For a second, the three of them hesitated at the threshold.

Then they went through.

The Bone Temple at Earth’s End. Gazall’s bridge over Teardrop Valley. The five remaining towers of Akhom-Behtz. The statues of Crae and Fornarr at Dragon Spine Mountain. All were chilling partly because they were colossal, and size is naturally intimidating.

However, it was mainly their great age that was disturbing. It had something to do with the eons they’d weathered, and the countless mortals they’d outlasted. As though, like vampires, they drew into themselves the life essences of short-lived things to prolong their own monolithic existence. It was as if they imbibed the detritus of the ages; every windblown particle of human skin, every stray hair, every speck of sweat or drop of shed blood, absorbed.

Kutch, Serrah and Caldason felt that dread. They knew the terror of vast antiquity, and of gigantism, a feeling compounded by the fact that what they were looking at was imbued with such a sense of otherness.

The maze had led them to a massive cavern. It was brightly lit by sorcery, though no glamoured orbs were apparent; the light seemed to bleed from the yellowish rock itself. The air was perfumed by a mingling of aromas, sulphur being the strongest by far.

Big as the cavern was, a single artefact utterly dominated the space. It was the size of a mountain peak, and seemed to be fashioned from the living rock, along with a commingling of other materials that might have included steel, quartz, zinc, ceramics, and even gold. The great broad face of the edifice was adorned with unknown symbols in vivid colours that kept their brilliance despite the passing of countless ages.

Much more striking was a dowel, wide as a mature tree, long as a street, suspended from the upper reaches. It was similar to a pendulum, but appeared to be stationary. Closer scrutiny showed that it must have moved, imperceptibly slowly, from a point on the far left towards a corresponding point on the far right. A green symbol marked its start and a red symbol its terminus, which the pendulum’s tip had almost reached. The whole contrivance was attended by a deep, rhythmic throb that massaged the soles of their feet.

‘I don’t know what I thought the Clepsydra would be,’ Serrah whispered, ‘but I never imagined it like this.’

Seen head on, the relic looked as though it sat on an islet. It gave that impression because a small river ran the length of its base, flowing between openings on opposite sides of the cavern. But it was no ordinary river. The liquid was quicksilver.

It didn’t run straight from one aperture to the other. On the way, the pewter stream fed itself to the Clepsydra, as water pours through a mill. Sluggish, glutinous, it made a pulpy sound as it slipped into artfully carved ducts.

‘No wonder it’s stood for so long,’ Kutch said, awestruck. ‘It draws directly from magic’s chariot. The amount of power involved-I wouldn’t go too near, Reeth. This level of energy’s really dangerous.’

Caldason didn’t reply. He looked distant.

‘Reeth?’

Serrah went to the Qalochian and grasped his arm. ‘Reeth!’

He came back into focus. ‘What?’

‘You were away there.’

He shook his head to clear it. ‘It’s hot down here, and the magic…’

‘It’s pretty overwhelming,’ Kutch agreed.

‘All I can feel is the heat,’ Serrah said. ‘Here.’ She handed Caldason her water pouch.

He took a long drink and seemed better for it. Then he turned to Kutch. ‘So what do you reckon? What is this thing?’

‘I think the scholars were right; it’s a timepiece.’

‘Measuring what?’ Serrah asked. ‘Hours? Days?’

‘You have to think on a much larger scale than that.’ He was gazing up at the thing. ‘Look at the symbols.’

‘You understand them?’

‘Mostly, no. But one or two are in remaining Founder fragments, and we think we know what they mean.’ He pointed. ‘See that one? At the beginning of the pendulum’s track?’

‘The one that looks like a figure eight with a billhook through it?’

‘Yes, the green one. It means…well, it means a lot of things, but chiefly something like birth or beginning. One interpretation is “seed”; another’s “Spring”, or “a well”.’

‘Not too difficult to interpret, then,’ she said.

‘No. It’s fairly obviously a starting point. All those other symbols the pendulum’s passed on its journey presumably mark important stages or events.’

‘Events in what? Somebody’s life?’

Caldason had been taking this in silently. Now he spoke. ‘All of our lives.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Kutch is beginning to understand. Aren’t you, Kutch?’

The apprentice nodded. He was pale, despite the heat.

‘Don’t keep me in suspense,’ Serrah complained. ‘What is it?’

‘That symbol right at the top, in black and orange,’ Kutch explained hesitantly, indicating an image the size of a wagon wheel. ‘It’s the Founders’ glyph for all. Everything.’

‘And by everything…’

‘Scholars believe it meant just that; the whole thing. The world.’

‘I still don’t-’

‘Look where the pendulum is now,’ Caldason said. ‘You see? Where the tip of the arrow’s pointing? I’d put money on what that symbol means.’

‘It’s end,’ Kutch confirmed. ‘Not death exactly, because the Founders didn’t seem to have a symbol for that. But “cease”, “expend” and “ultimate” all fit. It’s a symbol we always see in relation to the Founder concept of the Last Days.’

‘Oh, great,’ Serrah exclaimed. ‘We come looking for help and find the world’s about to end. Assuming the Founders knew what they were talking about.’

‘They were an extremely perceptive race,’ Kutch replied.

‘It doesn’t follow that they were right about everything. I mean, if they were so clever, how come they aren’t still around?’

‘I suppose even the Founders weren’t infallible. But they had the most advanced civilisation the world’s ever seen. They could have been right about this.’

She sniffed dubiously and studied the pendulum. ‘What do you think that means in terms of time? How long do we have left?’

‘This thing was designed to measure eons. So who can say? Centuries? Weeks?’

‘More likely weeks than centuries,’ Caldason said.

‘How do you figure that out?’ Serrah asked.

‘Because we’ve arrived here at just this time.’

‘That sounds very mystical for you, Reeth.’

‘It…feels right.’

Kutch nodded in agreement.

‘You’re saying we were somehow meant to be here at this time?’ she pressed.

‘I don’t know what I’m saying, only that being here now seems a kind of…fit.’

‘Getting here as the world’s due to end is good timing?’

‘As you said; maybe they were wrong about that.’

‘But you think something’s going to happen?’

‘I’m hoping we’ll find the Source.’

‘We’re all hoping that. It’s why we came, remember?’ She took in the vastness of the cavern. ‘So where is it?’ There was a trace of mild derision in her voice.

He shrugged. ‘Perhaps Kutch’s spotting talent…’

‘I don’t think I can,’ the boy confessed.

‘I thought you were trained to filter things out,’ Serrah said.

‘I was. But this place is so saturated, it’s impossible.’

‘We don’t have a plan then.’

‘Yes we do,’ Caldason corrected. ‘The oldest one in the book. We search.’

‘Where?’

‘This cavern might not be all there is down here.’ He nodded towards the rock wall furthest from the Clepsydra, where shadows were deepest.

‘Fine by me. This thing gives me the creeps; I’ll be glad to get away from it.’ She turned her back on the dreadful, pulsating mechanism.

They set out. As they neared the wall, they activated their glamoured orbs. The outlines of several tunnels could be seen, darker than the surrounding gloom.

‘Which one?’ Kutch asked.