiaan’s gown. She ignored their unfriendly glances. Did they think she was trying to take Gilhaelith away from them?

That night she drove herself harder than usual. She could not bear being dependent. It reminded her of her mother.

The next day Gilhaelith returned Tiaan to her attic hiding place as a local warlord appeared unannounced. He pretended to be checking on an order of brimstone, but as his eyes darted all around and his army of retainers wandered where they were not supposed to, clumsily questioning Gilhaelith’s servants, it was clear that he was really looking for the thapter, and Tiaan. Whether for himself, or as a paid informant to Vithis, it did not matter. Tiaan shivered all the while he was there.

Once he had gone the lesser servants, led by Gurteys, stood around talking in low voices, after which they sent a deputation to Gilhaelith. Tiaan was not privy to what was discussed, though afterwards he was unusually silent and distant. She gathered that her presence, and the thapter, threatened everyone.

As she was wheeling down the hall late that night, something struck her painfully on the left ear. It felt like the handle of a broomstick. By the time she recovered and heaved the chair around, the culprit had disappeared in the darkness.

She did not call for a servant to help her to bed; Tiaan felt too afraid. Fortunately, when she was resigned to spending the night in her chair, Gilhaelith came by and lifted her into bed. Her arms were not yet strong enough to do it for herself. She resolved to work on that.

Later, brooding in the darkness, she became aware of an unpleasant smell, like week-old fish. Every time she moved, it grew stronger. Tearing the covers back she dragged herself to the far end. A large and extremely rotten fish had been wedged between the mattress and the end of the bed. Scooping the slimy creature up in one arm, she tossed it out the window. The stench lingered all night.

The unpleasantness, which had begun with the women, soon spread to the male servants, all except Nixx, Foreman Mihail, and Fley. Most of the servants just shunned her, but Gurteys and her friends subjected her to all kinds of torments, including abandoning her in the privy for hours. Tiaan might have spent all day there had Gilhaelith not come looking for her.

Gurteys made an excuse, which Gilhaelith accepted. He took no interest in the servants and had no idea what was going on. Tiaan kept her silence. She had never been one to tell tales. Besides, she understood why they were doing it. They were terrified that Vithis would find her hiding here and put the lot of them to the sword.

Two days later Gilhaelith tightened the last bolt of the walker and tossed his wrench onto the table. ‘It’s done!’

Tiaan wheeled herself across the tiled basement floor. The walker resembled a four-legged spider and she wasn’t sure she wanted to get inside. It would be like being part of a machine. On the other hand, she would not be quite so helpless.

She circled away, going round and round the thapter. Its black metal skin was stacked against the far wall, exposing a mess of mechanical innards. It looked as if it would never move again.

From here, Tiaan could feel the pull of the amplimet, which was back in its cavity. She had not touched it in ages. She occasionally felt twinges of longing for it, though Tiaan was not sure if that was withdrawal. Something had definitely changed since she’d used it in the port-all to create the gate. Not having touched the crystal since she came here, its pull was fading. She would never be free of it but she could, if she so chose, have left it behind. That was just as well since it now belonged to Gilhaelith. She had used her hedron in the controller of the walker.

She longed to be back in the thapter, to soar carefree through the sky. The freedom of the air meant so much more, now that she lacked mobility on the ground. But she had to learn to walk before she could fly – first the repairs must be completed. Then a way must be found to tame, or at least shackle, the treacherous amplimet.

Tiaan had devoted much thought and experimentation to finding a replacement for it, but had found no other crystal that would allow her to draw upon the strong force required for flight. For the time being, she was bound to use the amplimet. Tiaan hated being reliant on it, and it bound her to Gilhaelith too, which did not please her. She liked him now, but since he did not trust her, she was not going to trust him. Heaving the wheels so hard that they spun in place, she headed for the walker.

Shortly, held securely in a webbing of leather and canvas straps, she gripped the controller arm with her right hand and the metal frame with her left. Emptying her mind, Tiaan mentally stroked the hedron into life. The field appeared in her inner eye, here a wavering aurora of pale yellow surrounded by cream, and further off, another wobbling yellow globe. It was rather like a double-yolker egg. Identifying a darker whirlpool, Tiaan caught it as it drifted by, traced a path through ethyric space and tugged gently. Power poured into the crystal and the walker took off with a jerk, its foot pads scraping on the floor. One limb went one way, its mate the other. The legs splayed and it staggered sideways like a crab, tilting from side to side.