Carnelian threw a punch at his brother, thinking that he was being teased.

Tain ducked away, chuckling. 'What now?'

'Now I get to sit and wait,' said Carnelian, affecting cheerfulness.

'You mean, we get to sit and wait.' Tain did not even try to hide his gloom. He had hoped to run off and find out what was happening, but he would not desert Carnelian. He brightened. 'We'll be able to see the ship coming in from here.'

Carnelian leapt up. 'You're right.'

They ran over to the shutters. Tain caught Carnelian's hand as it reached up to the catch. ‘I’d better do this, Carnie. You might dirty your robes.'

Carnelian scowled but gave in. As the parchment window flew back, snow gusted in. Everything in the room flapped. They both peered out into the twilight. The blizzard had thinned. 'Can you see anything?'

Tain shook his head, then reached back to tug on his brother's robe. 'Look!' he cried, pointing with the other hand.

Carnelian leaned over him and saw the huge shape creeping towards the quay. She rocked slow and heavy. Lights flickered here and there across her deck. Her sails had been furled, leaving only the trunks of the masts.

'She's going to smash herself to pieces,' cried Tain. And sure enough there was a terrible grinding that they could hear even over the wind. The ship grated along the quay but she did not founder. Carnelian watched, chewing his hand. He was not sure whether he wanted her safe. Flames flared as torches moved across the deck to collect on the ship's landward side. Their pulsing line defined the curve of her hull. Suddenly, the torches were sparking from the ship to the quay. Most snuffed out as they hit but others splashed spluttering light. Soon after, figures began flinging themselves over the side, trailing ropes. Some landed on the stone, others fell short and dropped into the sea. Carnelian watched with horror as the ship lunged away. Ropes tautened. Some of the men were pulled off the quay to disappear into the narrow channel of sea lying between the hull and the wall. When the ship came crushing back more men jumped off regardless. Those still on the quay were leaning back on their heels, straining against the ropes, struggling to tame her.

Carnelian left Tain at the window and rushed to look into the corridor. The guardsmen were still there. 'No message come for me, no news?'

'None, Carnie.' They were shaking their heads, looking worried.

Carnelian tried to send one off to get news but he was refused with, 'The Master must be obeyed.' He knew that whenever one of his people said that it would take all his power of command to press further. He let it go. Why make trouble for the man?

He ran back to join Tain. Dozens of lines were stitching the ship to the quay. She was being pulled in. More lines were thrown over and secured. Men slid down them like oil drops on a string. There was a constant milling on the deck. Then it stopped. Suddenly. Two or three huge figures had appeared and were moving to the bow. Everything else was still, save for the ship's rise and fall. Even the wind had dropped.

'Masters,' said Tain, flickering uneasy eyes at Carnelian.

They can't be,' Carnelian said, though he had been thinking the same.

'But look, Carnie, all those around them,' Tain pointed, 'they're making the prostration. And look at them, look how huge they are. Only Masters are so big.'

Even in the twilight, at that distance, the shapes had some quality of grace that suggested they were indeed of the Masters.

'What would Masters be doing coming here?' Carnelian muttered, but his words were snatched away by the wind.

Carnelian and Tain had watched the tall figures leave the ship and move along the quay, towering amidst the smaller men who carried torches. The procession had climbed the road round to the Holdgate and out of sight. Then, nothing. The brothers were left to sit waiting by the fire, each wrapped in his own thoughts.

The sound of the door opening made them both jump up. Two guardsmen appeared carrying a white chest between them. Carnelian pointed to where they could put it down.

Another man had come in behind them. His eyes were stitched closed. The Master bade me say to the Lord his son that he should be attired as if he were in Osrakum.' The blindman spoke in accented Quya. Tain looked round. The words were just sounds to him. Only a few people of the household understood the mysterious tongue of the Masters.

'He said that… you're certain he said that?' Carnelian asked, shifting the conversation into Vulgate. 'I'm sure, Master.'

Carnelian mused, now certain beyond any doubt that the visitors were Masters. He went over to the chest. With customary unease he noted how the eyeless man followed his movement. The creature came towards him, held out his hand and opened it to reveal two packets. These the Master bade me put into his son's own hand. I'm to say that, once he's properly dressed, his son should attend the Master in his hall.'

Carnelian took the windings of soft leather. He unwound one. Inside was a long narrow piece of exquisitely worked jade pierced by three finger holes.

He gaped at it. 'A Great-Ring.'

He turned the ring till its carving held the light. It had been his mother's. He unwound the other package. It contained a second ring. Worn together, they were a sign of his blood-rank. His mother's blood had been so pure, she had been entitled to wear a third. He slipped the rings on. His hand had not grown into them yet. He hooked his fingers to make sure that the rings would not fall off and lifted them. They gashed his hand.

Tain was kneeling before the chest, sighing his hands over the smooth ivory. It was worked all over with a writhing of chameleons whose eyes were the rivets of copper that held the chest together.

For a moment they looked at each other, brimming over with excitement.

'Come on, Tain, we must hurry,' said Carnelian.

They pushed back the lid, then gasped. Inside the chest wondrous garments were dulled like butterflies in chrysalises of waxed parchment. As they drew them out the room filled with the scent of lilies. They marvelled at them. Tain stripped Carnelian and then one by one he put them on him. The first few were tissues so fine they floated on the air. The ones further down in the chest were heavier and interwoven with precious stones. The garments fitted over each other like the pieces of a puzzle. The final robe was of grey samite: stiff silk brocaded with coral pins. It hung as heavily as chains and was a little too long.

At the bottom of the chest Tain found a box holding a circlet of black-grained silver wreathed with turquoises and jades. Carnelian had to put this on his head himself because Tain could not reach.

Tain stepped back, wide-eyed. 'You're transformed into a Master, Carnie.'

'I've always been a Master, Tain,' snapped Carnelian. He felt vaguely silly, weighed down, overdressed. 'I suppose I should go.'

'But you must see for yourself,' his brother cried. He ran over to the copper mirror. As he struggled to set it up against the wall, it shot glimmers through the rafters.

Carnelian allowed his head to droop under the weight of the circlet. He scowled, but when he lifted his head again he drew back. 'By the Two…' A strange being was lurking in the copper. Carnelian had to move from side to side to convince himself it was his own watery reflection.

He thought of the tall men drifting along the quay. Masters. The Chosen, he corrected himself, using the Quya name they called themselves. His stomach churned. In all the world there were only three kinds of men: the Chosen, the half-caste marumaga and the rest, the barbarians. He realized Tain was looking at him, and could see that his own unease was spreading to that marumaga face. Carnelian remembered who he was and the duty he had to the boy. He dragged up some confidence and put it in his voice. 'It's time for me to go, Tain. Please fetch my mask,'