But now Maddy learned of a world beyond the map’s edge, a world of many parts and contradictions, a world in which Nat Parson or Adam Scattergood, for instance, might be driven to madness by as small a thing as a glimpse of ocean or an unfamiliar star.

In such a world, Maddy understood, one man’s religion might be another’s heresy, magic and science might overlap, houses might be built on rivers or underground or high in the air; even the Laws of the Order at World’s End, which she had always assumed were universal, might warp and bend to suit the customs of this new, expanded world.

Of course only a child or an idiot believed that World’s End actually was the end of the world. There were other lands, everyone knew that. Once there had even been trade with these lands-trade, and sometimes even war. But it was widely held that these Outlands had suffered so badly from Tribulation that their folk had long since fallen into savagery, and no one-no one civilized-went there anymore.

But, of course, One-Eye had. Beyond the One Sea, or so he said, there were men and women as brown as peat, with hair curled tight as bramble-crisp, and these people had never known Tribulation or read the Good Book, but instead worshiped gods of their own-wild brown gods with animal heads-and performed their own kind of magic, and all this was to them every bit as respectable and as everyday as Nat Parson’s Sunday sermons on the far side of the Middle World.

“Nat Parson says magic’s the devil’s work,” said Maddy.

“But I daresay he’d turn a blind eye if it suited him?”

Maddy nodded, hardly daring to smile.

“Understand, Maddy, that Good and Evil are not as firmly rooted as your churchman would have you believe. The Good Book preaches Order above all things; therefore Order is good. Glam works from Chaos; therefore magic is the devil’s work. But a tool is only as good or bad as the one working it. And what is good today may be evil again tomorrow.”

Maddy frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Listen,” said the Outlander. “Since the world began-and it has begun many times, and many times ended, and been remade-the laws of Order and Chaos have opposed each other, advancing and retreating in turn across the Nine Worlds, to contain or disrupt according to their nature. Good and Evil have nothing to do with it. Everything lives-and dies-according to the laws of Order and Chaos, the twin forces that even gods cannot hope to withstand.”

He looked at Maddy, who was still frowning. She was very young for this lesson, he thought, and yet it was essential that she should learn it now. Even next year might be too late-the Order was already spreading its wings, sending more and more Examiners out of World’s End…

He swallowed his impatience and started again. “Here’s a tale of the Æsir that will show you my drift. Their general was called Odin Allfather. You may have heard his name, I daresay.”

She nodded. “He of the spear and the eight-legged horse.”

“Aye. Well, he was among those who remade the world in the early days, at the dawn of the Elder Age. And he brought together all his warriors-Thor and Týr and the rest-to build a great stronghold to push back the Chaos that would have overwhelmed the new world before it was even completed. Its name was Asgard, the Sky Citadel, and it became the First World of those Elder Days.”

Maddy nodded. She knew the tale, though the Good Book claimed it was the Nameless that had built the Sky Citadel and that the Seer-folk had won it by trickery.

One-Eye went on. “But the enemy was strong, and many had skills that the Æsir did not possess. And so Odin took a risk. He sought out a son of Chaos and befriended him for the sake of his skills, and took him into Asgard as his brother. You’ll know of him, I guess. They called him the Trickster.”

Again Maddy nodded.

“Loki was his name, wildfire his nature. There are many tales about him. Some show him in an evil light. Some said that Odin was wrong to take him in. But-for a time, at least-Loki served the Æsir well. He was crooked, but he was useful; charm comes easily to the children of Chaos, and it was his charm and his cunning that kept him close at Odin’s side. And though in the end his nature grew too strong and he had to be subdued, it was partly because of Loki that the Æsir survived for as long as they did. Perhaps it was their fault for not keeping a closer watch on him. In any case, fire burns; that’s its nature, and you can’t expect to change that. You can use it to cook your meat or to burn down your neighbor’s house. And is the fire you use for cooking any different from the one you use for burning? And does that mean you should eat your supper raw?”

Maddy shook her head, still puzzled. “So what you’re saying is…I shouldn’t play with fire,” she said at last.

“Of course you should,” said One-Eye gently. “But don’t be surprised if the fire plays back.”

At last came the day of One-Eye’s departure. He spent most of it trying to convince Maddy that she could not go with him.

“You’re barely seven years old, for gods’ sakes. What would I do with you on the Roads?”

“I’d work,” said Maddy. “You know I can. I’m not afraid. I know lots of things.”

“Oh, aye? Three cantrips and a couple of runes? That’ll get you a long way in World’s-” He broke off suddenly and began to tug at one of the straps that bound his pack.

But Maddy was no simpleton. “World’s End?” she said, her eyes widening. “You’re going to World’s End?”

One-Eye said nothing.

“Oh, please let me come,” Maddy begged. “I’d help you, I’d carry your stuff, I’d not cause you any trouble-”

“No?” He laughed. “Last time I heard, kidnapping was still a crime.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. If she disappeared, there would be posses after them from Fettlefields to the Hindarfell and One-Eye put in the roundhouse or hanged…

“But you’ll forget me,” Maddy said. “I’ll never, ever see you again.”

One-Eye smiled. “I’ll be back next year.”

But Maddy would not look at him and stared at the ground and would not speak. One-Eye waited, wryly amused. Still Maddy did not look up, but there came a single small, fierce sniff from beneath the mat of hair.

“Maddy, listen,” he told her gently. “If you really want to help me, there’s a way you can. I need a pair of eyes and ears; I need that much more than I need company on the Roads.”

Maddy looked up. “Eyes and ears?”

One-Eye pointed at the Hill, where the dim outline of the Red Horse glowed like banked embers from its rounded flanks. “You go there a lot, don’t you?” he said.

She nodded.

“Do you know what it is?”

“A treasure mound?” suggested Maddy, thinking of the tales of gold under the Hill.

“Something far more important than that. It’s a crossroads into World Below, with roads leading down as far as Hel’s kingdom. Perhaps even as far as the river Dream, pouring its waters into the Strond-”

“So there’s no treasure?” said Maddy, disappointed.

“Treasure?” He laughed. “Aye, if you like. A treasure lost since the Elder Age. That’s why the goblins are here in such number. That’s why it carries such a charge. You can feel it, Maddy, can’t you?” he said. “It’s like living under a vulcano.”

“What’s a vulcano?”

“Never mind. Just watch it, Maddy. Just look out for anything strange. That Horse is only half asleep, and if it wakes up-”

“I wish I could wake it,” said Maddy. “Don’t you?”

One-Eye smiled and shook his head. It was a strange smile, at the same time cynical and rather sad. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “No,” he said. “I don’t think I do. That’s not a road I’d care to tread, not for all of Otter’s Ransom. Though there may come a time when I have no choice.”