It was the fourth anniversary of Gehn’s naming day and a solemn ceremony was taking place in the family mansion in D’ni. Until today, Gehn had been a child, free to play as a child played, but from this hour onward he would take the first steps toward becoming a guildsman.

Looking on, Anna felt deeply for her son. Standing amid the guild officials, little Gehn looked terrified. His hair had been cut and he was wearing guild clothes—duplicates of those his father, Aitrus, and his grandfather Kahlis wore as they stood on either side of him. In front of them, behind a special trestle table that had been set up in the room, stood Yteru, the Grand Master of the Guild of Books. It was to his guild that Gehn was to be apprenticed, and the boy would join them in their halls two weeks from now.

Two days ago, knowing how much her son was dreading the occasion, Anna had gone to Aitrus in his study and asked him if Gehn really did need to join the guild just then. He was sure to miss home dreadfully, but Aitrus was adamant. It was the D’ni way, and if Gehn was to be considered D’ni and make his eventual way in the world, then he must conform to the ways of the guilds.

And so she was to relinquish him, long before he was ready to be taken from her. It would break his heart and hers, but maybe Aitrus was right. Maybe, in the long run, it would be best for him. Yet she had her doubts.

As the Grand Master called the boy forward, she found herself praying silently that he would remember the words she had taught him—the words of the guild oath.

Slowly, stumblingly, Gehn forced them out. As he finished, Master Yteru smiled benevolently down at the child, then, in a slow, sonorous drawl, uttered the words of acceptance.

And so it was done Her son was now a guildsman.

Afterward, she held him, telling him how proud she was, but she could see the fear of separation in his eyes.

Aitrus had been saying his farewells to the guildsmen; now he came back. He stood in the doorway, looking in at her and Gehn. “Are you angry with me?”

She nodded.

He sighed, exasperated. “I am sorry, Ti’ana, but you know how things stand. It is the D’ni way, and we cannot afford to act differently. That would be self-indulgent. You knew that when you became D’ni.”

“I know,” she said, as angry at herself as at him, “but I did not think it would be so hard.”

“No. But there is one thing we can do. Before Gehn goes, that is.”

“You want to go to Gemedet?”

Aitrus shook his head. “I promised you once. Remember?”

At first she did not understand; then her eyes widened.

He nodded.

“Yes, Ti’ana. It’s time our son saw where his mother came from.”

 

 

§

 

 

The journey through the tunnels took two days. On the morning of the third they came to the cavern where the two great digging machines stood silently. As Anna and Gehn came up beside him, Aitrus turned to them and smiled.

“We are almost there.” He pointed across at the great red wedge of rock facing them. “There is this seal. The surface must be just above.”

Anna nodded. “This is where I came in. I remember it vividly. The machines…” She stared at them fondly, then smiled. “Do you know what I thought, Aitrus?”

“No, tell me.”

“I thought I had discovered the tomb of a great king. And these… I thought these were the remains of some great civilization, a long-lost race of giants, perhaps, or…” She laughed. “Little did I know.”

Aitrus looked at her fondly. “I am glad you chose to look, Ti’ana. But for that curiosity of yours, I would have been lost.”

Anna looked away, a smile on her lips. “Oh, I am sure some young D’ni maiden would have found you.”

He laughed. “Maybe. But let us press on now. I am impatient to see the surface.”

Gehn, who had been silent until that moment, now spoke up. “Daddy? Why did we not link to the surface?”

Aitrus came back and, crouching before his son, began to explain. “If this were a different Age, then we might have linked to it, but the surface is in the same Age as D’ni and one cannot link to a place in the same Age.”

“What, never? ” the boy asked, wide-eyed.

“Never,” Aitrus said, smiling patiently.

Gehn frowned, considering that, then looked back up at his father. “But how will we find our way back to D’ni?”

Aitrus took his notebook from his pocket and opened it. Inside, between the tanned leather covers, were page after page of maps and diagrams. Aitrus flicked through it for a while, then, coming to the page, turned the notebook so that Gehn could see.

“ Look, Gehn. Here is it a map of the tunnels. I have been making notes as we went along. We only need trace our way back.”

It seemed to satisfy the boy. He grinned, then went across to his mother, who stood beneath one of the great machines. She put her arm about him, then looked back at Aitrus.

“When I first saw these, I was convinced that whoever had made them must be long dead, for what kind of race would make such wonderful machines then leave them in the Rock?”

Aitrus smiled then walked across to her. “Was it this one that you climbed?”

She nodded.

“You climbed it, mama?” Gehn asked, looking up at his mother and wide-eyed wonder.

“I did. And then I walked down into D’ni. Only I did not know it was D’ni. Not until long after.”

They went through the gap, Anna leading the way, Gehn close behind. Reaching the pocket, Aitrus lit the lantern again. He knew what lay ahead—Anna had already told him—but now they were so close, he felt a strange excitement. How many years now had he waited for this?

Fifty years, at least.

Anna was first to climb down. At the bottom she turned, reaching up to take Gehn as Aitrus let him down. Then they were in the cavern, where it had first began for Anna, all those years ago. She looked to him.

“It hasn’t changed.”

They went on, climbing up into the tunnel and along, until the three of them stood before the rock fall.

Aitrus set the timer, then took them back to a safe distance. There was a huge bang. The whole tunnel shuttered. As the smoke cleared, Anna picked Gehn up and, following Aitrus, walked through, stepping over the rubble.

It was night. A full moon rested with a shining disk of silver in the center of the blue-black velvet sky. Surrounding it, a billion flickering stars shown down.

Aitrus stood there at the entrance to the tunnel, steering up at the moon. Beside him, Anna held Gehn against her side, her face close to his, and pointed.

“Look, Gehn. That’s the moon.”

“Moon,” he said, snuggling in to her, tired now.

Anna smiled then turned her head, looking to Aitrus. He met her eyes and smiled.

“Come,” he said, taking her hand, “let’s find the Lodge.”

 

 

§

 

 

They sat on the ledge of the open window, looking out across the narrow bridge toward the desert. Gehn was asleep in the room behind them.

Anna listened on moment, then smiled. Aitrus sat just behind her, his arms about her, his chin resting on the top of her head. It had been her secret dream to bring him here and sit with him like this, yet now that it was real it seemed more dreamlike than the dream—a moment wholly out of time. She pressed back against him and felt his arms tighten about her.

"Do you still miss him?” he asked softly.

“Sometimes.”

She half-turned her head, looking back at him. “He speaks to me sometimes. In my head.”

Aitrus smiled, but she could see he only half-believed her, or maybe thought she meant that she thought of her father and remembered his words. But it was true what she said.

She felt Aitrus sigh, a sigh of pure contentment, and turned back, letting her eyes go to the descending moon once more, the smile lingering at the corners of her mouth.

“Ti’ana?”

“Hmm?” she answered lazily.

“I know how much you love to your father, and know how much you owed to him, but… well, what of your mother? You never speak of her.”

“No.”

Even thought of it brought back the pain.

“Ti’ana?” Aitrus sat forward.

“It’s all right,” she said.

She began again, hunching forward as she spoke, letting the words come haltingly. “It was an accident. We were climbing. In the mountains to the south of here. my father had gone up the cliff face first, and I had followed. Mother was last, all three of us tied on the same rope. Father had walked on a little way, to inspect the cliffs we had glimpsed from below. That was why we were there, you see. We were always exploring.”

Anna stopped, catching her breath. Again she saw it, vividly, as if it had happened not 35 years ago by yesterday—the staring eyes, the mouth open in surprise.

Anna collected herself, then carried on. “The difficult part of the climb was behind her and she was only six or eight from the edge. I could almost have put out a hand and hauled her up. She was smiling. And then her foot slipped. It ought not to have mattered. The rope ought to have held her. I felt a momentary tension on it, then it went, like a rotten vine. And next thing she was falling. And not a sound—just her eyes looking back at me, her mouth open in surprise.

"Father blamed himself, of course. He should have checked the rope, he kept saying, but I could see that he was devastated.”

Aitrus was silent a while. “I am sorry, Ti’ana. I did not know. I should not have asked.”

She turned to face him, kneeling on the ledge. Her face was streaked with tears, but she was smiling tenderly now. She reached out, her hands gently holding his cheeks. “No, Aitrus. You of all people should have known. We should have no secrets, you and I.”

She kissed him then; softly, tenderly, her eyes shining in the moonlight. And as they broke from the kiss, his eyes were wide with wonder.

 

 

§

 

 

Gehn woke him, shaking him awake. Sunlight blazed in from the room at the front of the lodge, so strong it stabbed into his pupils, making him shielding his eyes then feel about him for his glasses.

“Mama’s gone!” Gehn was saying. “Mama’s gone!”

Aitrus pulled on the glasses, then sat up, putting out his arms to hold the frightened boy. “No, Gehn. She will be back. I promise you.”

But Gehn was sobbing uncontrollably at the thought that he had lost his mother, Aitrus held Gehn tightly until the crying subsided, then, picking him up, he carried him out, through the room at the front until they stood in the doorway, looking out over the valley.

The heat surprised him. It could not be more than an hour since dawn, yet already it was far hotter than the hottest day on Gemedet or Ko’ah. He recalled what Anna had said about the heat; how it was the single factor that determined life here. It was not something he would have written into an Age, but someone, the Grand Master who had written the Book of Earth, had thought of it, and created the conditions for such extremes of cold and heat.

Gehn had fallen silent, yet he still clung to his father’s neck as if his life depended on it. Aitrus looked at him and smiled.

“You want a drink, Gehn?”

Gehn nodded.

Aitrus took his back inside, setting him gently down on the window ledge while he poured him a goblet of cool, clear water from the jug Anna had filled the night before.

Turning, he saw how Gehn was staring about him. “Where are we?” he asked, taking the water gratefully.

“This is where your mother lived when she was young,” he answered. “This is where she grew up, with her father.”

“Here?” Gehn seemed astonished. “But where are the Books?”

Aitrus laughed. “These people are human. They are not like the D’ni. They do not have Books and Ages. This is all they have.”

Gehn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked up at Aitrus. “But how could they live with just this?”

Aitrus looked about him. To be honest, he had asked himself the very same question. Now that he had seen the Lodge, he wondered how Anna had survived out here.

“They made do,” he answered, finally. Yet even as he said it he heard Anna’s voice. She was singing. A song he had never heard before, in a tongue he did not know.

Quickly he joined Gehn at the window, in time to see Anna come over the crest of the hill, a small cart pushed before her. She was wearing a black cloak trimmed with red, the hood of which was up over her head. Seeing them, she waved, then came on again, finishing her song.

Aitrus went out onto the bridge, Gehn beside him. The heat was fierce but not yet overpowering. As Anna came up onto the bridge, she smiled and held out something for Gehn to take. He ran to her and took the strange box, then scuttled back inside, into the shade. Anna pulled back her hood, then stepped up to Aitrus.

“You should wear something on your head,” she said, touching his brow. “Ten minutes in this and you will get sun-stroke.”

“Sunstroke?” He did not understand her.

“The heat,” she said. “It will affect your brain. You will collapse and be ill.”

“You are jesting with me,” he said, smiling, as if he understood she was joking, but she was not smiling.

“It is very dangerous out here,” she said simply. “Both you and Gehn must keep covered up as much as possible. The desert sun is unforgiving.”

He nodded, then. “Where have you been? And that cart…”

Anna half-turned, looking across at the cart, then she turned back to Aitrus. “I went to get it. It had all my books and journals on it. And other things. Fortunately I hid it well, and the desert did the rest. It was untouched, as if I’d left it yesterday.”

“And that song. What was that?”

Anna smiled. “Did you like it?” She quickly sang a verse. “It’s something my mother taught me. I could not sing it before. But now…” Again she smiled, then took his arm, leading him back into the shadows of the Lodge.

As they came into the main room, Gehn looked up at them, his eyes wide. “What is this game?” he asked, pointing to the checkered board, the black and white pieces that were laid out beside it.

“It is called chess,” she said, squatting beside him. “My father taught me how to play, and I shall teach you.”

Gehn beamed. “So I am not going to go to the Guild Hall after all?”

Anna looked down. “No, Gehn. You must go. But not yet. We will stay here for a few days, yes? Just you and I and Father.”

Gehn looked away a moment, struggling with his disappointment, then he nodded and, turning back to Anna, picked up the white queen. “So what is this piece and what does it do?”

 

 

§

 

 

“Thinblood…”

“Who-man…”

“No-dunny…”

The whispers surrounded Gehn in the darkness of the dormitory; endless, taunting whispers that filled the lonely nights. Gehn lay there, facing the bare stone wall, the knuckles of his right hand pressed into his mouth, trying to shut it all out, but still the whispers came.

The mattress was too thin beneath him, the blankets rough and scratchy. But worst of all was the sense of abandonment that came each evening as the great door to the dormitory was closed and absolute darkness fell.

It was awful. More awful than he had ever thought possible. They had heard him crying the first few nights and had laughed at him for it. And then the whispers had begun, playing upon his fears and insecurity, making his life even more of a misery than it already was.

At home he was used to his own room, his own smooth sheets and blankets. There, a night-light rested in the corner, warm and reassuring. And he knew that his mother was always there, next door, in case bad dreams came and disturbed his sleep. But here there was nothing. Nothing but the darkness and the endless hurtful whispers.

Why had they done this to him? Why? Had he been bad? If so, he could not remember what it was that he had done. Or did they no longer love him? For to leave him here, among these awful, spiteful boys, was surely some kind of punishment.

He could remember his father’s face, unnaturally stern, as he spoke to him the night before he had come here.

“You must be brave, Gehn. It is the D’ni way. It might seem hard at first, but you will get used to it, I promise you.”

So much for promises. But the worst had been the parting from his mother. He had kicked and screamed, refusing to go with them, so that eventually they had had to pick him up and carry him to the waiting carriage.

That had been two weeks ago now. Two weeks of endless homesickness, and the torment of the nights.

Yet even as the whispers multiplied, Gehn found himself thinking of the lesson earlier that day. He had begun to think himself a fool; had begun to believe that the boys were right when they called him “No-dunny” and said he had sand in his head instead of brains. But today he had begun to understand what he was doing here, for today he had seen Master Urren.

Gehn was taught in a group of eight, the eldest aged seven, the youngest himself. Most of it was basic, the kind of stuff his mother had taught him back at home, but some was specific stuff about ink and writing; today’s lecture in particular.

Master Urren, the visiting tutor from the Guild of Ink-Makers, was a big, ungainly, birdlike man, with a long, thin face and huge bushy eyebrows that seemed to form a continuous line across his upper face. He had the habit of staring into the air as he spoke, as if in a trance, then looking directly at one or other of his pupils, startling them. But it was not this habit but his words that had woken Gehn this morning.

With his eyes closed, Gehn could see Master Urren now, his right hand clenched into a fist as he spoke the Ink-Maker’s litany.

“What binds the Word to the World? The Ink!”

“What burns the bridge between the Ages? The Ink!”

“What forms the living darkness between two lights? The Ink!”

Then, to the astonishment of them all, he had brought out a great tub of ink—lifting a handful of the fine dark granules so that they could see.

“The manufacture of this is a secret. A very grave and great secret, like the secret of the paper, which in time each of you will learn. But you must first prove yourself worthy to be trusted with such a secret, for the making of these two things is the key to immense power—the power to make worlds!”

And there was more, the words issuing thunderously from Urren’s lips, so that Gehn had found himself staring at the guildsman openmouthed, amazed by the power of the words. This, he realized, was what his father had been talking about. This was what it meant to be a guildsman. Until that moment he had thought it a senseless thing to want to be, but suddenly, in one single, blazing moment, he understood.

Gehn turned and lay upon his back, letting his hand fall onto his chest. The whispers had stopped now. Soft snoring filled the silent darkness of the narrow room.

Secrets. He was to be the heir to great and wonderful secrets. Twenty years it might take, but then he would know, as Master Urren knew, and maybe then his eyes would burn with that same ferocious knowledge, that same certainty.

Gehn shivered, then, wiping his hand across his face, formed the words silently in the darkness.

It is the D’ni way.

 

 

§

 

 

The Ink-works were burning. Great flames curled up into the darkness, lighting the roof of the cavern almost a mile overhead. Gehn stood on the stone ledge, staring out the window across the rooftops of the upper city. Surrounding him, his fellow students jostled to see, but he stood at the very front, both hands tightly grasping the great central bar of the pane-less window, looking out across the dark toward the massive blaze.

They had heard the explosion twenty minutes back, but at the time they had not understood just what was happening. Now they knew. Someone had placed a bomb in the very middle of the Ink-Works. Many were dead. Many more were missing.

For the past eight weeks there had been incidents. Senior guildsmen had been mysteriously attacked. Offices had been ransacked. In the worst of the incidents, three Kortee-nea—blank Books—had gone missing, along with a whole stock of small Linking Books. The Maintainers had been placed on constant alert; no one knew yet who was behind the outbreak.

And now this.

There was a shout in the corridor behind them. Gehn turned, along with the others, to see the Duty Master hurrying down the corridor toward them, his hands waving madly.

“Boys! Boys! Get down from there at once!”

They climbed down, obedient to their Guild Master, yet as Gehn went to walk away, he saw how the Master hung back at the window, staring out at the blaze, the glowing orange light reflected in his pale eyes, a look of pure fear etched in his face.

 

 

§

 

 

Aitrus did not wait to be summoned but went straight to the Guild House. All but two or three of the Emergency Council were already there, the others arriving very shortly after Aitrus. As Lord R’hira called the meeting to order, a Master from the Guild of Maintainers hurried in and, bowing to R’hira, gave him the latest report from the Ink-Works.

And fifteen had died. Another eight were missing. It was too early to know for certain, but it seemed that a large stock of ink had been taken.

“But how was this possible?” Master Jadaris asked, when his man had finished.

“Someone is linking to places throughout D’ni,” Guild Master Jerahl answered him. “Someone with special knowledge of the guilds.”

“Some one ?” R’hira queried, looking about the table. “Or are there several miscreants? Look at the pattern of the attacks. Not one but six separate guilds have now been targeted. And who knows where they will strike next? The only thing these incidents have in common is that they know the intimate workings of the guilds. They know where we are vulnerable. They know precisely where to attack and when.”

“Veovis?”

All eyes turned to Aitrus, who had spoken the name.

“Impossible,” Jadaris said, after a moment. “He is more than safe where we have put him.”

“Is he?” Lord R’hira asked, leaning toward the Grand Master. “When did you last check on him?”

“Three weeks ago. After the first of these incidents.”

“But before the remainder, yes?”

Jadaris nodded. Then, shaking his head, “No. I refuse to believe it. But if my fellow guildsmen would like me to check?”

“Do so, Master Jadaris,” R’hira said. “And let us know what you discover.”

Jadaris bowed to R’hira and left.

R’hira looked about the table. “Whoever this is—and we must not leap to any assumptions without full and proper knowledge—they aim to create a climate of fear, and what better way than to engage in a meaningless sequence of violent events?”

“Do you think that is what’s happening here?” Master Jerahl asked.

“I do. But there is something none of you know about. Something that has been kept a secret among the Five. In view of this latest outrage, however, we feel you ought to know if it.” R’hira paused significantly, then, looking down at his hands, said, “One of the Five great Books has been desecrated. That of Master Talashar. In fact, the structure of the text was so damaged and distorted that that Age has become unstable and we fear it will shortly self-destruct.”

There was horror about the table. This was one of their worst fears—that their Ages would be tampered with and destroyed. And here was news that such a thing had happened, and not just to any Age but to one of the five “Classics,” those ancient, beautiful Ages made by the greatest of D’ni’s Writers.

“Who would do such a thing?” Hajihr of the Stone-Masons asked, his face mirroring the shock everyone felt at that moment.

“I do not know for certain,” R’hira answered, “But I am beginning to have my suspicions. If it is Veovis, then I’d judge he is not acting alone. And there it is one other thing. The new entries were in the same hand as that of Master Talashar.”

“But he died more than six thousand years ago,” Jerahl said, voicing the thoughts of all.

“That is so,” R’hira said. “Yet the ink on the page was barely three weeks old.”

There was a stunned silence, then Aitrus spoke again. “I think we should find A’Gaeris and hold him, until his part in this is fully known.”

“You think he is involved, then?” Hajihr asked.

Aitrus shrugged. “He may be innocent, but I think not. I begin to share my Lord R’hira’s doubts.”

“And Veovis?” Jerahl asked, looking across at Aitrus.

“Perhaps Lord Veovis was innocent after all.”

 

 

§

 

 

Guild Master Jadaris paused at the outer gate, waiting as the Master of the Keys unlocked the ancient door that led down into the earth.

No part of D’ni lay deeper in the rock than this, no part of the great city in the rock was more secure. A sloping tunnel led from the inner gate down to the Gate of Traitors, ten spans into the rock. There, in a cavern that had been hollowed more than 3,000 years before, lay the Cells of Entry.

Jadaris walked down the long passage between the cells. All but one were empty. So it was. For though there were fifteen cells beyond the inner gate, few were ever used, for D’ni was an orderly society and transgressions that merited incarceration on a Prison Age were rare indeed.

“He must be there,” he muttered to himself as, standing before the solid stone door of Veovis’s cell, he waited for the Master of the keys to unlock.

But R’hira’s words had rattled him. Lord R’hira did not act on whim. If he had a suspicion, then like as not it was the truth. Even so, he could not believe that Veovis was not in the Age.

As the door swung back, he pushed past his Key Master almost rudely, so anxious was he for confirmation one way or another.

The cell was bare, the walls plain rock. A single wooden chair and a table were the only furnishings.

The book, allowing one to monitor the Prison Age, lay on the desk, open, its glowing panel visible.

Jadaris leaned over it. The panel showed no sign of Veovis at his desk in the Prison Age.

He turned, looking back at the squad of guards who had followed him and nodded.

“We go in.”

 

 

§

 

 

Master Jadaris appeared in a room of metal. The floor of the linking chamber was slatted black metal, the six walls a metallic blue that was almost black, undecorated and windowless, featureless almost, except for one large panel on the far wall facing him. Dim lighting panels in the ceiling gave the room an underwater feel. In the center of the floor was a hexagonal pedestal, on which rested the Linking Book. It appeared untouched.

More men were linking into the room now. Armed Maintainers, wearing sealed masks and carrying air tanks on their backs, ready for any sort of trouble.

As Jadaris stood, the armed men positioned themselves along the walls to other side of him. At Jadaris’s signal, his first assistant stepped up to the panel and placed a flat “locking square” against the faint indentation in the panel, then stepped back.

There was a heavy thunk! as all six of the steel locking bolts retracted at once. With a hiss the door slid slowly into the floor.

Cold air flooded the room. Beyond the door and metal walkway ran on. Jadaris sniffed again, an expression of acute distaste in his face, then walked toward the doorway.

Stepping out onto the walkway he looked up. This guy was dark and glowering, a wintry sun obscured behind heavy cloud.

Facing him was the island. Jadaris stared at it, wondering what Veovis had thought the first time he had seen it, knowing that this was to be his home henceforth, until he died.

The island was a great block of black volcanic rock, its tapered shape thrusting up from a black and oily sea. Standing on top of that desolate rock was a black tower, its walls smooth and windowless. The walkway was an unsupported length of metal some five or six feet above the surface, joining the linking chamber to the island. A set of steps cut from the rock lead up from the walkway to the great door of the tower.

A cold, bleak wind blew from Jadaris’s left, whipping the surface of the water and making him pull his cloak tighter about him.

“Come,” he said, half-turning to his men, “let us see what is to be seen.”

The great door was locked. As his Chief Jailer took the key from his belt and stepped up to fit it to the lock, Jadaris shook his head. It was not possible. It simply was not possible. Yet as they went from room to room in the tower, his certainty dissolved. In the top room was a table. On it they found a meal set out. Yet the meal had been abandoned weeks ago and lay there rotting. Beside it lay three Linking Books.

Jadaris took the first of the three Books and stared at it. He did not know how it had been done, but Veovis had been sprung.

He shivered. This whole business filled him with profound misgivings. It was hard to know just who to trust.

He opened the Linking Book and read a line or two. This one led straight back to D’ni. Or so it seemed. It would be easy to check—he could send one of his guards through—but that was not the way they normally did things. It was not guild practice to send a man through to any Age without a Linking Book to get them back.

Jadaris sat there a moment, staring at the words, his eyes unseeing, his thoughts elsewhere, then suddenly he stood. Sweeping the rotting meal onto the floor, he lay the Book down in its place and opened it to the descriptive panel. Then, looking about him at his men, Jadaris smiled and placed his hand down firmly on the panel.

 

 

§

 

 

There was the acrid taste of smoke in the air as Veovis, cloaked and headed, made his way it along the alleyway toward the gate. The narrow streets of the lower city were strangely crowded for this late hour, as people stood outside their houses to watch the guildsman fight the great blaze farther up the city. The light from that blaze flickered moistly in Veovis’s eyes as he walked along, but no one noticed a single figure passing among them. Great events were happening in the cavern. They had all heard the explosion, and rumor was even now filtering down from the upper city. Guildsmen were dead. Some said as many as a hundred.

Stepping out from under the gate, Veovis glanced up at the blaze. It was still some way above him into his left. A muscle twitch to at his cheek, then lay still. The guard at the gate had barely glanced at him as he passed, his attention drawn to the fire at the great Ink-Works. And so he walked on, passing like a shadow among that preoccupied crowd.

The gate to the upper city just lay ahead.

 

 

§

 

 

Anna pulled on her boots, then stood, looking about her at the room. A cloak. Yes. She would need to take a cloak for him.

Going over to the linen cupboard, she took down one of Gehn’s cloaks. Then, knowing that if she thought too long about it she might change her mind, she quickly left the room, hurrying down the hallway and out the front door.

Outside Anna paused, her eyes going straight to the blaze. It was below her and slightly to the left of where she stood. What it meant for D’ni she did not know, but the sight of it had finally made up her mind. She was going to bring Gehn home, whether Aitrus liked it or not. This had gone on for too long.

She hurried through the streets, yet as she came into the lane that led to the Guild Hall, she found it barricaded, a squad of Maintainers keeping back a small crowd of bystanders. Even so, she went across, begging to be allowed to pass, but the guards would not let her and eventually she turned, making her way back along the street, wondering if there might not be another way to get to the Hall.

Down. If she went down to the gate and then across, she might come at the Hall by a different way

She walked on, making for the gate, yet as she did, a man strode toward her. He was cloaked and hooded and kept his head down as he walked, as if heavily preoccupied. There was something strange about that, and as he brushed past her, she caught a glimpse of his eyes beneath the hood.

She turned, astonished.

Veovis! It had been Veovis!

No. It could not be.

Anna swallowed, then, taking two steps, called out to the man. “Sir?”

But the man did not stop. He went on, hastening his pace, disappearing into a side street.

Anna hesitated a moment, then hurried after.

Turning the corner, she thought for a moment she had lost him; then she glimpsed a shadowy figure at the end of the narrow lane, slipping into the side gate of a darkened mansion.

Anna stopped, looking about her, but the lane was empty. If she was to find out what was happening she would have to do it herself.

Slowly, almost tentatively, she approached the gate. The blaze was at her back now. In its light everything was cast in vivid shadows of orange and black. There was a padlock on the gate, but it had been snapped and now hung loose. Anna Lee and her weight gently on the door and pushed.

Inside was a tiny yard, enclosed by walls. A door on the far side was open. Anna went across and stood in the doorway, listening. Again she could hear nothing. She slipped inside, into what was clearly a kitchen. The house was dark, abandoned, or, more likely, boarded up. Only the glow of the distance fire lit the room, giving each coverage shape a wavering insubstantiality.

She crossed the room, her footsteps barely audible. A door led onto the great hallway of the mansion. The body of the hall was dark, but on the far side was a huge staircase, leading up to the next floor. A great window on the landing let in the pale red glow of the blaze.

Anna listened a moment, then frowned. Perhaps she had imagined it. Perhaps he had not come in here at all. After all, it was dark, and she had been quite some distance off.

Briefly she wondered whose house this was and why it was abandoned. There were portraits on the walls, but most were in heavy shadow, all detail obscured. Only one, on the landing wall right next to the great window, could be discerned with any clarity, yet even that, in the wavering glow, seemed just a head and shoulders. It could have been anyone. Anyone at all.

Across from her, on the far side of the hallway, were more rooms. She quickly went across and peered inside, into the intense darkness, listening as much as looking. Again there was nothing.

She was about to go, to give up her fruitless search, when there was a distinct noise from the room overhead; a thump of something being put down; a heavy noise of metal and wood.

Anna felt her heartbeat quicken. She should not be here. Not alone, anyway. If it was Veovis, then he had escaped. And if he had escaped…

She was in danger—she knew that for a certainty—but she could not stop herself. Not now. The spirit of exploration was upon her. She had to know if it really was him, and if so, what he was doing.

She went to the foot of the stairs, staring up past the turn. Was there a faint light up there or was she imagining it?

Slowly Anna began to climb the stairs, ready at any moment to rush down and out of the great house. There were more noises now; the sounds of someone taking things and stowing them—in a sack, perhaps, or a bag. At the turn of the stairs she stopped, glancing up at the portrait. She was about to go on, when she looked again at the painting, sudden understanding coming to her.

It was A’Gaeris, or one of his ancestors so like him as to make no difference. The figure had the same querulous eyes, the same long brow and receding hairline, the same swept-back hair.

So this was your mansion once, Philosopher. Before you fell.

The knowledge was a key. She knew now that it was Veovis up above, and that A’Gaeris had somehow helped him to escape. How she did not know just yet, but perhaps she would discover that, given time.

Anna client the last few stairs, then stopped her hand on the top rail, listening once more. The noises were coming from a room at the far end of the hallway—to her left as she stood. All the doors to the right of the corridor were shut, so it was not the light of the blaze she had seen from below. It came, in fact, from a room just up the corridor and to the left.

Anna took a long, calming breath then began to walk toward it. But she had gone only two paces when Veovis stepped from the room at the far end of the corridor and placed a backpack down on the floor of the hallway. She stopped dead, certain he would see her, but he did not even glance her way. With a sniff he turned and went back inside.

She quietly let out a breath, then walked on.

In the doorway to the first room she stopped, steering and down the hallway to the door of the end room, certain that he would step out at that moment and see her, but then she heard him, whistling softly to himself, his footsteps clearly on the far side of the room.

She turned and looked inside. It was a study. Book-filled shelves were on every wall and a huge desk sat in the far corner. On it was a tiny lamp with a pale rose bulb of glass, let by a fire-marble. In its glow she could see the outline of a Linking Book, the descriptive panel shining brightly.

For a moment she hesitated, then, walking across, she stood beside the desk and, putting out her hand, placed it on the panel.

 

 

§

 

 

Veovis crouched, tying the neck of the sack, then carried it outside. Lifting the backpack, he slung it over his shoulder then went along the hallway to the study.

All was as he had left it. He glanced about the study, then reached across and slid the catch back on the lamp, dousing the fire-marble. Slowly its glow faded. As the room darkened, the brightness of the panel in the Linking Book seemed to intensify, until he seemed to be looking through a tiny window.

Reaching out, Veovis covered that brightness with his hand, as if to extinguish it. For a moment the room was dark; then, slowly, the vivid square of light reappeared through the melting shape of his hand.

There was silence in the empty room.

 

 

§

 

 

Anna stood at the window looking out at a view that was as strange as any she had ever seen. It was not simply that the sky had a heavy purplish hue, nor that the dark green sea seemed to move slowly, viscously, like oil in a bowl, it was the smell of this Age—an awful musty smell that seemed to underlie everything.

The chamber into which she had linked had been cut into the base of the island, forming a kind of cellar beneath it. Knowing that Veovis was likely to link after her, she had quickly left the room, hurrying up a flight of twisting metals stairs and into a gallery that looked out through strong glass windows on an underwater seascape filled with strange, sluggish creatures, dark-skinned, with pale red eyes and stunted fans.

Halfway along this gallery, facing the windows, was a large, circular metal hatch—wheel-operated, as on a ship. Anna glanced at it, then went on.

A second set of steps led up from the gallery into a spacious nest of rooms, at the center of which was a six-sided chamber—a study of some kind. Two of the walls were filled floor to ceiling with shelves, on which were books. Further piles of ancient, leather-covered books were scattered here into there across the wooden floor, as if dumped there carelessly. A dozen or so large, unmarked crates were stacked against the bare stone walls on one side, next to one of the three doors that led from the room. Two large desks had been pushed together at the center. These were covered with all manner of clutter, including several detailed maps of D’ni—street plans and diagrams of the sewers and service runs. In the far corner of the room a golden cage hung by a strong chain from a low ceiling. In it was a cruel-looking hunting bird. Seeing Anna it had lifted its night-black, glossy wings as if to launch itself that her, then settled again, its fierce eyes blinking from time to time as it studied her watchfully.

A long, dark corridor led from the nest of rooms to the chamber in which she stood, which lay at a corner of the island. It was a strange room, its outer walls and sloping ceiling made entirely of glass panels. Through the glass overhead she could see even more rooms and balconies, climbing the island, tier after tier.

Like K’veer , she thought, wondering if Veovis had had a hand in its design.

At the very top of the island, or, rather, level with it, she could glimpse the pinnacle of the tower, poking up of the very center of the rock.

Anna turned from the window. Behind her were three doors. The first led to a continuation of the corridor; the second opened upon a tiny store room; the third went directly into the rock— perhaps to the tower itself.

She went across, opening the last of the doors. A twisting stone stairwell led up into the rock. She was about to venture up it when there was a noise from the rooms to her right. There was a thud as something heavy was put down, then the unmistakable sound of Veovis whistling to himself. That whistling now grew louder.

Anna closed the door quietly and hurried over the middle door. She could explore the stairwell later. Right now it mattered only that Veovis not find her there.

Slipping into the store room, she pulled the door closed behind her, even as Veovis’s footsteps came along the final stretch of the corridor and into the room beside where she hid.

 

 

§

 

 

Aitrus took off his cloak, then turned to face his mother.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It is Ti’ana,” she answered. “I do not know where she is, Aitrus. One of the servants saw her leave an hour back.”

“She went out? With things as they are?”

Tasera nodded. “I would have sent a man out after her, if I had known. But she left no message.”

Aitrus frowned. “Wait here,” he said, “I think I know where she might be.”

“You know?”

“Not for certain, but Ti’ana has been unhappy these past few months. She has missed Gehn badly.”

“We have all missed him.”

“Yes, but Ti’ana has missed him more than anyone. Last week she asked me if he could come home. I think she may have gone to fetch him.”

“They would not let her.”

“Do you think that would stop Ti’ana if she were determined on it?”

Tasera shook her head.

“Well, I will go and see. Wait here, Mother. If she is not at the Guild Hall I shall return at once. But do not worry. I am sure she is all right.”

 

 

§

 

 

One of the guards on the barricade remembered her.

“She was most persistent,” he said, “but we had strict orders. We were to let no one pass, not even guildsmen, without special notification. She left here, oh, more than an hour ago now.”

“Did you notice where she went?”

The young guard nodded, then pointed up the lane. “She went back the way she came, then turned left, under the arch. It looked as if she was heading for the western sector.”

Aitrus thanked the guard then turned away. If Anna had been going home, she would have walked straight on and cut through farther up. Unless, of course, she was trying to get through to the Guild Hall by another route.

“Home,” he told himself. He would check home first, just in case she had returned. Then, if she was not there, he would go to the Guild House and ask there.

 

 

§

 

 

Anna crouched against the wall, trying not to make a sound.

Veovis was just beyond the door. She had heard him stop and sniff the air.

“Strange,” she heard him say. “Very strange.”

She closed her eyes. At any moment he would pull back the door and see her there. And then…

His footsteps went on. She heard the door to the corridor creak open, then close behind him, his footsteps receding.

Anna took a long breath, then pushed the door ajar. The outer room was empty now, filled with the strange mauve light from the sky. She was about to step outside again when she glimpsed, just to her right, two shelves, cut deep into the wall. She had not noticed them before, but now she stepped across, amazed by what was on them.

Books! Linking Books! Dozens of them! She took one down and examined it. D’ni! This linked to D’ni! Quickly she examined another. That, too, appeared to link to D’ni. One after another she flicked through them.

All of them on the top shelf—every last one—seemed to link back to D’ni; each at a separate location: in a specific room in a Guild Hall, or in the cellar of a house; in storerooms and servants’ quarters; and one, audaciously, direct into the great Council chamber of the Guild House.

So this was how they did it! Veovis was behind the spate of incidents these past few weeks.

Veovis, yes…and A’Gaeris.

The Books on the bottom shelf were blanks, waiting to be used. She counted them. There were forty-eight.

Anna stared at them, perplexed. How had they managed to get hold of so many blank Books? Had Suahrnir provided them? And what of Suahrnir? He had disappeared five years ago, presumed dead, but was he here, too?

When she had linked through she had not been quite sure what she meant to do. To take a peek and then get back? But now that she had seen the Books…

I have to stop this, she thought. Fifteen dead. That’s what the guard said. And more will die, for certain, unless I act. Unless I stop this now.

But how?

Anna stared at the Books, then nodded to herself, a plan beginning to form in her head.

 

 

§

 

 

Veovis stood at the end of the stone jetty, his left hand resting lightly on the plinth as he looked out over the glutinously bright green sea toward a nearby rock that jutted, purest white like an enameled tooth, from its surface. A circular platform rested on that rock, as if fused onto its jagged crown, its gray-blue surface level with where Veovis stood.

Veovis glanced at the timer on his wrist, then slowly turned the dial beneath his fingers, clockwise, then counterclockwise, then clockwise again. He waited a moment, listening as the massive cogs fell into place beneath his feet, then pressed down on the dial.

Slowly a metal walkway slid from the stone beneath his feet, bridging the narrow channel, linking the jetty to the platform. There was a resounding chunk! as it locked in place.

Veovis waited, tense now, resisting the temptation to glance at his timer again. Then, shimmering into view, a figure formed in the air above the platform. It was A’Gaeris.

The Philosopher blinked and glanced up at the sky, as if disoriented, then looked across at Veovis and grinned, holding up the Linking Book that both Anna and Veovis had used; that, until five minutes ago, had rested in the study back in the boarded-up house in D’ni.

The two men met in the middle of the walkway, clasping each other about the shoulders like the dearest of friends, while behind them a third figure shimmered into being on the platform.

It was Suahrnir.

 

 

§

 

 

High above them, from where she stood at the north window of the tower, Anna looked on, watching the three men greet each other then turn and walk back along the jetty, Veovis and A’Gaeris side by side, Suahrnir following a pace or two behind.

She had been thinking all along of the Linking Book back on D’ni—asking herself why they should leave the back door to this Age open like that. But now she understood. A’Gaeris had come along behind Veovis and gathered up the Book, then used a second Linking Book, hidden elsewhere, no doubt, to link back to the rock.

The walkway had been retracted. If anyone now tried to link through to this Age they would be trapped on the rock, unable to get across to the island.

She stepped back, away from the window, then turned, looking about her. The big circular room seemed to be used as a laboratory of some kind. Three long wooden benches were formed into an H at the center, their surfaces scattered with gleaming brass equipment. Broad shelves on the long, curving walls contained endless glass bottles and stoppered jars of chemicals and powders, and, on a separate set of shelves, Books. Guild Books, she realized, stolen from the libraries of D’ni.

Anna walked across, picking things up and examining them. Coming to the window on the south side of the room, she looked out. The sea went flat to the horizon, its dark green shading into black, so that at the point where the sea met the pale mauve sky there seemed to be a gap in reality.

Just below the tower, the land dipped steeply away to meet the sea, but in one place it had been built up slightly so that a buttress of dark, polished rock thrust out into the sea. A kind of tunnel extended a little way from the end of that buttress, at the end of which was a cage; a big, mansized cage, partly submerged.

Looking at it, Anna frowned.

She turned, looking back across the room. There was only one doorway into the room, only one stairway down. The strong wooden door had a single bolt, high up, which could be drawn from inside.

“Perfect,” she said quietly, smiling to herself. “Absolutely perfect.”

 

 

§

 

 

Back inside the study, Veovis shut the door, then walked across. A’Gaeris and Suahrnir were already deep in conversation, pointing to locations on the map and debating which to strike at next.

Veovis stared at them a moment, then walked around past them and picked up one of the two bags he had brought with him from D’ni.

“Here,” he said, handing it to A’Gaeris, “I brought you a few things back this time.”

A’Gaeris looked inside the bag, then laughed. Taking out the cloak, he held it up. It was a guild cloak, edged in the dark red of the Guild of Writers.

“To think I once valued this above all else!”

A’Gaeris shook his head, making a noise of disgust, then threw the cloak about his shoulders casually, preening himself in a mocking fashion and looking to Veovis as he did.

“So how are things in D’ni?”

Veovis smiled. “You were right, Philosopher. The destruction of the Ink-Works has unnerved them. Before now they were able to keep things close. Now all of D’ni knows there is a problem.”

“That may be so,” Suahrnir said, “but there is another problem. They now know that you are no longer on the Prison Age.”

Veovis turned to him. “They know? ”

Suahrnir nodded. “I overheard two guards talking. It seems Master Jadaris himself took an expedition in to check that you were still there. Finding you gone, they will know that someone had to have sprung you.” He turned to A’Gaeris and grinned. “And they will not have far to look, will they?”

A’Gaeris turned back to Veovis, concerned. “Then we must escalate our campaign. Until now we have had the advantage of surprise, but they will be vigilant from here on. We must identify our prime targets and hit them.”

“Lord R’hira,” Suahrnir suggested.

“Naturally,” Veovis agreed. “But not first. First we deal with my meddlesome friend.”

“Your friend?” A’Gaeris looked puzzled.

“My ex-friend, then. Guild Master Aitrus.”

“Aitrus?” Suahrnir frowned. “But surely we can deal with him later?”

“No,” A’Gaeris said. “What Veovis suggests makes sense. Cut off the head and the body cannot fight on. And who are the men whom we might call the ‘head’ of D’ni? Why, the Emergency Council, of course! Aitrus, Jadaris, Yf’Jerrej, R’hira. These are the four who are really running things right now, and so they must be our primary targets. Thus far we have unnerved the guilds. Now we must destabilize them.”

“I agree,” Veovis said. “But you will leave Aitrus to me.”

A’Gaeris smiled. “If you want him, he is yours, my friend. But make no mistakes. And show no pity. Remember that he showed you none.”

Veovis nodded. “I will not forget that easily. But come, let us formulate our plans.”

 

 

§

 

 

Anna tiptoed partway along the corridor, then stopped. She could hear the faint murmur of their voices through the door. There was brief laughter, and then the talk went on.

Good. While they were occupied, she would move the Linking Books.

Returning to the room, she gathered up all she could carry at one go, then hurried up the tower steps. Three trips saw all of the books removed to the big room at the top of the tower. Satisfied, Anna cleared the surface of one of the benches, then began to pile the books up in a heap, leaving only one aside.

That’s done, Anna picked up the book she had set aside and returned to the door.

The easiest and quickest way was to burn the books—to set fire to them, then link straight back to D’ni—but the easiest was not always the best. If she was to be sure of damaging their plans, she would need to make certain that there were no more Linking Books elsewhere on the island.

Anna listened a moment, then, satisfied that there was no one on the stairs, slipped out and hurried down. She had been depending on surprise so far, but she would need luck now, too, if she was to succeed.

Her luck held. They were still there inside the study. She could hear their voices murmuring behind the door.

“All right,” a voice, Suahrnir’s, said angrily. “But I do not know why we cannot just kill him and be done with it!”

Anna stepped back. At any moment the door might open and she would be discovered, yet she stayed there, listening.

“I’ll go right now,” Veovis said clearly. “Unless you have any further objections?”

“Not I,” A’Gaeris said. “But hurry back. There’s much to do before the morning.”

“Do not worry,” Veovis answered sardonically. “I know how best to hook our friend. I shall take no longer than I must.”

 

 

§

 

 

Aitrus sat at his desk in his rooms at the Guild Hall, in despair, his head in his hands. There was no sign of Anna. A search of the upper city had not found her. All inquiries had drawn a blank. And though Master Jadaris had agreed to make a more thorough search, Aitrus knew that they would not find her. Not in D’ni, anyway.

No, Veovis was somehow behind this. He had to be. And this was his revenge—to take Anna.

But what had he done with her?

Aitrus looked up, staring into the air, trying to think.

If he were Veovis, what would he want? Justice? No. It was far too late for justice. Vengeance? Yes, but not simply vengeance; at least, not the blind, uncaring kind that madmen seek, unless the isolation of the prison rock had sent Veovis mad.

No. He could not believe that. Veovis was stronger than that.

Perhaps, but what of A’Gaeris? What was his role in all this? And how had he persuaded Veovis to ally with him against the Guilds?

Betrayal. That was the seed A’Gaeris had planted in Veovis’s mind. Betrayal . The guilds had betrayed Veovis, as they had once betrayed A’Gaeris. And now the guilds had to be punished.

Punished…or destroyed?

Aitrus stood, realizing that there was only one thing to do. They would have to search every inch of D’ni for Linking Books.

“If we can find out where he is linking back to…”

Aitrus looked up. Footsteps. There were footsteps farther down the hall.

He went out into the hallway.

“Ti’ana?...Ti’ana, is that you?”

Aitrus had barely gone two or three steps when the door at the far end of the hall swung open. He stopped dead.

“Veovis?”

Veovis stood there, smiling, a Linking Book held open in one hand.

“Yes, Aitrus, dearest friend. I have your wife. If you want her back, you had better follow me. And no tricks, or Ti’ana will die.”

“No! Wait!”

Aitrus started toward him, yet even as he did, Veovis brought his other hand across, touching the glowing panel.

“Veovis!”

The Book fell to the floor.

So it was true. His darkest thoughts were thus confirmed. Walking across, he bent down and picked up the Book.

Help. Common sense told him he ought to get help.

But what if Veovis meant what he said?

Then common sense would kill his beloved wife.

“No choice,” he said, as if to excuse himself. Then, sensing that only ill could come of it, he lay his hand upon the panel and linked.

 

 

§

 

 

Downstairs the door slammed shut. There were footsteps on the stairs. A moment later A’Gaeris appeared at the top of the stairs, looking about him. Seeing the Linking Book he smiled, then he went across and bent, picking it up. For a moment he studied the glowing panel, his smile broadening; pocketing the Book, he turned and went back down the stairs.

It was time to link back to the island.

 

 

§

 

 

Anna slipped through the open doorway and into the dimly lit chamber. To her right was the study. Through its thin, wooden walls she could hear the low murmur of two voices—those of A’Gaeris and Suahrnir.

She sighed. It looked as if she was never going to get the chance to search the study.

Anna turned, looking about her. There was a narrow bed in one corner of the room. Beside it, against the back wall, were a small desk and chair. A worn silk coverlet lay over the bed. On the desk were a number of thin, coverless books, like child’s exercise books. She picked one up and opened it. It was one of A’Gaeris’s pamphlets—one of his endless ranting tirades against the guilds that had won him notoriety, mainly in the lower city.

Putting the pamphlet aside, Anna quickly examined what else was on the surface. There was a small notebook, locked, she noted, with a tiny silver clasp. A D’ni symbol—a simplification of A’Gaeris’s name—was burned into the leather of the cover. She picked it up and pocketed it. Beneath it, to her surprise, was a tiny picture in a gilded frame. It showed a young woman, barely Anna’s own age by the look of her, her dark hair swept back from a stunningly beautiful face.

That, too, she pocketed.

Anna turned, looking about her once more, checking that there was nothing else—no hidden panels and no hatches in the floor. Satisfied, she hurried back across the room again, meaning to make her way back to the tower.

She had delayed too long. Every moment now increased the chance of her being discovered. Best, then, to cut her losses: to go back to the room at the top of the tower and burn the Linking Books she had.

It would be a start. Besides, she knew much now about their plans. If she could reach Master Jadaris with that knowledge…

There was a sudden noise behind her, a buzz of voices from the central room. Veovis had returned. She heard his voice giving hasty orders. Then there was a strange grunt and the thud of a body falling to the floor.

There were other noises—scraping and scratching noises that she could make no sense of—and then Veovis spoke again, much louder this time.

“Take him down into the cellar. We’ll put him in the cage. I’ll use him as bait for another, much more tasty fish.”

There was laughter, unwholesome laughter, and then the sound of a body being dragged across the room.

So they had taken another guildsman.

The corridor that led to the cellar was on the other side. For the moment she was in no danger of discovery. But time was running out. It was time to prepare things. Time to bait her own trap.

 

 

§

 

 

Back in the top room of the tower, Anna began to search the shelves. She knew what she wanted: potassium nitrate, sulphur, carbon; some liquid paraffin, a length of wick; a tinderbox.

The bottles were labeled, each with a handwritten D’ni symbol, but she glanced at these only to confirm what her eyes already told her. She took the tiny bottles down, one after another, setting them side by side on the worktop, then took a mixing dish and a metal spoon from the side.

There were wicks in a drawer, and a polished silver tinderbox.

“What else?” she asked, her heart pumping quickly in her chest.

One bottle, set aside from all the others on the worktop, had no label. She had noticed it earlier. Its contents were clear, with a faint bluish tinge. Now, curious, she picked it up and unstoppered it, sniffing its contents.

Sputtering, Anna jerked her head back and replaced the stopper, her eyes watering. It was a horrible, noxious mixture; clearly a sleeping draught of some kind. Even a small sniff of it had taken her breath and made her head go woozy.

Anna shivered, then slipped it into her left-hand pocket, knowing that it might have a use.

A heavy iron file lay on one of the trays nearby. She took that too, tucking it into her belt. It would be useful to have a weapon of some kind.

Just in case…

Anna returned to the desk and picked up one of the jars, unstoppering it; yet even as she did, she heard noises from below—a single cry and a splash.

Hurrying to the south window, she looked out. Far below, at the end of the great stone buttress, the cage was now occupied. A man was struggling, spluttering in the water momentarily; then he went still, looking about him, as if coming to a sudden realization of his fate.

As he turned toward her, Anna caught her breath, horrified.

It was Aitrus.

 

 

§

 

 

Veovis glanced at A’Gaeris and smiled.

“Did you hide the Book?”

A’Gaeris pulled the Linking Book from his pocket. “You mean this? ”

The two men were halfway along the tunnel that led from the cage. They had left Suahrnir on the platform, overlooking the cage. Now it was time to carry out the next part of their scheme.

“Are you sure she will come?” A’Gaeris asked, his eyes half-hooded.

“I am certain of it,” Veovis said.

They walked on. Turning a corner, they came to the narrow steps that led up to the gallery. Here they had to go single file.

“Can I ask you something?” A’Gaeris said, as he followed Veovis up.

“Ask,” Veovis said, glancing back over his shoulder as he climbed out through the hatch.

“Why do you want her? I mean, she will never love you. Not while you keep Aitrus prisoner. And if you kill him…”

“Vengeance,” Veovis said, as A’Gaeris ducked out under the rim of the hatch and joined him in the strangely lit gallery.

“Why not simply kill them both?”

“Because I want them to suffer the way I suffered.” Veovis’s face was hard now, much harder than A’Gaeris had ever seen it. “I dreamed of it, when I was on the Prison Age, night after night. I want them to be tormented the way I was tormented. I want them to feel betrayed the way I felt betrayed.”

Behind the thick glass of the gallery windows, strange fish swam slowly, menacingly, their pale red eyes unblinking.

A’Gaeris nodded. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, friend. It was not just my guild membership I lost. I was betrothed. Betrothed to the most beautiful young woman you have ever seen.”

“Ah…” Veovis had been about to move on, to return straight to the study, but now he changed his mind. “What do you want, A’Gaeris? I mean, what do you really want?”

A’Gaeris did not hesitate. “To destroy it all. That is my dream.”

“Then the Guilds…?”

“Are only the start. I want to destroy D’ni the way D’ni tried to destroy me.” A’Gaeris’s whole frame seemed to shudder with indignation. “There! Does that frighten you, Veovis?”

Veovis shook his head. “No. I know now how you feel.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Come…”

 

 

§

 

 

A’Gaeris had thought it was a storage cupboard of some kind, but inside was a long, high-ceilinged room, and lining the walls of that long room were rack after rack of guns and swords. Enough to start a small war.

Veovis turned, staring at the Philosopher thoughtfully. “You once wrote that it is fortunate that the common people are unarmed, for if they were armed, D’ni would fall overnight. Do you still believe that?”

A’Gaeris reached out, taking down one of the swords and examining it. He nodded, impressed. “I do,” he said finally, looking to Veovis with a smile.

“Then will this do?”

A’Gaeris grinned. “I see I badly misjudged you, Lord Veovis.”

 

 

§

 

 

Anna stood at the door, listening, then opened it and slipped out, into the adjacent room. There were voices coming from just down the corridor. Was there another chamber down there, one she had not noticed?

It seemed so. Recessed into the wall, partway along, was a door. It was open the slightest crack and she could hear Veovis and A’Gaeris talking within. Realizing that she might have only one chance, she hurried past and on into the gallery. To her surprise the hatch halfway down on her left was wide open. She edged over to it and listened, then peeked her head around. A flight of steps went down.

She went inside, hastening down the steps, then stopped. Ahead of her, just around a turn, she could hear Suahrnir murmuring something.

The bottle containing the sleeping draught was still in her pocket, the iron file in her right hand. Taking a cloth handkerchief from her pocket, Anna wrapped it about her mouth, then took the bottle from her pocket.

With more confidence than she felt, she stepped out around the corner. Suahrnir was sitting on a platform at the end of the tunnel, overlooking the cage. He had his back to her. Calming herself, she walked on, trying not to make any noise.

She was right beneath Suahrnir when he turned, realizing that she was there. Yet even as he turned, Anna hit him hard over the head with the file. As he collapsed, she pulled the cloth up over her nose and, unstoppering the bottle, poured its contents over his face.

A cloud of thick, white fumes rose from the platform.

Anna blinked, her eyes stinging furiously, then, closing them tight, she edged around Suahrnir and climbed up onto the cage, not daring to take a breath.

The cage swayed from side to side as she moved around the outside of it, as far as she could get from the stinging white cloud. As the cage steadied, she leaned out and raised the silk, taking in a lungful of air.

“Ti’ana? Is that you?”

Aitrus was just beneath her, blinking up at her as if only half conscious. Only his head and shoulders were above the surface of the vile, dark green liquid and she could see that there was a large, dark bruise on the side of his forehead. Seeing him thus, Anna winced, her love for him making her forget her own danger. His hands were tightly bound. They had hooked them over the massive padlock to keep him from sinking down into the water. It was cruel, but it had also probably saved his life.

“It’s all right, my love,” she said gently. “I’ll get you out. But you must be quiet. We must not alert the others.”

“I was stupid,” he said, his eyes flickering closed, as if he could not keep them open. His voice was faint and fading. “Veovis said he had you prisoner. I should have known. I should have brought help.”

“No,” Anna said, pained by the way he blamed himself for this. She took the file from her waist and, leaning across, began to try to force the lock. “You did what you thought best.”

Aitrus coughed. Some of the sleeping gas was now drifting across from the tunnel. Anna could sense its stinging presence in the air. She grimaced then leaned back on the file once more, heaving at it, trying to force the lock, but it would not budge. She needed a longer piece of metal, something with more leverage.

A sudden gust of wind, coming in off the surface of the sea, swept back the drift of noxious white gas.

“Aitrus,” she said, reaching through the bars, trying to touch his brow, her fingers brushing air. “Aitrus…I shall not be long, I promise. I’ll come back for you. So hold on.”

But he could not hear her. His eyes were closed, and whether it was the gas or whether he had slumped back into unconsciousness she could not tell.

Time. Time was against her now.

Taking a huge gulp of air, she pulled the cloth down over her mouth again, then turned and, scrambling back around the cage, ducked back inside the tunnel, her eyes tightly shut as she stumbled through the choking whiteness.

 

 

§

 

 

Veovis was sitting at a table at the end of the armory, fitting together an incendiary device. Five completed bombs lay in a row just by his elbow; long red tubes with bulbous silver ends filled with explosive chemicals. Nearby, A’Gaeris was still working his way through the racks, looking for the ideal weapon for himself.

“We should only use guns when we need to,” Veovis said, looking up at him. “For what we plan, a poisoned dart is best.”

“And the incendiaries?” A’Gaeris looked down the barrel of a hunting gun at Veovis, then set the gun aside. “I would have thought they would notice one of those going off.”

Veovis continued to fit the device together. “These are not for use as weapons, my friend, these are to destroy the Linking Books after we have used them.”

A’Gaeris stared at him. “And the Hidden Linking Books? The ones we already have in place? Did I take those risks for nothing, Veovis?”

“No, but it might be difficult to use them, now that the guilds are more vigilant. Besides, we have a whole store of Books we can use. If time were less pressing I would be less profligate, but as things are…”

A’Gaeris nodded. “You are quite right. And it will, at least, allow us to slip in and slip out at will.” His eyes gleamed. “Think of it, Veovis! They will not know what has hit them!”

Veovis smiled and nodded, then set the sixth bomb aside, next to the others. “We shall be like shadows,” he said, reaching out to take another of the incomplete incendiaries from the rack by his feet. As he set it down on the desk, he glanced across at A’Gaeris again. “Bring the map from the study. We can discuss things while we work.”

 

 

§

 

 

As A’Gaeris stepped into the room, he saw her. Ti’Ana, Aitrus’s wife. She was at the center of the room, beside the table, hunched forward slightly, her back to him. She was very still, as if concentrating on something: reading, perhaps, or studying something.

The map of D’ni…

Smiling, A’Gaeris drew his dagger and tiptoed across until he was no more than a couple of feet from her.

“Do not move, Ti’ana,” he said, a quiet menace in his voice. “I have a knife and I will not hesitate to use it.”

She froze, her shoulders tensed.

“Turn slowly,” he said. “Very slowly. Make no sudden movements.”

She began to turn, slowly at first, very slowly; then, in a sudden rush her arms came up.

And something else. Something heavy and black that seemed to expand into his face, screeching as it did, its sharp claws digging in deeply.

 

 

§

 

 

Veovis stood, turning toward the door. The first scream had made him drop the incendiary; the second startled him into action.

He ran, out of the room and along the corridor, bursting through the first room and into the study. The screaming was louder here, mixed with the bird’s high, screeching call.

A’Gaeris was on the far side of the room, struggling to fend off the ferocious assault of the bird. Blood ran down his face and upper arms. Nearby the golden cage lay on the floor, the chain snapped, the door forced open.

Intruders…

“Help me!” A’Gaeris pleaded, putting an arm out toward Veovis. “In the Maker’s name, help me!”

Veovis stared at his ally a moment, then, drawing the old, long-barreled gun from his belt, crossed the room quickly, ignoring A’Gaeris and vanishing through the far door, heading for the far room and the corridor beyond.

 

 

§

 

 

Anna slammed the door behind her then reached up and slipped the bolt into place. Hurrying over to the bench, she took the stoppers from bottles and jars then began to pour things into various containers.

She could hear A’Gaeris’s screams, even where she was, through the thickness of stone and wood, and knew that Veovis would be coming after her.

Taking her concoction, Anna poured some of the clear, thick liquid over the door, soaking the wood with it, then laid a trail of it across to the far side of the room, where the Linking Books were piled up. That done, she put the bowl aside and went back to the door, sliding the bolt back once again and pulling the door slightly ajar.

She could hear footsteps now, hurrying up the twist of steps.

Anna scrambled back across the room, setting the Linking Book she was to use to return to D’ni down on the desk to one side, open to the descriptive panel. Then, taking the length of wick, she lit it from the tinder, blowing on the smoldering end of it until it glowed.

The footsteps came to the head of the steps and stopped. There was a moment’s hesitation and then the door on the far side of the room was kicked open. Veovis stepped inside, the cocked gun raised, its dark mouth pointed directly at her.

Seeing her, Veovis gave a surprised laugh. “Ti’ana! You were the last person I expected.”

Anna stared back at him defiantly, her left hand hovering over the glowing panel, her right holding the smoldering wick.

Noticing the Books, he blinked, reassessing the situation. “What are you doing?”

“I am putting a stop to this. Before things get out of hand.”

His face grew hard. “Give me the book, Ti’ana. Give it to me and I shall spare you. You and your son both. The rest will die. They have to. But you and Gehn can live… if you give me the Book.”

Anna smiled and dropped the wick onto the pile of Linking Books, igniting it, at the same moment placing her other hand against the linking panel.

As the Books went up in a great rush of flame, Veovis roared and pulled the trigger. The sound of the detonation filled the room as the bullet hurtled toward her disappearing shape. At the same moment, the trail of liquid chemicals flared, the flame running along it like a rail of magma searing through the rock.

There was a great hiss and then the door behind Veovis exploded into flame, throwing him forward, his hair and cloak on fire.

But Anna did not see it. Anna had already gone.

 

 

§

 

 

The great chamber was almost dark. Only at its center, where the five great thrones were, was there a small pool of light, where a single flame flickered between the pillars. Beneath its scant illumination the five great Lords of D’ni sat, their ancient faces etched with deep concern.

“We must search the city from end to end,” R’hira said, echoing what Master Jadaris had said to him not an hour before. “Every room, and every drawer of every desk. We must find these Linking Books and destroy them, else no one here is safe.”

“Is it possible?” another of them asked. “Have we the time or the numbers to make such a search?”

“No,” R’hira admitted, “yet we must make the attempt. Unless we do…”

He stopped dead, staring in astonishment as a figure materialized in the space before the thrones.

“What in the Maker’s name…”

“Ti’ana!” R’hira cried, standing and stepping down from his throne.

Anna looked up, her face pale, then slumped down onto the floor. Blood poured from a wound in her shoulder.

“Bring help!” R’hira cried, speaking to one of the guards who stood in the shadow surrounding them. “Quick now, Guildsman! Ti’ana is badly hurt!”

Yet even as he stooped to try to help her, another figure shimmered into being right beside her.

The man’s face was blackened. His hair was aflame. Smoke curled up from his burning clothes. He was doubled up, almost choking for breath, but even in that state R’hira recognized him at once.

“Veovis!”