What was she doing wrong? The Aachim had talked about this aspect of geomancy but she had not understood what they were saying. Perhaps she was not meant to draw power by the sub-ethyric path, but via the hyperplane. In that case, how?

Tiaan tried to return to the state where her inner vision caught glimpses of the hyperplane but of course it did not come. She leaned back, more drained than usual. Foolish to think that she could learn a new Art with so little instruction.

Lacking the energy to take off the helm, Tiaan nibbled the corner off a food cake and tried to take a sip from her flask. The drink was frozen solid; the metal stuck to her lips. She let the flask fall. Her head sank. As Tiaan drifted towards sleep, circles and segments began to float through her inner eye.

It was the hyperplane! Bringing up the field of the shear zone, she searched for a path through the hyperplane. It was like trying to trace the way through a shifting maze. Things were there one second and gone the next. Then, for the barest instant, she saw a tiny, thread-like path and snatched at it. The amplimet lit up and the globe grew warm under her fingers, blessed warmth such as she’d never thought to feel again. But it was not enough.

She lost the path but found another and took a trickle more power. Deep in the mountain the veins began to shear, one by one. The ledge gave the faintest little tremor. The wires were hot now. Not painfully hot; deliciously so. Tiaan rubbed the globe over her face and ears, but it soon began to cool. More power was needed. She drew harder and again felt that little tremor, that heat. Taking off her boots, she put her toes in through the wires.

After each attempt she warmed herself and rested before trying again. But that kind of warmth could not last here – the cold overwhelmed it. What she needed was the warmth of a bonfire, not a teacup, though it was impossible to pull such power through tiny paths. She went hunting for a bigger one. Tiaan knew what she was looking for this time.

There it was, a broad pathway. She drew power as hard as she possibly could and suddenly the globe was too hot to hold. Smoke curled up from the collar of her coat. Tiaan beat out a little smouldering patch.

Under the mountain, the webbing of veins across the fault snapped and the entire shear zone, three leagues long, unzipped. The marble side moved down, the granite up by the width of a hand. Not much, but the energy released was colossal. The whole mountain shook, radiating shockwaves in all directions.

The world seemed to turn inside out. Heat blasted from the globe. It was as if she had walked past the open door of one of the manufactory’s furnaces. Orange streamers radiated out in all directions, ablating the snow away in a perfect sphere, as though washed out by boiling water. At a distance of several spans the surface froze as clear as glass. Tiaan opened her eyes, astounded at what she had done. Multi-coloured reflections sparkled off the ice. It was beautiful.

The mountain settled back in place and above her the snow began to flow like a white mudslide. It was little more than a bulge at first, but in a minute the whole side of the mountain was in motion. Inside her bubble the avalanche began as a whisper that swelled to a roar, louder than anything she had heard in her life. The snow layers sloughed away, one by one, and in places the weathered rock as well.

The stone at her back vibrated wildly. Tiaan held the hot globe and helm to her chest. The layers of the avalanche thundered over the ledge above her, plucking at her ice bubble and making a sound like an organ pipe. The surrounding snow was torn away, until with a shudder the slide had gone by, carrying its incomprehensibly huge load of snow, ice, rock, and an occasional tree, down until it half filled the valley bottom.

Silence. Tiaan opened her eyes, scarcely able to believe that she had survived. It was daytime, for she could see though the thick sphere of ice as if it were window glass. A wintry sun hung low in a clear sky. The storm had gone. Her sphere clung to the underside of the ledge like a soap bubble. Below and above were bare rock, a steep slope.

Minis, wonderful Minis, had saved her after all. Her heart swelled with love for him.

‘Minis?’

The response seemed more distant than before. Tiaan, you’re alive! We thought…

‘There was an avalanche, but I survived it. What must I do? Tell me how to help you.’

It may be too late. He held a rag over his nose. The eruptions grow ever worse.

‘Anything!’ She was terrified that Minis would vanish before she ever met him.

Ah, Tiaan, you love too deeply and you trust too much. But if you would repay your debt, there is one way…

She was conscious of the debt and wanted to repay it. It was a sacred obligation. Even so, his use of the word shook her.

‘Whatever it takes!’

Have you heard of a place called Tirthrax?

‘Of course!’ Tirthrax was the tallest and most famous peak in the Great Mountains, and therefore in the entire world. Some said in all the Three Worlds, though Tiaan knew not if that was true. Being interested in numbers, especially large ones, she knew that the monster peak was more than eight thousand spans high, or sixteen thousand paces, not that height was ever measured in paces.

And do you know that some of my people, the Aachim, once built a great city inside the mountain?

‘I know a little of the Histories,’ she said cautiously. ‘I know that Aachim slaves were brought to Santhenar by Rulke the Charon, thousands of years ago, in the hunt for the Golden Flute. They gained their freedom long ago and built cities in the mountains. I did not know they dwelt at Tirthrax.’

Then I beg you – he seemed to be consulting a map – make your way south across the mountains and thence west to Tirthrax. If … when you reach that peak, contact us and I will tell you how to get inside. Take the amplimet to the leader of the Aachim and beg him, or her, to use it. Only then will there be any chance for me.

‘What chance?’ she whispered. Strange emotions stirred in her.

To come to your world. He seemed surprised that she had not realised. It was foretold long ago, and again by me when I was a child.

‘Are you a seer?’

Of sorts, though seldom taken seriously by my own people. Ah, how I long to see beautiful Santhenar. And you, Tiaan, most beautiful of all

Her heart leapt. These Aachim were a clever, strong species. They had beaten the lyrinx on Aachan. With their help, surely humanity could win the war. And, Tiaan realised, not only would she be with her love, as she was beginning to think of him, but she would be a hero. She would have helped to save Santhenar. No one would look down on her then. Her unfortunate birth would be irrelevant.

Can you do it? said Minis.

‘Can you not see?’ she asked softly.

It is given to no seer to see his own future. Nor can I see yours. I know I am asking a lot. Are you a traveller, Tiaan?

He was asking the world. In her lifetime Tiaan had gone no further than Tiksi, just a few leagues away. To Tirthrax would be a colossal journey. ‘I am not, but for you,’ she gazed at his face longingly, ‘I will walk from one side of the world to the other.’

His eyes grew soft. My little love. How I long to be in your arms. We have much to do, to be ready in time, and you have a great journey in front of you. You are our only hope, Tiaan. Whether you succeed, or fail, do so gloriously! In Tirthrax you will be honoured.

And, remember, tell no one; they would not understand and would only try to stop you. Do not speak about your amplimet, either. To those who understand the Secret Art it is a crystal beyond price.

‘Only one man ever knew, the old miner who found the crystal for me. Alas, my friend Joeyn lies dead in the mine.’