Tiaan told Ryll about the incident, though not about the impulses it had put into her head via the helm. She did not want him to know that – he might be even more pleased with his creation.

The following morning she woke with a streaming nose and a throat so sore that she was unable to eat. She was confined to bed; there was no possibility of working.

Three days later, when she returned to work, Ryll’s creature had grown to twice its previous length. It had a body the size of a small house cat, longer and thinner legs, and segmented armour plating through which the spikes grew. A reinforced cage was required to contain it.

‘It’s going wonderfully well,’ Ryll exulted as she took her place on the stool. ‘Come see.’

She did not move.

‘Come on, Tiaan.’ He took her hand and pulled. Her reluctant feet dragged across the floor.

The creature fell into a crouch, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on her. It began to hiss. The flattened spines erected and the neck skin inflated into spiked rings.

She stopped dead. It was trying to get at her mind and it felt stronger now. Had she been wearing the helm, Tiaan was not sure she could have resisted it. Hungry! was a whisper inside her head.

Ryll urged her forward by the elbow. She allowed herself to be drawn closer. No harm could be done to her while he was here. As Tiaan took the last step the creature launched itself at the bars. The cage, which had no bottom, rocked and might have toppled had not Ryll slammed a fist on it. The creature twisted and flashed for the opening but the side came down, pinning it to the bench by the tip of one spine.

Pulling away, it flung itself from one side of the cage to the other, letting out ear-piercing squeals of rage and frustration. It attacked the bars with its teeth, breaking several, then just as suddenly sat on what passed for haunches, staring at Tiaan. The look in its eyes made her catch her breath.

‘It’s a wild thing!’ Ryll scratched his cheek cheerfully.

She was backing away when the animal protruded a rolled blue tongue through warty lips and squirted something at her. The fluid struck her brow, eyebrow and left eyelid, and immediately began to sting and blister.

She cried out, vainly trying to wipe the clinging, noisome stuff away. Ryll bounded across the room and heaved half a bucket of water at her face. The next second she was hanging upside down, her ankle clutched in his hand, while he scooped water and washed the poison off.

In a few minutes it was gone, though where the venom had landed was covered in fluid-filled blisters and the hairs of her eyebrow were falling out. Ryll sent a guard to her room for Tiaan’s pack. She changed her clothes, washed the contaminated ones and spread them on the warm floor to dry. They continued their work.

‘I’m afraid of this creature,’ she said to Ryll that evening. ‘It hates living things.’

‘The rrhyzzik and snizlet aren’t completely integrated. They’re fighting each other; that’s why its behaviour is so odd.’

It’s more than odd, she thought. It’s an obscenity, and I helped to make it. ‘What if … you can’t fix it? What if it turns on you?’

‘Me?’ He laughed. ‘That little thing! I’d kill it and start again. It will be easier next time.’

She said nothing. If only she had pretended to be stupid from the beginning, this could never have happened.

An hour later the creature collapsed and began to twitch. The twitching became an epileptic thrashing that grew more violent every second.

‘What is it?’ Tiaan whispered. The sight was unnerving.

‘Something has gone wrong with its brain,’ Ryll replied. ‘I’m not sure I can fix it.’ He seemed more uncertain than usual, not a reassuring sign. ‘I don’t understand what the problem is.’

‘Then let it die!’ She prayed that it would, swiftly.

His face and throat went black, then green, then white. Was it anguish, resignation or resolve? Even after all this time she could seldom read his skin-speech.

‘It’s so close,’ he whispered. ‘Seventy years we’ve worked on this project. I know I can do it! Surely one more day will be enough.’ His forehead blushed red and he seemed to make up his mind. ‘Make the aura again. I have an idea.’

They went back to work, Ryll flesh-shaping the creature’s brain, working in ways she could never understand, while she poured power into the aura around the cage.

He began to look haggard and baggy again. ‘I need more, Tiaan,’ he said in a cracked whisper.

‘I can’t safely give you more.’

‘Then do it unsafely! I’m nearly there. I can’t stop now.’ There was a reckless gleam in his eyes.

Her head was burning, a bad sign. ‘I’m afraid.’

‘I’ll protect you. Do it!’

How could anyone protect her from what she was afraid of? There was no protection. Setting the helm more tightly on her head, Tiaan tuned the amplimet to the looping fields surrounding the spire.

There was a barrier beyond which she dared not cross. Tiaan could feel the energy there, unlimited amounts of it, a great, worldwide field intersecting with smaller fields surrounding the spire. How to draw from it without taking too much?

As she considered what to do, Ryll let out a chicken-like squawk and crashed to the floor, where he began to twitch. This turned into a violent, uncoordinated thrashing. Had he driven himself over the edge, or had the creature taken over his mind? Should she stop, or keep going? What if she was just feeding power to the animal? Surely Ryll could stand more than it could. But could she?

Sensing out a minor loop of the field, she tapped it and a flood of power surged into her. Too much. Her head felt boiling hot; she grew faint and had to hold herself up with her arms.

Then, ever so slowly, a block began to dissolve, like a rock-salt door in the path of a flood. It softened, pinholed in the middle, and the current tore through it.

‘Yes!’ Ryll roared, kicked both legs in the air and lay still.

The creature screamed, the sound reminding Tiaan of a woman who had gone insane in the breeding factory. The little beast convulsed and tried to tear the spikes off its tail. Colours chased themselves across it.

Tiaan pulled off the helm. The flow of power ceased. She wobbled across to Ryll, thinking him dead. Strangely, that bothered her. They had been together for over three months, and in spite of everything, she liked him.

His lips had coloured an oily green, the rest of his skin fading to grey. He was breathing. She sat by him, wondering if she should run for help. He did not look unconscious; more like asleep. The creature lay on its back, legs spread like a dead cat, though it was also breathing.

Was this her chance? She staggered to the door. It was locked and her fingers weren’t strong enough to work the fingerlock. She pounded on the door but it made little sound on the solid metal.

Tiaan went back to the bench. Ryll and the creature lay as before. There was nothing she could do. Taking up the globe, she saw that it was bent out of shape. Tiaan got out her toolkit and began to reconstruct it. The time passed quickly. It was good to be working with her hands again. She had not realised how much she’d missed that. When the job was done she lay on the floor and dozed.

It was early morning when she woke and went to check on Ryll. He opened his eyes, giving her a warped smile. ‘You saved my life!’ His voice was a cracked rasp.

‘A life for a life,’ she replied more boldly than she felt. ‘I hope you remember that.’

‘I will.’

He looked across at the cage. Lyrinx smiles were always disturbing but this one showed more tooth than most. ‘I believe we’ve done it, Tiaan.’

She did not respond.

‘The snizlet and rrhyzzik have melded into one.’

The backs of her hands prickled. ‘I only did it to save you; and myself,’ she muttered.