The outer half of the sphere split off in a ragged circle and freezing air rushed in. Tiaan gulped it down. It tasted better than the fine wine her mother had occasionally offered on her visits to the breeding factory.

The creature’s head came over the edge of the ice. It was not a Hürn bear at all, but a lyrinx. There was frozen blood down its front – one of its victims, no doubt. She felt for the crossbow. Her eyes were all blurry. Ryll slowly came into focus.

‘Can you cling to my back?’

‘No!’ she gasped, backing against the rock. ‘No!’

He took the crossbow away, pulled her out and tucked her under one muscular arm. She caught a whiff of his odour – strong, gamey, though not unpleasant. Tiaan did not struggle. There was no point.

‘Where are you taking me?’ she said hoarsely.

‘Don’t be afraid.’ He began to climb up over the ice, seemingly unburdened by her weight. ‘I am paying my debt.’

‘Pack!’ she croaked.

Ryll stopped. ‘What is the matter?’

‘I must have my pack!’

He resumed the climb. ‘I will come back for it.’

Tiaan sagged. Whatever he planned to do with her, or to her, she was too weak to resist.

The darkness was complete, not the least pinpoint of light anywhere as Tiaan came to. Rock pressed against her shoulder blades. She felt around. More rock. It felt strange, having no idea what space she was in. Tiaan wished she had the senses of a bat, to move carefree through the dark. She was not cold, but so weary that merely moving her arms exhausted her. She felt acutely aware of her body. Every part was tingling; she could feel every nerve strand. What damage had the amplimet done to her?

The air was still. Silence surrounded her, and smells – the odour of blood and meat, the bodies of the soldiers, and a different kind of odour that must be the dead lyrinx. She was in the cavern.

‘Hello!’ she said. The sound came back in dull-edged echoes. ‘Hello?’ she shouted. ‘Ryll!’

Echoes but no reply. This was her chance to escape, and Tiaan felt a sudden pang of homesickness for the smell and the racket of the manufactory, and even her cold little sleeping cubicle. If only she could go home.

She was imagining that she could when she had a vision of Minis’s reproachful face. But you gave your word, Tiaan.

She groaned aloud. She would not go home, but how could she go after Minis? Tirthrax was hundreds of leagues away, through some of the most inhospitable country in the world. It would take years, even if she had plenty of money and supplies. And everywhere she went, guards would question her, officials demand her papers, and throw her into the cells because she had no right to be there.

It was absurd to think that she could walk to Tirthrax. Quite impossible. Give him up, she told herself. You just can’t do it, and no one could expect you to. But where could she go?

Minis, she thought. My poor, lost love. You picked the wrong person. I would save you if I could, but I can’t. I’m just not strong enough. She lay on the floor and wept.

Tiaan felt washed out. Why had Ryll saved her life then left her here? Had he fled with her amplimet? Was it what Ryll really wanted? Her outstretched hand touched the webbing of her pack and she felt inside. The helm was there, and the small crystal.

Emptying her pack, she scratched frantically through the contents. Her tools fell out of the toolkit, to tinkle on the rock floor. Clothes, food rations, sleeping pouch, soap, all were there. The amplimet was not.

Ryll had left her halfway up the sloping floor, well away from the bodies. She went down, looking for one of the torches. The bloody smell grew stronger. Her hand struck something rigid – a dead soldier.

Tiaan ran into three more bodies, then a tunnel. She must be near the second, third or fourth tunnels, for that was where the battle had been. After working that information into a mental picture of the chamber, she knew where to look. The bundle of tarred sticks must be to her left.

It was a surprisingly long time before she found them. She came up against the back of the dead lyrinx, slipped in a puddle of jellied blood and lost her mental map. Trying to get it back, arms out, she walked slap-bang into the torches.

One had a sticky patch of tar on it that had not burned. Striking sparks into a pinch of tinder, Tiaan used the small flare to light the torch. The flame dazzled her. Seeking out the tar pot she replenished the torch and in its smoky light searched the cavern from one side to the other, and the tunnel that led back to the outside. She did not find the amplimet.

Nor did she find her pincers, used to draw the bolt from Ryll’s neck. The empty space in her toolkit was like a freshly pulled tooth. She found bloody evidence of the place Ryll had fallen, the muck he’d heaved up afterwards, and even a mark on the floor, in purple blood, that had the outline of the pincers. Both pincers and bolt were gone.

Ryll appeared behind her. She let out a strangled cry. The light in his hands came from the amplimet, reflecting eerily off skin now coloured in washes of yellow.

‘What are you doing with my crystal?’ she said wildly. Withdrawal had made her reckless.

He gave a mild, toothy smile. Did that mean he was amused, or hungry? ‘I can’t see in pitch dark,’ he rumbled.

Tiaan, regretting the tone of her voice, edged backwards.

The smile broadened. ‘I’m not going to eat you, little human.’

Not very reassuring. ‘Wh-where have you been?’

‘Checking the tunnels to make sure no one came after me.’

‘Was anyone coming?’

‘Not that way!’ With his injured hand, he indicated the passage back to the crystal mine. The regenerating fingers were now the size of a child’s. ‘The rocks have moved. The tunnel is blocked.’

‘What did you do with my pincers?’

‘What?’

‘The tool I pulled the bolt from your neck with. It was lying just there.’ She showed him the bloody outline.

‘I did not touch it,’ he said.

‘It was with the bolt. You must have taken them.’

‘I did not. Why would I?’

‘Then someone has been here!’

‘One man came back – the leader. I can smell him. But he went again.’

Fear pricked her. Gi-Had must have come looking for her and found the artisan’s pincers. Helping the enemy was a capital offence and now he had evidence of it. Tiaan put her hands over her eyes, trying to think. She could not. She was too afraid. When she opened them, Ryll was staring at her.

‘What do you want me for?’

‘My debt of honour,’ he replied.

‘You saved my life. The debt is paid!’

‘Not if you’re going to die as soon as I go.’

‘You have a stern moral code,’ she said sarcastically.

‘Indeed! Otherwise, why have a code at all? I will escort you home.’

If she went back, Gi-Had would probably have her executed for treason. ‘I no longer have a home.’

He looked thoughtful. ‘Where do you wish to go?’

Tiaan felt panicky. Where could she go? All destinations were equally hopeless. In that case she might as well attempt the impossible and head for Tirthrax. No doubt she would die on the way but at least she’d be keeping her promise to Minis. It made her feel better. ‘I want to go south! Over the range to Tarralladell.’

‘Have you family there?’

‘No, but further west, in the mountains of Mirrilladell, I am going to find a man I have never met.’

‘Ah! An arranged mating?’

Tiaan blushed. ‘In a way; not yet, but I hope …’ She did not go on. It was too unreal.

‘To cross the mountains in this season …’ he mused. ‘Well, south of here they are smaller, and there are passes, but even so,’ he gave her a sideways glance. ‘It will not be easy.’

‘I can’t wait till spring. I might be too late.’

‘To my mind, if he cannot wait that long to mate with you,’ said Ryll, ‘he is not a good choice.’