Aurum took a few strides towards him, bent down, grabbed the man's hair, yanked back his head. In the glare of the Master's face, Carnelian saw the amber eyes strain round with terror. There was a glint at the black man's throat, a slicking sound. He gurgled, then grimaced. Aurum kicked his body away with a snort, wiping his hand down his robe. The black man twitched, face down on the floor, a black halo spreading round his head, his fist still gripping the knife.

Vennel was frozen. 'It tried to kill me.'

Jaspar circled the corpse as if it were a rabid animal. After surveying it he moved in, placed a ranga shoe on the wrist, crunched it down against the floor. Using a fold of his robe, he stooped down and worked the knife out of the dead man's grip. He held it up. 'A kitchen knife?' He sounded amazed. He flung it away with a clatter that made Carnelian jump.

That it should dare threaten one of the Chosen,' said Vennel. 'It is quite, quite, quite unbelievable.' 'It was attacking you?' Jaspar demanded. 'It sought my life.'

'It was me he was trying to kill,' said Carnelian quietly. Two masks and the old man's face snapped towards him.

'Explain yourself,' said Aurum. Carnelian looked down at the man lying in the blood. 'He saw my face.' 'What do you mean?'

That man lying there, he saw my face. The night we were attacked, he saw my face.'

'You little fool,' said Vennel, lunging towards Carnelian.

Aurum overtook him. He caught Carnelian by the shoulders and shook him till his mask was askew. 'Why did you say nothing at the time?'

Carnelian tore free of Aurum's hands and stared back into his cold eyes. He tried to slide the mask back into place. 'I did not want him to die. Not when his sin had come from the saving of our lives.'

Jaspar coughed a nervous laugh. Carnelian glared at him. He was close to blurting out that not only he but also Jaspar had been guilty of the same sin. The same sin, except that at least Carnelian had demanded nothing for his silence.

Suddenly, he was shoved round so that he was looking at the man bleeding over the floor. He looked away.

'Look at it,' Aurum said. 'Look at it, I say.'

Carnelian obeyed. The gash was a slack-lipped smile opening a mouth in the corpse's throat.

That thing could have spilled your precious blood.' Aurum's fingers dug into his arm. The Law of

Concealment must be obeyed. It is not some arbitrary nonsense. It is meant to stop that!' His finger jabbed at the corpse.

'Look,' shrilled Vennel, 'look.' He pointed at Carnelian's feet. 'He does not even wear the ranga.'

Aurum released him, turned away.

'One would have thought the boy would have learned something from the debacle on the baran,' said Vennel.

Hatred of the Masters overpowered Carnelian. He remembered Crail. He remembered that they had opened the chasm between him and his own father, whom even now they were expecting to die. He remembered Jaspar using Tain's eyes to bait his trap. He opened his mouth to spit his bitterness at them but at that moment his father's ravings came from behind the door, and he felt his anger seep away.

'Now we see the consequences of all this secrecy,' said Vennel. 'If we had travelled with our guardsmen this would never have happened.'

Aurum turned an icy face to Carnelian. 'Go and sleep.'

Carnelian went to his father, remembering what he had said. Before he closed the door, he heard Aurum say, 'We had better hide the carcass… Yes, with our own hands. Everything must be done to avoid this contagion of rebellion spreading to the others. The creatures will all have to be destroyed.'

Carnelian had his back against the bed. He so wanted to sleep but he had to guard the embers of his father's life. In his grip, his father's hand felt like ice. All night Carnelian had held on to him to stop him being tugged away. His muscles ached from the effort. Each time death pulled, his father would first heat like a kettle, raving ever more loudly, then cool until the sweat was beading on his skin. Silence would then come so suddenly that each time Carnelian thought him gone. A whisper of breath, a tiny trembling in a vein would turn his grief to anger. He would stare at the fevered face, grinding his teeth, wanting to rail at his father, to blame him, to tell him that it was not fair to leave him alone to shoulder all the burden. When he had managed to pack the anger back in somewhere he dried his father's face and rewrapped his body in the covers he had thrown off.

Drowsing over him Carnelian would sometimes become aware that his hand was stroking his father's head or his lips were mumbling one of Ebeny's healing songs. Once he wondered if it was perhaps their charm that stoked the fire inside his father's shell until it glowed red again and the babbling came hissing out. He had stood watch over him as long as he could, then had slumped to the floor, his head a hollowed stone in his hands.

Now his father was sleeping quietly and it seemed that the fever had passed into Carnelian. Tremors moved across his skin as if something were burrowing under it. He was desperate to sleep, to escape the numbness, to dull the pain.

Sounds were coming through the wall. One of the Masters was stirring. He swivelled his head round. A window slit showed a shade paler than night. The morning. A sigh deflated his body. Osrakum. Today, Osrakum. He opened his mind to receive the vision. He waited, then closed it when nothing came in. Was this to be the day his father died?

Something heavy struck the door. Groaning, Carnelian stood up, to put his body up as a shield between the door and his father's face. He fumbled his mask up to hide his own. The door opened to frame a darkness in which an oval floated like a summer moon. Aurum came in stooping, trapping the whole room in the mirror of his mask. It fell away to reveal his Master's face creased with dismay. That look sharpened Carnelian's own fears.

Take this,' Aurum said and pushed his mask onto Carnelian so that he had to let go of his father's hand. The old Master leaned over Suth and bent to touch the dangling veined marble of his hand.

'His blood still burns.' Aurum's face smoothed as he pulled his hand back over his grey stubbled head. 'Perhaps there is still time.'

'Perhaps…?' Carnelian's stomach curdled. 'Why should there not be enough time? Surely, we are only a few stages away from the Wise?'

Aurum's eyes were dulled, looking at some inner landscape. There is much that can happen along those few stages.'

'You mean Ykoriana?'

Aurum's eyes ignited. 'Bite your tongue. Just make sure you do what you can to keep your father alive. The rest is not your concern.'

The cistern wobbled sinuous patterns across the rafter-latticed ceiling. The Masters held their aquar themselves. Aurum had dismissed the grooms so that they would not witness a Master's weakness. Jaspar clucked his impatience to be gone. An aquar was made to sink. With Aurum's help, Carnelian wrestled his father's body into the saddle-chair. They ignored Vermel's question about his health. Carnelian took the reins and held them as he and the others mounted. He tied them to his chair.

Outside, it was cold. Lazy sounds came up from the encampment. Carnelian felt the unease around him. Vennel's mask could not decide whether it wanted to look at his father or at the Marula. Jaspar's maintained a constant oblique angle to the Marula. The barbarians were clumped a little way off, already mounted. Their heads hung as if they slept in their chairs. They had turned their backs on the road ahead as if by not seeing it they could make it go away. Behind them, beneath an indigo sky, Osrakum's wall was a gloomy island rising from the sea of mist that submerged the city.