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She tried to concentrate. She must.

‘I’m here, Minis.’

That’s better. Show me where you are.

Tiaan concentrated on a mental image of her cave, and then of the mountain slope outside. She knew it was fuzzy but could do no better.

I don’t like it, came another voice, a woman’s.

You’re wasting your time, said a third, a flat, despairing male voice. She’s going to die and so are we. It is written.

Hush! whispered Minis. Tirior, Luxor, not so loud. I read our time lines, so there must be a way. Tiaan, show us the devices you used to contact me.

She mentally imaged the helm and globe.

Incredible, said the woman. Where has she come by such artefacts?

I don’t know, Tirior. There was a mutter of talk in the background. Tiaan did not catch any of it.

Quickly, child! said the woman, Tirior. Where did you find these devices?

‘I’m not a child!’’ Tiaan tried to sound mature, dignified. ‘I made them.’

You made them? came the third voice, Luxor. How? Who are you?

She said nothing. Tiaan was not going to be treated like a juvenile.

You’re intimidating her, Luxor. It was Minis’s voice. Please, let me talk to her. Tiaan, how came you to make such astonishing devices?

The praise set her heart soaring. ‘I am an artisan at the clanker manufactory in the mountains above Tiksi. Minis …?’

What is a clanker? asked Tirior.

She described their construction, operation and purpose. ‘I make the controllers that draw power from the field, to make them go.’

What are these clankers for?

‘We are at war with the lyrinx.’

Lyrinx? cried Luxor. How did this come about?

‘When the Forbidding was broken, and Maigraith crossed the Way between the Worlds …’ She hesitated, afraid they would not know what she was talking about.

That is also part of our Histories. Go on.

‘That was two hundred and six years ago …’

Three hundred and ninety of ours, said Tirior, but we have not forgotten.

‘The lyrinx came to Santhenar at that time, as did other fierce creatures that lived in the void between the worlds.’

Some also came to Aachan,’ said Tirior. Her voice sounded kindly. They did not last long. Tell us about yourself, Tiaan.

‘I am skilled in the working of fine metals, in forming ceramics and shaping and polishing crystals. That is how I make clanker controllers.’

What are controllers? said Minis.

‘Mind-linked mechanical systems which enable an ordinary person to power and control a clanker.’ She sent an image of an eight-limbed clanker.

Amazing! The flat voice of Luxor showed a flicker of interest.

His face appeared, so washed out that it was little more than outline. Ingenious. How do you make it go?

She explained how certain crystals could be tuned to tap into natural fields that existed around nodes, to draw a trickle of that power into the controller, and thence into the clanker itself.

You build such controllers? Where did the pattern come from?

Tiaan was becoming impatient. What did it matter how she made controllers? But, after all, she was not going anywhere. ‘It’s an old pattern I was taught in my prenticeship. I have made a number of improvements to it.’

Show us this pattern, said Luxor eagerly.

‘You are not our kind. That would be treason.’

Then we cannot help you, he snapped.

Please, Luxor, said Minis. Tiaan, I don’t understand. You say you built these devices. How did you know how?

‘I needed something to amplify the signals from a faulty controller, so I simply made this globe and helm.’

That must have taken a long time. Months, surely?

‘It took me a few days,’ said Tiaan. ‘That’s what I do.’

Are there other artisans with your talent? She sensed awe.

‘There are many artisans. I don’t know how many have my talent. I have not travelled to other manufactories.’ Then, with a trace of pride, ‘But ours is said to be the best.’

What powers this device, Tiaan? Is there a crystal at the heart of it too?

Tiaan remembered that she had not shown Minis the hedron. ‘A special hedron. I did not even have to shape it.’ She held up the globe, visualising the perfect bipyramid of rutilated quartz at the heart of it, the twin balls of radiating needle crystals inside, the spark drifting across that cavity, the faint glow.

There was a long silence. A stunned silence, she realised.

What is it? said Minis. What’s the matter?

The other two spoke among themselves. Tell me! cried Minis.

It’s an amplimet! said Tirior in an awed whisper that clearly was not meant to carry to Tiaan. There has not been one found in four thousand years. Just look at it!

Does she even know what she has? Luxor’s voice glowed with excitement. Could she be a budding geomancer?

Hush! Minis was back. Tiaan

‘Minis!’ Tiaan interrupted. ‘Why were you calling for help?’

Aachan is dying! he said harshly. Our beautiful world is finished.

‘You are from Aachan?’ she said incredulously. Tiaan knew of Aachan, the second of the Three Worlds. It was at the very core of the Histories and every child of Santhenar learned about it. It had been the world of the Aachim, until the Charon fled out of the void, took Aachan and enslaved its people. But at the time the Forbidding was broken, the Charon had gone to extinction and the Aachim became masters of their world again.

To think she was actually speaking to someone across the void – it seemed impossible. Subconsciously she must have known that Minis was from another world, but had not taken it in. Her dreams evaporated like a flake of snow in a frying pan. She could not help him. They could never meet. ‘What is happening to Aachan?’ she asked miserably.

The whole world is erupting. The very crust has cracked open in rifts five hundreds of leagues long. Aachan will survive it, but we won’t! Our world may not be habitable for ten thousand years. Or ten million.

‘How has this come about?’

An after-effect of the Forbidding being broken, we think. It began at that time.

‘How long do you have?’

We think a few months. At the very outside, a year. Lava advances on us from all directions. The seas grow too hot to sustain life. Soon we will have no place to stand.

Tiaan went limp. Something caught in her throat, as if she had taken in a whiff of burning air. Minis was going to die.

Tiaan?

Tears flooded down her cheeks, forming icicles.

‘Yes?’ She choked. ‘You’re going to die and so am I. We’re all doomed.’ She was shaking. Tiaan could not help herself. Despair was a black Hürn bear, eating her from the belly out.

There may be a way! Minis’s voice was a seductive whisper inside her head.

‘How?’

We may be able to save you, through your amplimet. In return, you can do something for us.