‘They know nothing,’ he told them. The interior, the Dolmans, are just sources of terror for them. They have turned their backs upon them.’

‘What do we do then?’ Kyle asked, unable to keep an edge of irritation from his voice.

His back to them, Traveller said, ‘We will follow Ereko.’

Stalker, at Kyle's side, nodded silent assent. He signed to the brothers, who checked their blades then jogged off to the right and left. ‘I'll bring up the rear.’

Kyle was surprised. ‘Shouldn't you-’

‘Walk with me, Kyle,’ Traveller invited.

Smiling his reassurance to Kyle, Ereko set off ahead. Traveller handed Kyle a strip of smoked fish taken from the bundles supplied by Jhest. He took a bite and handed it back as they walked.

The pillars were built of stones carved to sit one atop the other, diminishing smoothly on six facets to a blunt tip just taller than Ereko himself. They stood some five paces apart in immensely long rows running east-west and north-south. Looking carefully Kyle could discern a curve to the east-west rows, as if they described a series of nested arcs, or vast circles. ‘What is this?’ he asked of Traveller.

Ereko answered, ‘A cemetery, mainly. However, it served many other functions for those who built it. Ritual centre, timepiece, observatory, calendar, temple and prison.’

‘Did your people build it?’

‘Goddess, no, Kyle. We were not builders. No, this was raised ages ago by a people long gone. Humans, like yourself, of a close lineage.’

‘You have been here before?’

The Thel Akai glanced back, a smile of amusement at his lips. ‘No.’

‘Then where are you leading us?’

A shrug of the massive shoulders. ‘To the centre. I find that the centre is often a good place to start.’

‘Do not worry,’ Traveller said, also smiling at Kyle's discomfort. ‘Ereko knows what he is doing. Can you say the same?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that I gather you intend to try to rescue or release this Prince K'azz D'Avore, commander of the Crimson Guard. Do you think that wise?’

‘Wise?’

The man's dark-blue eyes watched him sideways, gauging. His beard of silver and black bristles gave him a grave, priestly look. ‘Yes.’

‘The Guard's become a band of murderers. Skinner has-’

‘Skinner? Traveller interrupted, then mastered himself with an effort.

‘Yes… He killed one of their own right before my eyes. Only K'azz can restore the Guard to what it should be.’

Traveller's gaze was averted, but in it, and in his tight down-turned mouth, Kyle read sadness coupled with a strange amusement, as if at some grim joke known only to himself. ‘Indeed. To what it should be. And what might that be, I wonder?’

‘I – I don't know, but it would have to be an improvement. Only the Duke can bring Skinner to heel.’

‘Can he? I wonder…’

Ahead, Ereko stopped, raising a hand. Coming abreast of him Kyle saw that they had reached the innermost ring of pillars. Before them lay a flat circular plaza the size of a city centre floored entirely by pale, off-white, wind-scoured gravel. The gathering shadows of the afternoon revealed that the pavement was not smooth, but that the stones were intricately set in lines. Some lines bisected the expanse, some curved, some were straight, each was marked out only in shadow by the arrangement of the stones. Indeed, from where Kyle stood, it appeared as if a forest of lines, some gently curving arcs or tight curls, others straight as sword blades, crawled about the gravelled floor of the plaza like, well, an infinity of paths. But all were marked only in shadow. The stones were all identical, all the same shade of creamy off-white. One could not tell which stone was part of which line. And even as they all stood staring in fascination, Coots and Badlands coming to stand with them, the sun moved a fraction and all the lines writhed with it like shadows jumping to new tracery.

‘Incredible,’ Ereko breathed. ‘Would that I had known its makers. A construct worthy of the great artificer Icarium.’

‘Do we cross?’ Stalker asked.

‘Our goal is across the way.’

‘We go around,’ Traveller said.

Kyle felt unaccountable relief at that pronouncement. But he also felt a deeper unease, for here was a man who surely must have no need to fear anything, yet even he was wary of this place. They slowly traced their way around half the circumference. All the while, Kyle watched the plaza: no bird landed, no leaf blew, no twig or dry weed tumbled across the expanse. All was still. It was as if the space were somehow sealed off from the normal littered, overgrown expanse of sand surrounding it.

Eventually, Ereko stopped at a pillar that, as far as Kyle could see, was no different from any other. He knelt to study its base for a time. ‘This is where we must dig, I believe.’

‘Dig?’ Kyle asked in disbelief.

‘Oh, yes.’

‘But, is he… dead…?’

The giant frowned. ‘From what you have told me of these Avowed, I presume not.’

‘Then…’ Words failed Kyle. Father Wind! To be buried alive for so long, unable to die. His mind must be gone…

The brothers set to without question. They fell to their knees, began dragging armfuls of sand aside. Seeing Kyle watch, Coots commented aside, ‘The sooner we're outta here the better…’ Kyle got to his knees to help. An arm's length down they met harder ground, firm tough dirt, a deeper hue of yellow, damp and cold. Out came boot-knives and short blunt eating blades. The fighting blades stayed sheathed. It came to look to Kyle as if the Thel Akai must have been right in selecting this one particular pillar out of the countless thousands, for the ground was broken, the lower matrix mixed with the sands from above. Someone had dug here before them.

They reached a flat stone barrier, roughly hewn. Feeling about the edges Badlands revealed a paving stone or lid, roughly square, about an arm's length in each direction. He pushed his fingers under one edge and, straining, lifted. The stone grated, rose and fell leaning. Badlands edged aside to reveal a small dark cavity, like a large urn. Within, arms wrapped tightly around knees tucked to its chest, was a desiccated corpse.

Badlands gestured. ‘This the guy?’

‘How should I know? I've never seen him!’

‘He don't look so good,’ Coots said, brushing sand from his beard.

‘Oh, you think so? Ereko?’ But the Thel Akai had turned away and was scanning the grounds. ‘Ereko?’

The giant glanced down, his amber eyes churning with heavy sadness. ‘I'm sorry, Kyle. I'd hoped you'd be successful. It would make… well, I'm sorry.’

Puzzled, Kyle peered about the surrounding dunes, his eyes narrowing. ‘What's going on?’

Traveller had stepped down and crouched over the corpse. He lifted its skull to examine its ravaged face, wrenched its right hand free to examine it, then straightened.

‘Well?’ Kyle asked.

Traveller too was looking aside. ‘It might be him,’ he said, distractedly. ‘Hard to say.’

‘What's going on, Lady take it!’

Stalker's head snapped up and he leapt aside, facing east, a hand at his sword. The brothers crouched behind the cover of the piled sand. Traveller straight-armed Kyle to fall backwards into the pit. ‘Hey!’

Peering up over the lip, Kyle saw that a wind had arisen, a twisting dust-devil that kicked up clouds of sand. Within, darkness gathered, a ragged gap that Kyle recognized as the opening of a Warren. Greyness moiled behind the fissure. Then, with a clap, it was gone and the sands settled. An armoured man now occupied the space between two pillars. He was tall, gaunt, looking exceptionally old. His face was dark and lined, ravaged by age, and his long grey hair hung lank. His mail shirt hung to his ankles, a plain bastard sword was at his side. He approached, scanning everyone briefly. The open scorn of his gaze set Kyle's teeth on edge. The eyes fixed upon Ereko and a hungry smile twisted the old man's mouth. He called something in a language unknown to Kyle.