‘What will they do?’ What am I to do, Tiaan thought desperately. I can’t destroy the amplimet, and I can’t leave with hungry lyrinx outside.

‘They will watch and wait. Once a declaration comes, they will return in force.’

‘And you?’

‘Tirthrax has stores enough to feed an army, and hiding places they will never find. You need not fret for me.’ She got down.

Tiaan followed her. ‘Malien, I –’

‘You’d better go.’

‘But they’ll eat me.’

‘If you’re flying the construct they’ll never catch you.’

Her heart lurched. ‘Where are we going?’

‘I’m not going anywhere. I don’t dare, with the Well in this state.’

Tiaan did not know what to say. ‘But the construct isn’t mine.’ How she wanted it!

‘It was abandoned in my city. I give it to you, freely and unencumbered.’

It was the greatest gift in the world. Too great a gift, undeserved. Why did Malien offer it? ‘Thank you,’ said Tiaan uneasily, ‘but … why not keep it for yourself?’

Malien walked across the great hall, head down, hands tucked in her loose sleeves. Tiaan watched her go, and return.

‘You’ve got to take the amplimet away, far and quickly. How else can you do that? The construct won’t fly without the amplimet, so it’s no use to me here.’

‘You could hide the amplimet outside until the Well has stabilised.’

‘It would still be too close. The amplimet must be taken a hundred leagues, at least. Since I cannot take it, you must. And also, Tiaan, in my heart I know that old humans and Aachim are both forms of humanity. Perhaps Minis was drawn to you for a reason. Maybe he can see the future and you are vital to it. There is something about you.’

Something small, frightened and helpless, but Tiaan did not argue. She had coveted the construct for too long.

‘The machine is well provisioned,’ Malien continued, ‘but take what you want from my storerooms. Anything at all.’

‘Thank you.’ What conditions would she put on the gift? Nothing came without an obligation.

Tiaan was exhausted but there was no time for sleep. She spent the rest of the day checking everything and practising. The strong force took a deal of getting used to, for it either flowed like a torrent or not at all. It required much more control, and affected both her mind and her sight. Once, her vision went blue for a minute before flashing back to normal. Another time she thought she was seeing double, a strange hallucination where what she saw through her left eye was a few seconds later than her right. She shook her head and the effect vanished, but another problem remained. Her view of the strong force tended to slip ‘off plane’, which would be disastrous if she was flying. If not for her visual memory, she could not have done it at all.

She would never master the machine in time. Tiaan was terrified of the strong forces; she knew so little about them and Malien could not help. She had to understand them on her own.

‘The design of the flying controller seems a little primitive for Rulke,’ said Malien that evening. ‘Perhaps that’s the problem. There may be something about the original design we haven’t discovered. You’d better get some sleep.’

‘But the Well …’

‘I can hold it a little longer. The morning will be fine, but don’t sleep in.’

That was not comforting. Tiaan kept practising and, by late that night, felt she could operate the machine in relative safety, in its hovering state. Flying was a different matter. When high up, she could not tell how fast she was moving and, if the visibility was poor, it was hard to know whether she was going down or up. But it would have to do.

Rising at first light, she returned to the machine, disabled the sentinels the way Malien had taught her, filled containers with water and did her last checks.

As she climbed out, Malien appeared with a basket and steaming mugs, and a rolled map. ‘This may be of use to you in your travels.’

The map was entitled Part of the Southern Hemisphere of Santhenar, and depicted all the lands between the tropical Isle of Banthey in the north and the frozen Kara Agel in the south.

‘Thank you,’ said Tiaan. ‘It’s beautifully drawn. It must be very old.’

‘Very,’ Malien said dryly. ‘I drew it last night.’

They sat beside the machine for a last meal together.

‘I wish you luck with your construct,’ Malien said.

Tiaan frowned. ‘I don’t like that name. It’s cold, like Vithis.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I shall call it thapter.’

‘Good choice,’ Malien laughed. ‘Where will you go? Back to your own people?’

Tiaan had spent half the night thinking about that, but had not come to a decision. ‘I don’t know. The manufactory is a long way from here. I may go west.’

‘You’ll see plenty of the enemy. The war is at its worst over there.’

‘Then the thapter will be needed.’ Tiaan stood up. Malien was more a mystery than ever. ‘I’d better go.’

‘I hate long farewells.’ Malien embraced her and stood back.

Tiaan climbed in and reached for the controller.

‘Wait!’ called Malien. ‘I have a gift for you.’ She tossed something in the air.

Tiaan caught it. It was a small piece of worked metal in a swirling pattern that was hard to look at, for it seemed to double back on itself, inside, then outside, then inside again. She had seen it somewhere else in Tirthrax. Markings had been inlaid into it, silver on black. Just to look at it was calming.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘What is it?’

‘A symbol of the Well of Echoes,’ Malien replied casually. ‘It signifies infinity, the universe and nothingness. Or to put it another way, the importance, as well as the insignificance, of humanity in the great cosmos. It’s just a token but I’ve laid a virtue on it that may help you find what you are looking for.’

Tiaan put it on the chain around her neck. She knew what she was looking for: revenge! Though even that had lost its force lately. ‘I’ll cherish it always. It will remind me of you.’

Malien smiled and raised her arm.

‘You’ve not said what you require of me,’ Tiaan said after a long interval.

‘I don’t know that I’m wise enough to require anything.’

‘You’ve given me the greatest gift I could hope for. You must want something in return.’

‘The thapter may turn out to be a poisoned fruit, Tiaan. It may ruin your life, or destroy it. I also give it to you because, through accident or design, the amplimet has been imprinted by you. If you cannot use it to the betterment of humanity, who can?’

‘I might be taken by the enemy straight away.’

‘All might be lost in a dozen ways. Even the greatest seer sees only fragments of the future and can never know if what they predict is for good or ill. That’s why I place no condition on you, save to do what you think is right, calmly and clear-headedly, and never out of calamitous passions.’

Was that a warning? Surely it was. ‘I’m afraid.’

‘To live is to be afraid. You’d better go, Tiaan. It’s getting harder to hold the Well.’

Tiaan clung to the controller knob. Already the gift had become a burden. It was not hers at all, but then, how could it be?

‘I feel so alone, and I’ve not a friend in the world.’

‘Apart from me,’ said Malien, with the most fleeting of smiles. ‘And if you should ever need me, come back. Or send word.’

‘I will,’ said Tiaan.

She drew power and the mechanism whined into life, lifting the thapter above the floor. She turned it to face the opening.

‘One last thing,’ Malien called.

‘Yes?’

‘Take care. Whatever you do to Vithis, or Minis, will come back on you tenfold.’

Tiaan went rigid. Malien had known her purpose all along, and still had given her this marvellous thapter. Almost afraid to look, Tiaan sketched her a stiff salute and pushed the knob. The thapter shot forward, much faster than she had expected, and she was hard put to control it as she careered toward the ragged opening in the side of the mountain. She lifted the machine over the piles of rubble, down again to avoid pendant slabs of roof rock, and out into the sunshine. A soaring eagle had to brake in mid-air and was sent tumbling by the shockwave of her passing. Above the glacier, the thapter turned east and disappeared into the mist.