The Dreaming Void

INIGO'S FOURTH DREAM

After breaking camp just after dawn the caravan was on the road for three hours before it finally topped the last ridge and the coastal plain tipped into view. Edeard smiled down on it with an adrenalin burst of enthusiasm. With nearly a year spent travelling he was finally looking at his future. Riding on the ge-horse beside him, Salrana squealed happily and clapped her hands together. Several pigs in the back of O'lrany's cart grunted at the sudden noise.

Edeard ordered his ge-horse to stop. The caravan pushed on inexorably, wagon after wagon rolling down the stony road. Directly ahead of him the foothills of the Donsori Mountains fell away sharply to the awesome Iguru Plain below. It stretched away for mile after long mile. A flat expanse of rich farmland, almost all of which was under cultivation; its surface marked out in huge regular fields filled with verdant crops. A massive grid of ditches fed into wide, shallow rivers delineated by protective earthen embankments. Forests tended to sprawl around the lower slopes of the odd little volcanic cones which broke the plain's uniformity. As far as he could see there was no pattern to the steep knolls. They were dotted purely at random.

It was a strange geography, completely different to the rugged surrounding terrain. He shrugged at the oddity and squinted to the eastern horizon. Part imagination, part horizon-haze, the Lyot Sea was just visible as a grey line.

No need to imagine the city, though. Makkathran bestrode the horizon like a sunwashed pearl. At first he was disappointed by how small it was, then he began to appreciate the distance involved.

'Quite something, isn't it? Barkus said as he rode his aged ge-horse level with Edeard.

'Yes, sir, Edeard said. Additional comment seemed superfluous. 'How far away are we?

'It'll take at least another half a day for us to get down to the plain; this last stretch of road down the mountains is tricky. We'll make camp at Clipsham, the first decent-sized town on the Iguru. Then it'll be near enough another day to reach Makkathran itself. He nodded pleasantly and urged his ge-horse onward.

Almost two days away. Edeard stared entranced at the capital city. Allegedly, the only true city on Querencia. The caravan had visited some fabulous towns on their route, large conurbations with wealthy populations; several had parks bigger than Ashwell. At the time he'd though them grand, sure that nothing could actually be larger. Lady, what a bumpkin I am.

'Doubts here, of all places? Salrana asked. 'Those are some very melancholy thoughts you've got growing in your head there.

'Just humbled, he told her.

Her thoughts sparkled with amusement, producing a teasing smile. 'Thinking of Franlee?

'Not for months, he answered with high dignity.

Salrana laughed wickedly.

He'd met Franlee in Plax, a provincial capital on the other side of the Ulfsen Mountains. A spree of bad luck on the road, including broken wheels and sick animals, as well as unusually early autumn storms meant the caravan was late reaching Plax. As a consequence, they'd been snowed in for over six weeks. That was when he met Franlee, an Eggshaper Guild apprentice and his first real love affair. They'd spent most of the awful cold weather together, either in bed or exploring the town's cheaper taverns. The Eggshaper Guild's Master had recognized his talent, offering him a senior apprenticeship with the promise of journeyman status in a year. He'd been this close to staying.

But in the end his last promise to Akeem gave him a stronger direction. Leaving had been so painful he'd been sullen and withdrawn for weeks as the caravan lumbered slowly along the snowy Ulfsen valleys. A misery to live with, the rest of the caravan had grumbled. It took the remainder of winter and putting the Ulfsens between himself and Plax before he'd recovered. That and Roseillin, in one of the mountain villages. And Dalice. And… Well, several more girls between there and here.

'Look at it, he said earnestly. 'We did the right thing.

Salrana tipped her head back, half-closing her eyes against the bright morning light. 'Forget the city, she said. 'I've never seen so much sky.

When he glanced up he understood what she meant. Their high vantage point gave them a view into the azure infinity which roofed the plain. Small bright clouds scudded far overhead, wisps so tenuous they were almost sapphire themselves. They seemed to twist as they traced long arcs above the Iguru before hitting the mountain thermals where they expanded and darkened. The wind above the city always blows in from the sea-, he remembered Akeem saying, when it turns round, watch out. 'What's that smell? he asked, puzzled. The air was fresh, zingy almost, yet somehow tainted at the same time.

There was laughter from the wagon that rolled past. 'You backward village boy! Olcus, the driver, mocked. 'That's the smell of the sea.

Edeard dropped his gaze back down to the horizon. He'd never seen the sea before. In truth, from this distance it didn't look much: a grey-blue smudge line. He supposed it would become more interesting and impressive as they drew nearer. 'Thank you, old man, he called back, and supplied a fast hand gesture. By now, he was on good terms with just about every family in the caravan. Abandoning them in Makkathran was going to be at least as hard as leaving Plax.

'Come on, Salrana said. She ordered her ge-horse forward. After a moment, Edeard followed suit.

'I was talking to Magrith at breakfast, Salrana said. 'She told me this road was the same one which Rah travelled on when he led his shipmates out of the strife which followed their landing on Querencia. He would have seen the city for the first time from this very same spot.

'Wonder what he made of the Iguru, Edeard muttered.

'There are times when I really don't understand you, Edeard. We've reached Makkathran, which I only ever half-believed in anyway. Us two, Ashwell villagers no less, are here at the centre of our whole world. And all you do is talk about the stupid farmland outside.

'I'm sorry. It's… this place is odd, that's all. Look round, the mountains just end, like something cut them off.

'I'm sure there's a Geography Guild if you're that interested, she sniffed.

'Now that's an idea, he said with sudden apparent interest. 'Do you think it would be hard to get into?

'Oh! she squealed in exasperation. Her third hand shoved against him, trying to push him off his saddle. He pushed right back, which sent her hunching down, tightening her grip on the reins. 'Edeard! Careful.

'Sorry. It was something of a standing joke along the caravan that he didn't know his own strength. He shook his head and concentrated on the phalanx of genistars walking alongside the caravan, making sure the ge-horses were pulling wagons in a straight line, ge-wolves kept close, and the ge-eagles spiralled wide. The surface of the road was excellent, laid with large flat stones, well maintained — it was almost like a town pavement. But then this was the main road through the mountains and led directly to the capital. Both eyes and farsight picked out several wagons and small convoys winding their way up and down the broad switchbacks ahead of them. He also saw a group of men on horseback accompanied by ge-wolves who were picking their way leisurely up the road. They'd reach the head of the caravan by noon, he reckoned.

With his senses open wide he slowly grew aware of the city's emanations. It was a quiet background burble, similar to the aura of any human settlement. Except this time he was too far away to be sensing Makkathran's population, no matter how talented and receptive he was. Besides, this had a different tempo to human minds; slower and so much more content. It was the essence of a lazy summer's afternoon distilled into a single long harmonic. Pleasant and relaxing. He yawned.

'Edeard! Salrana called.

He blinked, the worry in her mind switching him to full alertness. His ge-horse was meandering close to the edge of the road. Not that it was dangerous, there was no sheer slope until further down the hill where the switchbacks began, here there was just uneven ground and the curving crest. A quick couple of instructions to the ge-horse's mind corrected his direction.

'Let's try and arrive intact, she said scathingly. 'Lady, but your riding is still terrible.

He was too disquieted to try and correct her with their usual banter. He could no longer sense the city's lumbering thoughts — too much adrenaline pumping through his veins. Now the city was in sight, he was getting genuinely excited. At last the dreadful past was well and truly behind them.

It was midday when the caravan drew to a gradual halt amid the groaning of wood and metal brakes, the snorting of animals and quiet grumbles of humans. They were strung out over half a mile, curving round one of the longer switchbacks which made it awkward for anyone else trying to use the road. The captain of the militia patrol who made them stop was mildly apologetic, but insistent none the less.

Edeard was only a couple of wagons behind the front as Barkus asked, 'Is there a problem, sir? This is our annual trip, we are well known to all the civic authorities.

'I know you myself, Barkus, the captain said as he eyed the caravan's ge-wolves. He was sitting on a midnight-black terrestrial horse, looking very splendid in a ceremonial blue and scarlet tunic with polished brass buttons gleaming down his jacket. Edeard used his farsight to examine the revolver in the man's white leather holster. It was remarkably similar to the one that had belonged to Genril's family. The rest of the militia were similarly armed; they certainly weren't carrying anything like the fast-firing gun of the bandits. Edeard didn't know if that was a good thing or not. If the city did possess such weapons, they probably wouldn't be put out on show with a patrol like this.

'However, I don't remember you having so many ge-wolves before, the captain said.

'We were in the Rulan province last year; a village was sacked by bandits, farms suffered losses in raids. You can't be too careful.

'Damned savages, the captain spat. 'Probably just two tribes fighting over some whore. I don't know why you venture out there, Barkus, they're all bandits and ne'er-do-wells if you ask me.

Edeard slowly sat up very straight, keeping his gaze fixed on the captain. He strengthened his shield around him.

'Do nothing, Barkus shot at him with a longtalk whisper.

'Edeard, Salrana hissed quietly. He could sense the rage in her own thoughts, barely contained. All around him, the minds of his friends were radiating dismay and sympathy.

'But profitable, Barkus continued smoothly. 'We can buy very cheaply indeed out there.

The captain laughed, unaware of the emotional storm gathering around him. 'For which my friends in the city will pay greatly, I suppose.

'That's the essence of trade, Barkus said. 'After all, we do travel at considerable risk.

'Well good luck to you, Barkus. But I am responsible for the safety of Makkathran, so I must request that you keep your beasts on a leash within the city walls. They won't be used to civilization. We don't want any unfortunate accidents.

'Of course.

'You might want to get them accustomed to the idea as soon as you reach the plain.

'I'll see to it.

'Jolly good. And no trading to the denizens of the Sampalok district, eh?

'Absolutely not.

The captain and his men turned round and rode off down the road, their pack of ge-wolves chasing along behind.

Barkus saw the caravan start off again, then urged his ge-horse back to Edeard and Salrana. 'I'm sorry you had to hear that, he said.

'They're not all like that in the city, are they? Salrana asked anxiously.

'Sweet Lady, no. Officers in the militia are usually the younger sons of an old family; little idiots who know nothing of life. Their birth provides them with a great deal of arrogance, but no money. The militia allows them the illusion of continuing status, while all they actually do is search for a wealthy wife. Thankfully they can do no real harm patrolling out here.

Edeard was almost shocked by the notion. 'If they need money, why don't they join a Guild and develop their psychic talent, or begin a new business?

To his surprise, Barkus burst out laughing. 'Oh Edeard, for all the distance you've travelled with us, you still have so much further to go. A nobleman's son earns a living! He laughed again before ordering his ge-horse back to the next wagon.

After Clipsham, Edeard just wanted to take a horse and gallop across the Iguru until he reached Makkathran. Surely it would take no more than a few hours. However, he managed to keep his impatience in check, and dutifully plodded alongside the wagons helping to soothe the ge-wolves who were unused to being on a leash.

It was warm down on the plain, with the gentle constant wind blowing a sea-humid air which Edeard found strangely invigorating. Winter here was a lot shorter than he was used to in the Rulan province, Barkus explained, though those months could see some very sharp frosts and several snow blizzards. By contrast, summer in the city was very hot and lasted for more than five months. Most of the grand families kept villas in the Donsori Mountains where they spent the height of the hot season.

The Iguru's farmland reflected the climate, with luxuriant growth covering every field. The road was lined with tall slender palm trees cloaked in ribbons of cobalt moss and sprouting tufts of scarlet and emerald leaves right at the top. Crops were different to those Edeard was used to. There were few cereal fields here, but plenty of citrus groves and fruit plantations, with acre after acre of vines and fruiting bushes. Some cane fields were being burnt back, sending black smoke plumes churning up high into the clear sky. It was volcanic soil underfoot, which contributed as much to the healthy verdant hue of the vegetation as did the regular rain and sun-soaked sky. Armies of ge-chimps bustled about over the land, tending to the plants, with supervisors riding among them on horses. The farmhouses were grand whitewashed buildings with red clay tile roofs, as big as the Guild compounds back in Ashwell.

For all they spent hours rolling forward that morning, the panorama on both sides of the straight road remained unnerv-ingly similar. Only the volcanic cones offered landmarks by which to measure progress. Edeard could see veins of silver streams running down their slopes before vanishing into the dense skirts of dark-jade trees. But there were no caldera crowns; they rose to simple rounded crests.

Many of them had cottages built on narrow ledges, compact yet elaborate constructions which his friends explained were little more than pavilions for the city's wealthy to spend languid days enjoying the fabulous view; more common was to install a favoured mistress in one.

Traffic began to increase as they neared Makkathran. Terrestrial horses were now more common than ge-horses; their riders wearing expensive clothes. Wagons piled high with produce from the farms and estates of the plain lumbered towards the markets and merchant warehouses. Fancy carriages with curtained windows rattled past. Edeard was surprised to find them shielded from casual farsight by a mild variant of his own concealment ability; their footmen radiated sullen anger discouraging anyone from prying further.

The final approach to the city walls was home to an astonishing variety of trees. Ancient black and grey trunks sentried the road on either side, sending gnarled boughs overhead to form twined arches that were centuries old. At first Edeard thought there had been some kind of earthquake recently. All the trees, no matter their age and size, leaned one way, their branches bowing round in the same direction. Then it slowly dawned on him that the constant wind had shaped them, pushing their branches away from the shoreline.

For the last quarter of a mile, the ground was simple flat meadow, home to flocks of sheep. When they left the shelter of the trees, Edeard was awarded his first sight of the city since they'd descended out of the foothills. The crystal wall faced them, rising sheer out of the grass to a height of thirty yards. Although transparent, it possessed a gold hue, distorting the silhouettes of the buildings inside, making it impossible to gather a true impression of what lay within. It formed a perfect circle around the city, the same height all the way round except for the port on the eastern side where it dipped down to allow the sea to wash against the quays. Querencia's gentle tides had no visible effect on it; the stubborn crystal was as immune to erosion forces as it was to all other forms of assault. Neither bullets nor pickaxes could chip it, glue didn't stick to it. As a defensive barrier it was nearly perfect.

Its only known susceptibility was to telekinesis, which could gradually wear down its strength. That was how Rah opened the city to his people; a powerful telekinetic, he systematically cut through the crystal, shaping three gateways. Legend said each one took him two years to carve out. His followers fixed the huge detached segments to giant metal hinges, transforming them into tight-fitting gates. In the two millennia since, they had only ever been shut eight times. For the last seven hundred years they had remained open.

The caravan passed through the north gate. It was seven yards wide at the base, arching up ten yards above Edeard's head. The gate itself was hinged back flat against the wall on the inside. He found it hard to believe the huge thing could actually still move; the hinges seemed wondrously primitive contraptions, all bulbous iron joints and girders studded with rivets. Yet they hadn't corroded, and the pivots were kept oiled.

Directly inside, to the left of the road, was a broad swathe of paddock land named the High Moat, which followed the wall's curve round to the Upper Tail district next to the port. As horses were prohibited from the main districts many families maintained stables here, simple wooden buildings that had been added to over the centuries; there were also stockades for cattle and traveller pens, even a couple of cheap markets. On the opposite side of the road, the similar crescent of Low Moat led round to the Main Gate. Running along the inner edge of the Moats, was the North Curve Canal, lined with the same whitish material from which the majority of the city was fabricated, resembling icy marble yet stronger than any metal which humans could forge on Querencia.

Edeard stared enchanted at the gondolas as they slid along the canal. He'd seen boats before, Thorpe-By-Water had them in abundance, as did many other towns. Yet those were coarse workaday cousins compared to these elegant black craft. They had shallow keels, with tall prows rising out of the water carved into elegant figures. The cushioned benches of the midsection were covered from the hot sun by white awnings, while the gondolier stood on a platform at the stern, manipulating a long punt pole with easy grace. Each gondola was home to at least a couple of ge-cats. Edeard smiled happily at the traditional genistar forms, which were swarming in and out of the salty water. Unlike the bloated creatures he had shaped back in Ashwell these were streamlined aquatics, with webbed feet and a long sinuous tail.

The surface of the canal was alive with ripples as they continually chased after nimble fil-rats and chewed on strands of trilan weed to keep the canal clear.

'Oh my great Lady, Salrana gasped, gawping out at the city.

'We did the right thing, Edeard said with finality. 'Yes, we did. Now he was inside the crystal wall, the true aura of the city was washing against him. He'd never sensed such vitality before, the kind of exhilarating emotional impact that could only come from so many people pursuing their hectic lives in close proximity. Individuality was impossible to distinguish, but the collective sensation was a powerhouse of animation. He felt uplifted simply by standing and drinking in the sights and sounds.

The caravan turned off the road. Barkus had a quick conversation with a city Travel Master who assigned them three pens on High Moat where they could set up to trade. The wagons rumbled along the narrow track to their final destination.

Edeard and Salrana walked their ge-horses over to Barkus's wagon. An act rich with association to that time back in Thorpe-By-Water when they'd come to the caravan master for help. The old man's family had been setting up the awnings on either side of the ancient wagon. They'd all been strangers back then, curious and suspicious. Now Edeard knew them all, and counted them as friends — which made this so very difficult. Salrana's thoughts were subdued and morose as Barkus turned to face them.

The old caravan master eyed the packs they were both carrying. 'You're really going to stay here, then?

'Yes, sir.

He hugged both of them. Salrana had to wipe some tears from her eyes. Edeard was fighting to make sure the same thing didn't happen to him.

'Have you got enough money?

'Yes, sir, we're fine. Edeard patted at the pocket inside his trousers. Along the route he'd sold enough ge-spiders to pay for weeks in a lavishly appointed tavern; and he was dressed respectably again.

'If it doesn't work out, we'll be here for a week. You're welcome to come with us. Both of you. You'll always have a home on the road with us.

'I will never forget your kindness, Edeard said.

'Nor I, Salrana added.

'Go on then; be off with you.

Edeard could see in the old man's agitated thoughts that this was just as painful for him. He gripped Barkus's arm and squeezed tightly before turning away. Salrana threw her hands round the caravan master's neck, and kissed him gratefully.

The road which had brought them into the city ended just short of the North Curve Canal. They walked beside the waterway for a little while until they found a bridge over. It was made from a tough ochre-coloured variety of the ubiquitous city material, a simple low arch to which wooden railings had been added on either side. Edeard had to clutch his shoulder bag tightly there were so many people using it, bustling against him. But no animals, he realized; not even ge-chimps. The bridge took them into the Ilongo district, which was made up of small box-like buildings, two or three storeys high with vaulting lierne roofs, and walls which often leaned away from perpendicular. Windows followed no pattern: there were angled slits, crescents, teardrops, circles, ovals, but never squares; they all had panes of a thick transparent crystal which grew, shaped, and replenished itself in the same slow fashion as the structures themselves. Entrances were simple arched oblongs or ovals cutting through ground floor walls; it was the humans who'd added the wooden doors, fixing hinges into the structure with nails hammered into place with telekinesis. Over the years the pins would slowly be ejected by the city material as it repaired the puncture holes they'd made, necessitating re-fixing every decade or so. The constant sedate renewal of the city's fabric made the whole place look fresh, as if it had only just been completed.

The gap between the buildings was narrow. Sometimes, beside a canted corner, there was barely a couple of feet left between walls, forcing Edeard to turn sideways to squeeze through; while other passages were broad pavements allowing several people to walk side by side. They came across little squares and courtyards without warning, all of which were provided with fountains of fresh water bubbling up through the top of a thick pillar.

'Does nobody work? Salrana asked in puzzlement after they'd been thoroughly jostled for ten minutes negotiating the narrow pavements. 'The whole city must be walking about.

Edeard simply shrugged. The district was a confusing maze. It was also where he discovered the city material was almost opaque to farsight. He could only sense the murkiest of shapes on the other side of the walls; and he certainly couldn't perceive right through a building. He wasn't used to having his perception cut so short, it unnerved him slightly. Eventually he summoned his ge-eagle, and sent it soaring above the roofs, mapping a way for them.

He wanted to get to the Tosella district where the Eggshaper Guild had its Blue Tower. It was the district to the east of Ilongo, separated by the Hidden Canal. Despite it being so close, they took forty minutes to negotiate Ilongo before crossing the thin canal on a small wooden bridge.

Tosella's buildings were on a much larger scale than the ones they'd seen so far. Long rectangular mansions with tall slit windows stacked on top of each other up to six storeys high and topped with concentric ring domes that intersected each other like waves frozen in mid-swirl. The ground directly outside their walls was fenced off with high slender pillars, separating the public pavement from emblemata mosaics of glittering primary-colour flecks. Their ground floors were arched cloisters enclosing central quads where prim gardens grew in long troughs under the cool tinted light shining through the roof skylights high above. For the first time in the city, he sensed the minds of genistars. A ground floor in one of the mansions had been converted into stables for them. He even glimpsed apprentices and journeymen scurrying round the quads, their thoughts anxious and subdued as they tried to keep in their Master's good graces. It brought a smile to his face as he recalled some of Akeem's more outrageous stories of an apprentice's life in Makkathran.

'I know everyone asks this, Salrana said as they tarried beside one of the huge mansions, admiring the subtle rainbow shades refracting off its glittering snow-white frontage. 'But I wonder who built this place?

'I thought it was the Firstlifes. Isn't that what the Lady said?

'It doesn't actually say that in any of her teachings. All she says is that the city was left by those who came before.

'They couldn't have been humans, then.

'What makes you say that?

'Oh we can use it well enough, the concept of shelter is universal, I suppose. But nothing here is quite right for us. For a start, there were no gates until Rah arrived.

'So the builders sailed in and out via the sea; that certainly ties in with all the canals, she answered with a smile.

'No. He couldn't match her light humour. His gaze swept along the length of the mansion. The root of architecture was species-based, from the basic functionality to the aesthetic; and Makkathran just didn't fit human sensibilities. He felt out of place here. 'Humans never built this place, we just adapted to it.

'Aren't you the know-it-all; and we've only been here an hour.

'Sorry, he grinned. 'But it is intriguing, you have to admit that.

'They say Eyrie district is the really weird one. That's where the Pythia has her church, which is the only building ever formed for humans. The city granted it to the Lady so her flock would be close to the towers when the Skylords finally return.

'Towers?

'Yes. That's where the Skylords alighted the last time they were here, the day they took Rah's spirit to its rest in Odin's Sea.

'Oh. Hey wait, you mean humans designed the Lady's Church?

She gave a mock sigh. 'See? If you'd ever bothered to turn up to church you'd have known that. It's right there in the Lady's scriptures.

He gave the mansion another suspicious look. 'That's like shaping genistars but with buildings. I wonder if the city builders brought the defaults to Querencia.

'If the Geography Guild turn you down you could always apply to the History Guild.

'Cheeky! He took a swipe at her.

Salrana danced away laughing, and stuck her tongue out. Several passers-by gave her a curious look, unused to seeing a Lady's novice behave in such a fashion. She pulled a contrite face and held her hands demurely behind her back, eyes and mind still sparkling with amusement.

'Come on, he said. 'The quicker we get to the Blue Tower the quicker we get you locked up in the novice dormitory where you belong — out of harm's way and not causing any trouble.

'Remember our promise? I'm going to be Pythia and you're going to be Mayor.

'Yeah, he grinned. 'It might take a couple of years, but we'll do it.

Her smile faded away as her thoughts grew sober. 'Edeard, you won't forget me, will you?

'Hey — of course not.

'I mean it, Edeard. Promise. Promise we'll still talk each day, even if it's just a longtalk hello.

He held up a hand, palm towards her. 'I swear on the Lady, I won't forget you. Such a thing is just not possible.

'Thank you. Her impish smile returned. 'Do you want to kiss me again before we both get locked up in separate dormitories each night?

He groaned in dismay. 'Maybe I should just leave with the caravan.

It was Salrana's turn to take a swipe at him.

The Blue Tower was in the middle of the Tosella district, standing at least twice the height of the biggest mansion they'd seen so far. For its walls, the city material had shaded down to a dark azure which seemed to soak up the sunlight, as if the facade possessed its own nimbus of shadow. Standing at the base between flying buttresses which resembled ancient tree roots Edeard felt quite intimidated by the heartland of his Guild. Surely such a structure had never been intended to house a profession which existed to lighten the load of people's lives. It was more like a fortress which bandits would dwell in.

'Are you sure you want to do this? Salrana asked uncertainly, she was just as daunted by the overpowering structure as he was.

'Er. Yes. I'm sure. He wished the vacillation in his thoughts wasn't quite so blatant.

They walked in through a wide door whose resemblance to a giant mouth was uncomfortably obvious. Inside, the walls and floor changed to the darkest red with a surface sheen to match polished wood. Strong beams of sunlight from the high lancet windows cut through the gloom of the broad entrance hall.

Edeard didn't know where to go, there didn't seem to be any kind of official to direct visitors to the appropriate room. His determination was fading fast, leaving him stalled in the middle of the wide open space.

'I somehow don't think this is where the apprentices have their dormitories, Salrana said from the side of her mouth. There were several groups of men in the hall, all talking quietly together. They wore fine clothes under flowing fur-lined gowns with the egg-in-a-twisted-circle crest of the Guild embroidered in gold thread on both collars. Disapproving glances were cast at Salrana and Edeard, followed by a surprising number of people focusing their farsight on the youthful pair.

Edeard's own farsight alerted him to three guards armed with revolvers marching across the entrance hall. They wore light drosilk jackets over their immaculate white cotton tunics. The Guild crest was prominent on their helmets.

The sergeant glowered at Edeard, but was marginally less hostile to Salrana when he saw she was in her full novice dress. 'You two, he grunted, 'what's your business here?

So much for the warm welcome to a fellow Guild member from far away, Edeard thought dourly. Then he realized he wasn't at all intimidated by the guard. After bandits the sergeant and his little squad seemed faintly ludicrous. 'I am a journeyman of the Guild, Edeard said, surprising himself by how level and authoritative his voice was. 'I've come from Rulan province to complete my training.

The sergeant looked as if he'd bitten into a rotten fruit. 'You're very young to be calling yourself a journeyman. Where's your badge?

'It's been a long journey, Edeard said, suddenly not wanting to explain what happened to his village to someone who would never understand life beyond the city. 'I lost it.

'I see. And your letter?

'Letter?

The sergeant spoke slowly, contempt colouring his thoughts. 'Your letter of introduction to the Guild from your Master?

'I have none.

'Are you trying to take the piss, sonny? Your pardon, miss, he said grudgingly at Salrana. 'Leave now before we take you to the Courts of Justice for trespass and theft.

'I have committed no theft, Edeard protested loudly. 'My Master was Akeem; he died before writing a letter of introduction.

'The only reason to trespass here is to thieve something from us you little country shite, the sergeant snapped. 'Now you've gone and fucked me off, and that's not good for you. He reached for Edeard, then blinked in surprise as his hand slithered off an extremely strong telekinetic shield. 'Oh… you asked for this. His third hand tried to grab.

Edeard warded him off easily, then hoisted the sergeant off the ground. The man yelled in shock as his feet kicked about.

'Take the little shite down, he cried at his men. Their third hands closed round Edeard, to no avail. They went for their pistols, finding their arms moving slowly through impossibly thick air.

'Edeard! Salrana squeaked.

Edeard couldn't quite comprehend how things had turned so crazy so fast.

'Enough, a baritone voice commanded.

Edeard's farsight showed him an old man walking across the hall towards them. Long robes flowed behind him as he strode forwards. He'd taken to weight in his latter years, ochre trousers cut high so his curving belly didn't overhang, a baggy shirt to continue the discreet disguise, but his weight was still obvious from the podgy fingers to the rolling neck and heavy jowls. Yet he carried himself with the vitality of a man half his age. Even without sensing his regimented thoughts he was obviously a man of considerable authority.

'Put him down, he ordered Edeard.

'Yes, sir, Edeard said meekly. He just knew this was a Master equal to Akeem. 'I apologise. I was left little cho—

'Be quiet. The man turned to the sergeant, who was straightening his clothes, not making eye contact with anyone. 'And you, Sergeant, need to keep your temper in check. I am not prepared to have the Blue Tower guarded by petty minded paranoia. You will learn a more rational attitude or you'll see your days out guarding a Guild estate on the other side of the Donsori Mountains. Do I make myself clear?

'Sir.

'Away with you while I determine how big a threat this boy presents.

The sergeant led his men away, but not before managing a last look at Edeard which promised dire vengeance.

'Your name, boy?

'Edeard, sir.

'And I am Topar, a Master of the Guild council, and deputy to Grand Master Finitan. That should give you an idea of how deep you just dipped yourself in default crap. My Lady's novice, may I enquire your name?

'Salrana.

'I see. And I judge that both of you have only recently arrived in Makkathran. Correct?

'Yes, sir, Edeard said. 'I'm really sorry about…

Topar waved an irritated hand. 'I should be annoyed, but the name Akeem hasn't been heard in our august Tower for a considerable time. I am intrigued. Did I hear you say he is dead?

'Yes, sir. I'm afraid he is.

For a moment the gusto vanished from Topar's stance. 'A shame. Yes, a very great shame.

'Did you know him, sir?

'Not I, no. But I will take you to someone who did. He will want the details, I'm sure. Follow me.

He led them to an archway at the rear of the hall, and began to climb the broad stairs beyond. As he ascended, Edeard knew he'd been right about whoever created the city not being humans. The stairs were cumbrous, more like a slope of solidified ripples. They curved enough to provide an unsure footing, while their spacing was awkward for human legs. Edeard soon found himself sweating as they continued to climb round and round; his calf muscles weren't used to such strenuous exercise.

At one point, when they must have been four or five storeys above the hall, Topar turned round to smirk at the two youngsters. He grunted as if satisfied by their tribulation. 'Just imagine how much rounder I would be if I didn't have to negotiate these five times a day, eh. He chuckled and carried on.

Edeard was panting heavily when they finally stopped in some kind of large anteroom. He had no idea how high they'd climbed, but the top of the tower could surely only be a couple of feet above them. That altitude would explain how light-headed he'd become.

'Wait here, Topar said, and went through a wooden door bound with thick iron filigrees.

The walls of the anteroom were still red, but lighter than those of the lower floors. Overhead, the ceiling glowed a pale amber, turning Edeard's skin an unpleasant shade of grey. He dumped his shoulder bag on the floor and sank into a large chair of curving wooden ribs. Salrana sat on one next to him, looking thoroughly bewildered. 'Are we in trouble or not? she asked.

'I don't think I care any more. That pig of a sergeant. He knew we were harmless.

She smiled. 'You're not.

He was too tired to argue. His farsight was all but blocked by the tower walls; but he could just sense two minds behind the wooden door. There was very little to discern about their emotional composition, but then walking through the districts he'd noticed how adept city people were in guarding their feelings.

Topar opened the door. 'You can come in now, Edeard. Novice Salrana, if you would be so kind as too indulge us for a moment longer. Someone will be here to take care of you momentarily.

Even before he went into the room, Edeard guessed he was being taken to Grand Master Finitan. As he went in, he nearly faltered as a farsight swept through him like a gust of cold air. The hair on the back of his arms stood up in reaction. A little thought occurred to him that if anyone could see through a psychic concealment, it would be this man.

Grand Master Finitan sat in a high-back chair behind a large oak desk, facing the door. His office must have taken up nearly a quarter of the tower at this level. It was huge, but almost empty; there was no furniture other than the desk and chair. Two of the walls were covered by bookshelves containing hundreds of leather-bound tomes. Behind him, the wall was mostly crystal window with thin lierne ribs, providing a view clear across Makkathran. Edeard's jaw fell open. He only just managed to stop himself running over and gawping like a delighted child. From what he could see at this angle, the undulating rooftops swept away for miles, while the canals cut through them like blue-grey arteries. Looking at it like this, he knew for certain that the city was alive. Here, humans were nothing more than foreign bacteria living in a body they could never fully comprehend.

'Quite a sight, isn't it? Grand Master Finitan said gently. In many respects he was the physical opposite to Topar. Slim and tall, with thick hair worn down to his shoulders, only just beginning to grey. Yet his age was evident in the lines creasing his face. Despite that, his thoughts were tranquil, he was curious and affable rather than dismissive.

Edeard shifted his gaze back to the Grand Master. 'Yes, sir. Er, I apologize again for what happened downstai—

The Grand Master raised a finger to his lips, and Edeard fell silent. 'No more of that, Finitan said. 'You've travelled a long way, yes?

'From Rulan province, sir.

Finitan and Topar exchanged a glance, smiling at some private joke. 'A long way, Finitan said sagely. 'Some tea? His mind sent out a fast longtalk instruction.

Edeard turned to see a door open at the base of one of the bookshelf walls, it was too small for a man, barely four feet high. Ge-chimps scampered out bringing a pair of chairs and a tray. The chairs were positioned in front of the Grand Master's desk, while the tray with its silver tea service was placed on the desk beside a cradle which held a genistar egg.

'Sit down, my boy, Finitan said. 'Now, I understand you claim our colleague Akeem is dead. When did this happen?

'Almost a year ago, sir.

'Those are some very dark thoughts in your mind accompanying that memory. Please tell me the story in its entirety. I believe I'm old enough to endure the full truth.

Embarrassed at his mind being so transparent, Edeard took a deep breath and began.

Both the Grand Master and Topar were silent when he finished. Eventually, Finitan rested his chin on steepled forefingers. 'Ah, my poor dear Akeem; for his life to end like that is an unforgivable tragedy. An entire village slaughtered by bandits. I find that extraordinary.

'It happened, Edeard said with a flash of anger.

'I'm not questioning your tale, my boy. I find the whole concept deeply disturbing, that there is some kind of society out in the wilds different to our own; and one which is so implacably hostile.

'They're animals, Edeard growled.

'No. That's your instinctive reaction; and a healthy one it is, too. But to organize such a raid is quite an accomplishment. He sat back and drank some tea. 'Could there really be a rival civilization somewhere out there beyond our maps? They have concealment techniques and fanciful weapons. I'd always believed such things were the provenance of this city alone.

'You have the repeat-fire guns? Edeard asked. In all his travels, no one had ever heard of such a thing. A year of constant dismissal had made him doubt his own memories of that terrible night.

Finitan and Topar exchanged another glance. 'No. And that is more worrying than knowing how to conceal yourself. But how lovely that Akeem knew the technique which is supposed to be practised only by Guild Masters.

'He was a Master, sir.

'Of course. I mean those of us who sit on the council. Sadly, Akeem never achieved that. It was politics of course. I'm afraid to say, young Edeard, that you are going to learn life here in the city is all about politics.

'Yes sir. Did you know Akeem, sir?

Finitan smiled. 'Have you not worked it out yet, my boy? Dear me, I thought you quicker. We share a bond, you and I. For he was my Master when I was a lowly young apprentice here.

'Oh.

'Which means you present me with a very unpleasant problem.

'I do? Edeard said anxiously.

'You have no formal letter of confirmation from your Master. Worse than that, with your village gone, we cannot ever confirm that you were taken in by the Guild.

Edeard smiled uncertainly. 'But I know how to sculpt an egg. His farsight swept through the egg on the Grand Master's desk, revealing the folded shadows of the embryo inside. 'You have sculpted a ge-dog; I don't recognize some of the traits, they're outside the traditional form, but it is a dog. Two days from hatching, I'd guess.

Topar nodded in appreciation. 'Impressive.

'Akeem was the best Master, Edeard said hotly.

Finitan's sigh was heavier than before. 'You have obviously received Guild training, and you clearly have skill as well as strength. And that is the problem.

'I don't understand, sir.

'You say Akeem made you a journeyman?

'Yes, sir.

'I cannot accept you into the Guild at that level. I know this seems intolerably harsh, Edeard, but there are formalities which even I have to follow.

Edeard was aware of his cheeks burning. It wasn't quite anger, but all he could think of was the pettiness of the Guild Master back in Thorpe-By-Water. Surely the Grand Master, the leader of the whole Eggshaper Guild, couldn't be so small-minded; what he said was law to the Guild. 'I see.

'I doubt it, but I do sympathize with the exasperation you must feel. I will be delighted to accept you into the Guild here in Makkathran, Edeard, but it must be as a junior apprentice. I cannot make exceptions, especially not in your case.

'What do you mean?

'To acknowledge your journeymen status without a formal letter from your Master will lay me open to a charge of favouritism from others on the Guild council.

'Politics, Topar said.

'I understand, Edeard whispered. He was frightened he was going to burst into tears in front of them. To get to Makkathran, to be in the presence of the Grand Master, then to be told all he had achieved was worthless because he lacked a piece of paper… 'Pardon me, but that's stupid, sir, he said sullenly.

'It's much worse than that. But I appreciate your politeness, my boy.

Edeard sniffed and wiped his nose. 'How long would it take me to get back to being a journeyman?

'Here at the Blue Tower, and assuming you have the appropriate talent: seven years. Appointing you a journeyman at your age was… ambitious, even for Akeem. But at the same time so very typical of him.

'Seven years, Edeard repeated numbly. Seven years of repeating every lesson and knowledge gift he'd ever undergone. Seven years of having to hold himself back. Seven years of obedience to journeymen less able than himself. Seven years!

'I know what you're thinking, and I'm not even using farsight, Finitan said gently. 'It is a terrible thing to ask you to undergo.

'I'm not sure I can, Edeard said. 'I thought when I came here I wanted nothing more than to be a part of the Guild, but now… These formalities, Akeem always said I would find them so difficult. I thought he was teasing.

'Listen to me, Edeard, Finitan said. 'For I am about to say something which borders on the sacrilegious.

'Sir?

'The hierarchy we have in the Guilds, not just ours, but all Guilds, exists for those who seek to further themselves within our political system. Talent in your chosen field plays a part, but always it is down to money and politics. That is the way things are here in the capital. If you are not born into a grand family and have ambition then you join a Guild and fight your way to the top. Now consider that very carefully because this is a choice that will decide the rest of your life for you. Is the Eggshaper Guild what you truly want? It is what I wanted, and I have achieved my goal. I am Grand Master. But look at the battles I have to fight on every level. I am surrounded with so many people seeking the same thing, seeking this seat in this office, that I cannot make an exception for someone as gifted as yourself because a hundred years ago I had a Master that went on to teach you. Is that sanity, Edeard? Is that the life you want for yourself? To have a dozen such considerations every day, to be unable to put a foot wrong, to continue tradition no matter how dry and worthless it is because that is what supports you. To be unable to change, even though change was the one thing above all that used to drive you. That is what I am, Edeard, that is what Topar is. I despair of myself at times, of how helpless I have become, entrapped in the very system I once wanted to alter and improve.

'But, sir, if you can't make changes, who can?

'Nobody can, Edeard. Not now, not in these times. Our society is mature. Change is instability. That is why every institution we have resists change. To maintain the status quo is our sole objective in life.

'That's wrong.

'Yes, it is. But what do you want to do about it? Do you want to spend seven years working your arse off to become a journeyman, to make that first real step towards receiving Master status, at which point your talent is irrelevant and the politicking begins in earnest. You build allies and make enemies on every council upon which you sit in order to gain greater power and control. But it is only power and control over the councils. Ultimately it amounts to very little.

'Are you saying I should go back and join the caravan?

'No. My offer to admit you to the Guild is genuine and remains open while I am Grand Master. Who knows? Maybe you will make a difference if you make it to this office. I should tell you now that nobody under a hundred years old has ever sat here.

'I don't know, Edeard said helplessly.

'There is one alternative. You already know how to sculpt eggs, by joining the Guild you would be acknowledging your life is now orientated to a political goal. However, the city constables are always seeking recruits. It is a noble profession. My position on the Upper Council allows me to sponsor you into their ranks. They would delight in accepting someone with such a strong third hand. And this city desperately needs men of good stature to enforce the law. Without that we will all become nothing.

'A constable? He wasn't even sure what a constable was.

'Even a city as sophisticated as Makkathran has crime, Edeard. Decent people, especially those in the poorer districts, live in fear from gangs who roam the streets at night. Merchants suffer thefts and increase their prices accordingly, which injures everyone. You would be helping people directly. And immediately. Unlike the other Guilds, constable apprentices are not tucked away out of sight toiling to make their Master's life easy. The hierarchy of the constables is a lot less complex than any normal Guild. The prospect for advancement is good. You're smart and strong. I will not delude you that it is an easy life, for it is not. But you've even been in a real life or death fight, which is more than any other recruit. You should do well.

'I'm not sure.

'Of course not. I didn't expect you to give me an answer immediately. You need time to think about your future. What you decide now determines the rest of your life. Why don't you escort your friend to her church, then take a good look around. Get a feel for the city before you make your mind up. If you do want to give the constables a try, longtalk Topar here, and we will arrange for your admission.

'Thank you, sir.

'You are welcome. And Edeard.

'Sir?

'I'm glad Akeem had such a gifted pupil at the end. It wouldn't have been easy for him in Ashwell; you must have helped enrich his life considerably.

'Thank you. Edeard rose from the seat, knowing his time was up. 'Sir? Why did Akeem leave the Blue Tower?

Finitan smiled fondly. 'He was like you, my boy. He wanted to make a difference, to help people. Here, he could do very little.

Outside our crystal wall, in Ashwell, I suspect he had a profound effect on the lives of the villagers. 'Yes, sir; he did.

'What happened in there? Salrana demanded when Edeard reappeared in the anteroom. 'You don't seem very happy.

'I'm not, he admitted and picked up his shoulder bag. 'Come on, we need to get you to the church before nightfall. I'll tell you what happened on the way.

'You can't give up, Salrana said as they crossed a bridge over Grove Canal into the Eyrie district. Her voice was pleading. 'Not after so much.

'Finitan was right, though. What's the point? I can already shape eggs as well as just about anyone. If I join the Guild I'll be doing it to climb up the hierarchy, nothing else. And what's there even if I do become Grand Master? Sitting at the top of a tower organizing the Guild while everyone else on the council waits for me to make a mistake. I'd have a million enemies and no friends, and nothing will change. I won't be helping anyone. Remember Ashwell, what it was like before people accepted the genistars could improve their life? Well Makkathran is a thousand years along from that. You can't shape better genistars, you can't increase the amount in use here.

'Then when you become Grand Master you must push genistars out on people next to the wild lands. The Eggshaper Guild can still make a difference to everyone beyond the Iguru Plain. You've seen what life's like in the distant provinces. Make it better for them, Edeard, make their life as easy as it is for everyone here.

'It's too much, he said. 'I can't do it, Salrana. Most of all, I can't stand seven years as an apprentice again. I just can't. I've learned the Guild teachings, I've been on the road fending for myself for a year. Any position less than journeyman would be a huge step backwards for me. I'm sorry. He could just see Akeem shaking his head in that weary way of his. The guilt was terrible.

She stroked his cheek, which brought astonished glances from passers-by. 'I'm not going to give up on you. And I'm certainly not going to let you give up on your own dream. Not after what we've been through.

'I don't know what I'd do without you.

'You're welcome, she said spryly.

He glanced up at the strangely twisted spires that jutted out of the ground like gigantic stalagmites. Even the smallest was higher than the Blue Tower. There were no windows or balconies, just a single entrance at ground level leading to a central spiral stair. Right at the tip, they flared out into broad platforms that looked terribly unstable, as if they would snap off at any second.

After the madcap bustle of the other districts they'd experienced, Eyrie was almost deserted by comparison. With night falling, the devout were making their way to the central church of the Empyrean Lady for the evening service of prayer and thanksgiving. Light was beginning to shine out of crevices in the crinkled towers around them, washing the hard ground in a pale tangerine illumination. Edeard regarded it curiously, realizing it was the same glow that had lit his way up the stairs of the Blue Tower, somehow the city material emitted it without heat.

'Where will you go tonight? she asked.

'I don't know. Find a cheap tavern with a room, I suppose.

'Oh Edeard, you'll be so lonely there. Why don't you go back to the caravan? Anyone there will be happy to lend you a cot.

'No, he said firmly. 'I won't go back.

She pressed her teeth together in dismay. 'Your pride will be the end of you.

He smiled. 'Probably.

The Lady's central church was impressive. A large cloud-white dome with the top third made of the same crystal as the city wall. Three wings radiated out from the middle, lined with balconies.

'I'm here, Salrana said in wonder. Tears glinted in her eyes and her mind shone with happiness. 'The Lady herself lived the last years of her life here. Can you feel how sacrosanct this ground is? It's all real, Edeard. The Lady's message to the word is real.

'I know, he said.

The main door to the church was wide open, shining a broad fan of rose-gold light across the broad plaza outside. Several Mothers dressed in splendid white and silver robes stood on the threshold to give a personal welcome to their congregation. Salrana straightened her shoulders and walked up to the first. There followed a long conversation which Edeard did his best not to eavesdrop on. It culminated with the Mother embracing Salrana. Another two Mothers hurried over at her longtalk call. They all began chattering excitedly around the suddenly overwhelmed girl.

Salrana turned, holding an arm out to Edeard. 'They'll take me in, she said, her face suffused with delight.

'That's good, he said softly.

'Come, child, said the first Mother, and put her arm protectively around Salrana. 'Young man.

'Yes, Mother.

'We commend you for aiding our lost soul. May the Lady bless you for what you have done.

He didn't know what to say, so he just ducked his head gracelessly.

'Will you stay for the service?

'I, er, have to get to my lodgings, thank you. He backed away and turned, walking quickly across the plaza.

'Don't forget, Salrana's longtalk voice chided him. 'Talk to me first thing tomorrow. I want to know that you're all right.

'I will.

Even with the cold orange light shining down from the twisted towers, he was unnerved walking through the empty district. The dark upper sections of the towers formed black silhouettes against the glowing night sky. His mind kept firmly focused on the warm aura of human minds on the other side of the Grove Canal. Before he reached any bridge he came to a decision. His farsight strained to reach the Blue Tower. The sparks of minds were very hard to distinguish through its walls, but he persevered and eventually found one he recognized.

'Excuse me, sir? he longtalked to Topar.

There was a small burst of surprise from the man, quickly smothered. 'Where are you, Edeard?

'In Eyrie, sir.

'And you farsighted me through the walls of the Blue Tower from there?

'Er, yes, sir.

'Of course you did. So what can I do for you?

'I know this probably seems sudden to you, sir, but I have thought over what the Grand Master said to me. I'd like to join the constables. There's nothing else for me here.

'Yes, we did make that promise to you, didn't we. Very well. Report to the main constable station in the jeavons district. By the time you get there they will be expecting you. Your letter of sponsorship will be with the captain in the morning.

'Yes, sir. Please thank the Grand Master for me, sir. I'll not let him down.

'Somehow Edeard, I don't think you will. One word of advice from a lifelong citizen of Makkathran.

'Sir?

'Don't let your fellow constables realize how strong you are, not at first. It may attract the wrong kind of interest. Politics, remember?

'I remember, sir.

'Get up you little turds!

Edeard groaned, immensely tired, blinking against the orange light flooding down into the dormitory. His thoughts were a confused whirl as reality intruded into the shrinking dream.

'Come on. Up! I haven't got the time to nurse you pathetic tits. If you can't even get up in the morning what use are you? None. Which doesn't surprise me in any respect. I want every one of you dressed and in the small hall in five minutes. Anyone who doesn't make it before I close the doors can piss off right back home to your mummy again. Now move it.

'Whaa—? Edeard managed. Someone walked past the end of his bed and whacked his feet with a truncheon. 'Ouch!

'If you think that hurt, wait till I get to work on your feelings, farm boy.

Edeard hurriedly pushed the blanket down and rolled out. There were six bed alcoves in the dorm room, only two were empty. He'd met the other constable recruits last night, a quick session before Chae, their squad's training sergeant, marched in and barked at them to shut up and get some sleep. 'Because you've got an early start in the morning.

As he struggled into his shirt, Edeard suspected it was Chae who'd just woken them. The voice was familiar.

'He's got to be kidding, said Boyd, a tall lad with lank blond hair and large ears. The fourth son of a baker in the Jeavons district not far from the station, he was in his early twenties and as he saw his elder brother take on more and more of the bakehouse he finally acknowledged he wasn't going to inherit any part of the family business. His sisters were married off, and his other brothers had all left the district to forge their own way forward. He lacked their entrepreneurial streak, so decided the only way out was the Guilds or signing up with either the militia or the constables. He didn't have the money to buy into the militia; and his psychic talents were limited.

'Oh no he's not, Macsen said as he hurriedly pulled up his own trousers. His story was similar to Boyd's. He was the unrecognized son of a mistress to a grand family's patriarch. Usually such a father would quietly buy such an offspring a minor commission in the militia or smooth the way for entry to a professional Guild such as the lawyers or clerks. Unfortunately, this patriarch chose to travel on one of his trading ships voyaging south along the coast when one of the Lyot Sea's rare storms blew up. The wife and eldest son threw Macsen and his mother out of their estate cottage on the Iguru even before the memorial service had been held.

Edeard shoved his bare feet into his boots. 'We'd better do as he says, at least until we figure out how serious the officers are, he said. He looked at the locker beside the cot where his shoulder bag was resting, and briefly wondered if it would be safe. Not that there was much of value inside. And anyway, this is a constable station.

'Chae's serious all right, Dinlay said. Their final room mate was also a youngest son, but his father was a constable. As such, Dinlay was the only one to already have a uniform. He was doing up the silver buttons on the front of his dark-blue tunic. The little metal circles had been polished to a sheen, as had his black ankle-high boots. The trousers were pressed, showing a sharp crease down the front. It wasn't a new uniform, but you had to look carefully to see any wear. Dinlay had told them last night it used to belong to his father when he was a probationary constable. Out of the four of them, he seemed to be the only one enthusiastic about their new profession. He used a longtalk whisper to tell them, 'Father said sergeant Chae is a heavy drinker. He was sent to this station because he's screwed up everywhere else in the city.

'So they put him in charge of training recruits? Macsen exclaimed.

Dinlay winced, glancing about uncomfortably. 'Not so loud. He doesn't like being reminded he threw his career away.

Boyd chuckled. 'Career. In the constables. Aren't you the comedian.

Dinlay gave him an angry look before putting his wire-rimmed glasses on. There was something about him which reminded Edeard of Fahin, not just his short-sight problem, but the way he was so dedicated to his life choice, yet at the same time so obviously wasn't cut out for it.

Edeard shivered despite pulling on a thick woollen jumper. He hadn't thought of Fahin in a long time, and his disturbingly weird dream left the memory of resurrected skeletons lingering like a bad aftertaste. It was an unfortunate combination to be starting his first morning with.

Not that it was morning yet, he noticed as they scurried down the station's central stair to the small hall where they would spend the next six months learning their new craft. The glowing nebulas of Querencia's night sky were still visible through the feathery curtain of cloud drifting in from the sea. Dawn was at least another hour away.

Edeard still wasn't used to the way Makkathran buildings blocked his farsight. So he was surprised when they arrived in the hall that another probationary constable was already there along with Sergeant Chae. She was about his age, perhaps a little older, with dark hair cut shorter than he'd ever seen on a girl before. Her face was rounded with chubby cheeks and what looked like a permanent scowl. Even by Makkathran standards, her thoughts were heavily veiled, allowing no hint as to her true feelings. Edeard tried not to be too obvious in the way he checked her out, but when his eyes switched from her legs — long but thighs rather too plump — to her chest he suddenly realized she was watching him. She raised an eyebrow in scornful query. His cheeks reddened and he turned away.

Chae was standing at the head of the room, under one of the ceiling's circular light patches. Thankfully, his anger seemed to have vanished. 'Very good, boys and girls, almost on time. Now believe it or not, this early morning is not designed with the sole purpose to make your lives miserable, I'll have plenty of opportunity for that over the next few months. No. Today I want us to get acquainted. That means, we'll be starting with some simple tests to discover the level of your psychic abilities — or the lack of them. This way we can combine you into a squad which together will perform a great deal better than the sum of its parts. And believe me you will need to work together. There are gangs out there who will happily shred your flesh and feed you to the fil-rats if you try and interrupt their activities.

Edeard wasn't quite sure he believed that, and hoped his thoughts didn't show his doubt. He concentrated on trying to achieve the same passivity that everyone else was displaying.

'Constable Kanseen, would you begin please, Chae said. He gestured at the bench in front of him. There were five metal balls resting on the ancient wood, the smallest was the size of a human fist, while the others were progressively larger. A sixth ball sat on the floor, a good eighteen inches in diameter.

'Which one? Kanseen asked.

'You just show me what you can do, young lady, Chae said. There was a strong note of contempt ringing through his voice. 'That way I can assess what duties to assign you. If any.

Kanseen's face hardened into an even more disapproving scowl. She glared at the fourth ball. It slowly rose into the air.

Macsen whistled approvingly and clapped. The other probationary constables grinned appreciatively. Edeard took a moment, and joined in the acknowledgement. He assumed someone had given her the same advice as him about not revealing her full strength.

'That it? Chae asked.

'Sir, Kanseen grunted.

'Okay, thank you. Boyd, let's see what you're made of.

A grinning Boyd stepped forward. The fourth ball quivered and rose a couple of inches above the wood. Boyd's brow glistened with perspiration.

Macsen managed to lift the fifth ball. Dinlay produced a confident grin and elevated the fifth and second balls, which drew him a heavy round of applause. Even Kanseen joined in.

'All right, Edeard, show them how the countryside is so much better than the city.

Edeard nodded slowly and moved forward. The others were watching eagerly. He was sorely tempted to fling the sixth ball right at the sergeant, but Topar's caution was still fresh in his mind.

His third hand closed round the fifth ball and sent it bobbing up through the air until it was halfway to the ceiling. The others cheered. He lifted the second ball, then made a show of straining to lift the third, allowing it to hover a few inches above the wood.

The first ball shot off the table and streaked towards Edeard. His shield hardened, deflecting it easily enough. At the same time he dropped the three balls he was holding aloft.

All of the probationary constables fell silent, staring at him and Chae.

'Very good, Edeard, Chae drawled. 'You almost convinced me. Little too much time between the hit and the drop, though. Work on that.

Edeard gave the sergeant a sullen stare.

Chae leaned forward, in a stage whisper he said: 'I have friends in the Eggshaper Guild guard, lad.

Edeard reddened.

'Constables should be honest above all else, Chae continued. 'Especially with their own squad mates. Ultimately your lives may depend on each other. Now do you want to try again?

Edeard pulled the sixth ball into the air. He heard Boyd gasp in surprise.

'Thank you, Edeard, Chae said. 'Now then; farsight. I have placed some markers around the district. Let's see who can find what.

Edeard let the sixth ball down gently. He wondered what Chae would have said if he'd known how much more he could lift.

The psychic tests went on for another hour, measuring their various talents until Chae declared he'd had enough of them. Edeard was interested in the results. Kanseen had a farsight almost as good as his own, while Dinlay could probably long-shout halfway across the Iguru Plain — a capability he was inordinately proud of. Macsen's shield seemed disproportionaly stronger than his third hand — nothing Chae threw at him got through. Boyd was all round unexceptional. It left Edeard wondering if he was above average or if his squad mates were distinctly below average. Sergeant Chae's psychic ability was certainly powerful enough.

Chae told them to get some breakfast then report for uniform fitting. 'If any of you have money I'd advise you to spend it on your tunic. Those without money will have the cost taken out of their pay for the next six months, and I assure you it won't leave you with much at the end of the week.

They trooped along to the station's main hall, a long chamber with an arching ceiling and a big crystal window at the far end. Some of the benches were already occupied. A sergeant told them the bench at the far end would be theirs for the duration of their probationary period. The rest of the constables ignored them.

Ge-monkeys hurried out of the kitchen bringing crockery. They were adept at receiving orders, Edeard found when he instructed one to bring tea and scrambled eggs. At least the station provided their food. He wondered if he should try to longtalk Salrana. The sun was just starting to rise outside.

'I've never seen anyone lift so much, Boyd said. 'You've got a lot of talent, Edeard.

Edeard shrugged.

'I claim first rights to stand behind him when the shit starts flying, Macsen said. 'And the bullets.

'You all look like you can handle yourselves if we get pushed into a corner, Edeard said.

'Don't have a lot of choice, do we? Macsen said. 'Not enough skill for a Guild, and not rich enough to buy into the militia. So here we are, all of us clinging to the arse end of life and we're only just starting out. One big long fall into the sewage from here on in, my fellow failures.

'Ignore him, Dinlay said. 'He's just bitter at the way he got treated by his father's family.

'Not as bitter as they'll be when I'm through with them, Macsen said with unexpected heat.

'Plans for revenge? Kanseen asked.

'Don't have to plan. Those arrogant turds break the law a dozen times a week. One day I'll have the clout to have the whole lot of the bastards locked up and ruined.

'Now that's what I like to see: ambition.

'How come you didn't join a Guild, Edeard? Macsen asked. 'You have more psychic talent than the rest of us put together.

'I don't want to be ordered around for the next seven years, he told them simply.

'Lady bless that, Dinlay said. 'We just have to grit our teeth for six months and we've made it.

'That's a curious definition of making it, Kanseen said in a dismissive voice as a ge-monkey brought her a tray with a bowl of porridge and a tall glass of milk. 'Being allowed out on to the streets by ourselves to be shoved around by gangs and get beaten up trying to stop tavern fights.

'Then why are you here? Macsen asked.

She took a long drink of milk. 'Do you see me being a proper little wife to some oaf of a tradesman?

'Not all tradesmen are oafs, Boyd said defensively.

Macsen ignored him. 'Good for you, he told Kanseen.

Her head turned ponderously to stare at him. 'Not interested, thanks.

Edeard grinned while Dinlay and Boyd both laughed.

'Me neither, Macsen insisted, but he'd lost the moment and sounded very insincere.

'So is Chae right about buying the uniform? Edeard asked. He was conscious that he probably had more coinage in his pocket than the others.

'Depends, Dinlay said. 'If you're definitely going to be a constable then it doesn't matter how you pay. But if you're uncertain then you're best off having them take it from your wages, that way when you leave after a couple of weeks you hand the uniform back and you haven't lost any of your own money.

'Oh face facts, Macsen said. 'If we're here, it's not because we're uncertain: we're plain desperate.

'Speak for yourself, Dinlay said. 'This is my family profession.

'Then I apologize. I don't have the nicety of alternatives.

'You could have joined the gangs, Kanseen said lightly. 'It probably pays better.

Macsen showed her a fast hand gesture.

'How bad are they? Edeard asked. 'The gangs, I mean. I'd never heard of them before I reached town.

'Lady, you really are from the countiyside, aren't you, Macsen said. 'When did you get here?

'Yesterday.

'Yesterday! he said it in a voice so loud that several constables glanced curiously over at their table.

'Yesterday, Edeard said firmly.

'Okay, well, too late now. The gangs are big in some districts and not in others; the majority are based in Sampalok. If you're rich they're not much of a problem, if you're poor then it's more difficult for you. They specialize in protection. Think of them as an alternative tax system to the Grand Council.

'But with violence, Dinlay said. 'They're murderous scum, and they should be wiped out.

'After first being fairly found guilty in court, Macsen said with a smile.

'They're a real problem and getting worse, Boyd said. 'My brother is having to pay them to leave the bakery alone, and he's only ten minutes away from this station; which puts him about as far from Sampalok as you can be. It used to be safe there; my father never used to have such trouble.

'Why doesn't he report them to the constables? Edeard said.

Macsen gave a disrespectful snort. 'Take a look around you, Edeard. Would you ask us to protect you from an organized gang who think it's funny to throw your children or you mother into the canal with a rock tied to them? Are you going to stand outside a baker's shop for twenty-four hours a day for ten years just to save them? Do you think Chae would let you? And if he did, what about everyone else in the district? No. They're a fact of life in Makkathran now. The best the constables do is maintain an uneasy truce and stop us from falling into complete anarchy.

'So young, so cynical, Kanseen said. 'Ignore them, Edeard, it's nothing like as bad as they say.

'I hope not, he said in a subdued voice. Maybe he was still suffering from the shock of city life, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that Grand Master Finitan hadn't been entirely honest with him about life in Makkathran.